If you'd like to apply to Snowblind and would like to test the waters first or get a sample set up for your application, this meme is for you! We've even provided some prompts for you to use if you want (but feel free to make up your own). Here's how it works.
✭ Reply to this entry with a character you're considering apping into the game. You can include the name of your character and the fandom in your subject line. ✭ Comment around to others on the meme, whether you're in the game already or not. ✭ Now you have a sample ready for your application! ✭ So go reserve and apply when reservations and applications are open. ✭ Seriously, do it.
Network Prompts
ONE: WAKEY WAKEY You're drawn out of your slumber when your tablet emits an earsplitting SCREECH. No amount of shaking it or hitting it will get it to shut up for five whole minutes, but at the very end it cuts itself off what sounds like a piercing scream. Well, that was weird. Maybe you should check in on the network - someone might have an idea of what that was. Or maybe they'll be just as lost as you are. At least you can all be confused together...
TWO: DON'T LET THE BEDBUGS BITE... It's past curfew, and you've been locked in for the night. But for some reason, you just can't manage to get to sleep. Nightmares giving you grief? General insomnia problems? Well, at least you've got the network to keep you company. Maybe you can get someone to tell you a bedtime story.
Action Prompts
THREE: INCONVENIENCE STORE Congratulations, you've managed to stumble upon the Mallard River Market! But you're not alone. Among the shelves of junk food (just as well-stocked as you would expect from any normal store) you'll find one - or more! - other people there with you. Here's hoping you're not both after the same box of Frosted Toaster Pastries, because things could get ugly fast. Don't linger too long, either; at 7PM, you'll be compelled to leave whether you want to or not and will only have about an hour to find somewhere to take shelter...
FOUR: RUN RUN RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN It's late. It's cold. There's a bunch of snow around you and you can sort of make out vague shapes in the distance that might be buildings, but in these conditions it's hard to tell. Regardless of what they are, though, you're going to want to hustle - if it hits 8PM and you're still outside, you're not going to make it through the night. Perhaps that person up ahead can help you? Or - if you're already safe and sound - maybe you should head outside to get that poor soul struggling outside in to shelter before they freeze. Good luck!
[she wasn't expecting the push, and she staggers back with a yelp. Surprise quickly turns to panic: he's scared, yeah, but he's also wasting time, and she does not want to die. Recovering quickly, she grabs him by the backpack and drags him into the open doorway, her head craned back in case he tries to hit her.]
[Armin doesn't try to hit her again. In fact, for a moment he just freezes, half in panic, half in exhaustion, which makes it all the more easy to heave him over the threshold by his pack. And as she does so, he cannot help but notice, in a small region of his brain not grippe by panic, that she is helping him, that she helped him while he was out in the wasteland and that she is helping him now when she could've so easily left him to die.
Once he is manhandled over the threshold, Armin doesn't immediately respond, giving her the chance to properly close the door and himself the chance to force down the panic and fogging exhaustion and actually think. She helped him. Twice. She also seems to have some sort of crude spear, which means that if she wanted to rob him or kill him, she could've easily done it already when he was on his knees. But she hadn't. Instead she had pulled him inside, saving him from sure death.
He chances another glance up at her face, and while it is still startling and like nothing he has ever seen or heard of, it is the face of his unlikely rescuer.]
Sorry. You-- you startled me.
[Which is the diplomatic way of saying nearly made me piss my pants.]
[her spear sits harmlessly on the floor where she dropped it when she reached for him. She doesn't move to pick it up again, though, and instead leans her weight back against the door to shut it firmly. Once she hears it latch securely behind her, she stays against it to rest a moment, and watches him carefully as she catches her breath.]
[he is small: small, young, and very scared. He's also apparently human. She knows there are humans, even in her own land, who have never met someone of her race; if he's one of them, that would explain his reaction, so she decides to cut him some slack. Her ears are pressed back flat against her head from nerves, but she holds up her empty hands, palms out, in what she hopes is a universally-understood "please calm down and don't freak out again" gesture.]
Fine—that's fine. We're safe, now.
[that other latch, the mysterious one every working door in this town has, clicks into place. She swallows.]
[she shakes her head, and says quickly, almost dismissively:]
Don't mention it. You're safe, for tonight, at least; that's what matters.
[she sighs and pushes away from the door. She picks up her spear, only to prop it against the wall, and steps carefully past him and into the living room, leaving pawprints of melting snow across the dusty hardwood floor. She speaks up again as she crouches by the small fire, her back towards him:]
[Armin can't help but stare as she passes him, his eyes travelling over her general frame, her tail, her strange paws. He can't say he isn't afraid anymore, but even under the fear there is curiosity.
Her question shakes him out of his revery, and he nods slightly.]
Ah, yes. It's not much, but we can share.
[Scrambling up from the floor, he stomps his feet for a moment to shake the snow off his boots, before he starts to draw closer to the fire, his movements slow.]
My name is Armin. I figure, if we are going to be trapped together for the coming few hours, you might as well know it.
[she pulls off her hat and sets it on the floor to dry in front of the fire, and looks up at him through her disheveled hair as he moves closer. She shifts to one side to give him some space to sit, and gives him a small, but hopefully encouraging smile. She's careful, however, to not show any of her sharp teeth.]
Armin. [she echoes his name, trying out the sounds.] I'm Freya.
[she nods at the fire as she puts on another piece of kindling from a small pile next to her: the smashed-up pieces of one of the room's two end tables, by the look of it.]
Come; sit down. You look frozen right through. You'd better lose that wet coat, too; I'll fetch you a blanket.
He unbuttons his coat and shrugs out of it, spreading it out against the ground a little way away where it can slowly dry. His boots follow, so his feet can properly dry near the fire. With that done, he sets to work to unpack his pack. There's some food in there, and two bottles of water. Armin really hadn't intended to stay out all day, so he had not thought to pack more than a day's worth of rations, leaving most of his things in the cabin he normally stays at. There is a notebook too, along with a pen, that Amin had been using to record his findings in.]
It's not much [he says, his voice almost apologetic] but we can share it.
[as she shrugs off her own coat, she looks over her shoulder to watch him as he unpacks. Her heart goes out to him: he doesn't have much with him at all. She can't help but feel a bit of pity for him as he strips off his wet things: with their soft, blunt fingers and feet and their bald skin, humans seem so naturally vulnerable, and this boy moreso than most. No offense, Armin, but you're a pitiful sight.]
[She's careful to not let her feelings show on her face, but he'll probably notice how closely she's watching him. He might also notice her nose twitching as she tries to scent out what kind of food he's got.]
Ah, good: you've got water. If that's all the food you've got, though, you should keep it—you look like you need it. I'll share some of mine.
[Armin notices her eyes on him, but he doesn't say a thing. It's to be expected. Neither of them know each other and here he is unpacking a pack that could very well hold a weapon. Not that he exactly thinks he could take her on even if he did have one, not when she towers over him like she does, but it is a reasonable concern. Besides, she is absolutely strange to him, like nothing he has seen before, but perhaps that feeling is mutual? Maybe she has never seen a human before in the same way he has never seen a... whatever it is that she is before.]
No, it's fine. This is not all I have, just all I was carrying with me. I didn't want to slow myself down too much carrying everything.
[Plus, it is always good to keep your eggs in more than one basket. If he would've carried everything with him and then lost his pack for whatever reason, he'd be completely out of food.]
[her eyes brighten at him from behind her hair. Good. There's more to this kid than meets the eye.]
Very smart. All right, then; we'll both share.
[she spreads her coat out by her hat, then picks herself up onto her feet and pads over to her backpack. She glances down at his supplies again as she passes, her eyes lingering on his notebook, and after she's dragged her pack over next to the fireplace and sat back down (inwardly mourning the lack of a soft couch and chairs in this house), she says:]
[Those who can't be strong, have to be smart. Or perish.
Armin's eyes flick to the notebook when she mentions. He considers whether or not to tell her, before deciding that there really is no reason not to. They all seem to be stuck in the same situation, captured by persons unknown only to get dumped in this place. Working together is probably the only way they are going to understand the mysteries of this place, figure out who had taken them here (and why) and make their escape.
He touches the cover for a moment.]
Not... not quite a journal. More a record of things. I have no intention of staying here longer than I have to, but I don't think we'll be able to get out until we understand this place better. [He shrugs slightly.] I've been examining some of the abandoned buildings and recording what I've found. I don't know if it'll help, but it is better than doing nothing.
[well, dang. She even pauses rummaging in her pack to look at him, openly impressed.]
I'll say. A record like that could come in useful—and not just for scavenging's sake.
[her capture and this dead, empty town had been altogether too strange for her to want to confront right away, which had turned into her thinking primarily of finding useful supplies and keeping herself alive for the past week rather than trying to unravel any mysteries. In hindsight, maybe she should have put in more effort to puzzle out the town from the beginning, but better late than never.]
...I didn't think to do anything like that. Most I've done is kept track of the days.
[she sets some things aside—a can of soup, a small tin of vienna sausages—and pulls a folded fleece blanket out of her pack. She holds it out to him. It's frayed and kind of musty-smelling, like everything else in this town, and there's definitely some strands of short, gray fur stuck to it here and there, but it looks warm enough.]
[He doesn't mind the musty smell or the fur stuck to it --honestly, he lived with a bunch of boys in a single dorm for years, he has seen and smelled much worse-- but he doesn't feel right accepting her blanket if that means she will be cold.
They can get back to what he has and hasn't discovered once the blanket question is dealt with.]
Hm? Oh—yes, of course. I managed just fine before I found it.
[by sleeping under her coat, which, while not ideal, kept her from freezing. She leans forward and plops the blanket down where he can reach it, then gestures to her whole... everything]
I've got fur. You don't. That little patch on top of your head doesn't count.
[He can't... really argue with that. She does have fur and he has not. Reaching for the blanket, he pulls it across his narrow shoulders. For now, at least. If she looks like she might be getting cold, he'll hand it right back.
With the blanket thing settled though, it is back to his notebook.]
I'm... not sure if I can say I've found anything yet. It's hard to say when I don't know what might be relevant.
[Which means that so far Armin has been recording everything. Along with a very crude map he has been making. There is a big chance that most of what he's recording will never be of any use, but that doesn't deter him. It is as he said earlier: even doing something useless is better than doing nothing.]
[she's relieved when he wraps himself in the blanket. She will be a bit uncomfortable without it, but she wasn't lying when she told him she thought he'd need it more.]
...Ah. Well—keep it up, anyway. It's a good idea.
[unless it means you almost die in the snow, nerd. Which brings her to her next question, as she turns away to untie the small cooking pot hanging from her backpack:]
Is that what kept you out so late tonight? Exploring?
Mhmm. I didn't realize how late it was until I was already heading back. And by that time it was too late to turn around.
[The light is so low here, and the dark comes on so quickly, that it is easy to lose track of the time. It's a bad habit, really. He can lose himself in a book for hours as well. Back home, losing track of the time had never been this dangerous though. And he had always had a few people there to snap him back to reality if needed.]
[He won't outright promise. Obviously he is not going to risk himself just for risk's sake, but sometimes you have to be willing to risk it all to move ahead. Playing it safe probably won't get them out of this place.
His stomach chooses to answer before he can though, growling audible at the sight of the can of pea soup. He's not unused to hunger but in this environment, where they burn so much energy just staying warm, it seems to hit harder. He drops his gaze, more than a bit flustered, before he gestures slightly to the food he took out of his pack earlier.]
I've got some bread.
[Bread --slightly stale, mostly tasteless-- and pea soup. The food of champions.]
[one of her ears twitches forward involuntarily at the sound, but she's careful to keep a straight face in an effort to stabilize his fluster levels. She looks at the bread.]
Ah—good. I've got this soup—[she fidgets with the pull tab on the can, finally peeling the top away with a snap]—and some little sausages. Put them together, and I reckon we've got a decent meal.
[or, at least, the closest they can get to one. She tips the soup into the pot: it's cold and congealed, but it smells all right, and her mouth starts to water immediately. She shifts the little can of vienna sausages over to Armin, then takes a metal spoon out of her pack and starts scraping out every bit of leftover soup from the can into the pot.]
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snowblindmemes2015-06-23 03:54 pm
no subject
You trying to kill both of us!?
no subject
Once he is manhandled over the threshold, Armin doesn't immediately respond, giving her the chance to properly close the door and himself the chance to force down the panic and fogging exhaustion and actually think. She helped him. Twice. She also seems to have some sort of crude spear, which means that if she wanted to rob him or kill him, she could've easily done it already when he was on his knees. But she hadn't. Instead she had pulled him inside, saving him from sure death.
He chances another glance up at her face, and while it is still startling and like nothing he has ever seen or heard of, it is the face of his unlikely rescuer.]
Sorry. You-- you startled me.
[Which is the diplomatic way of saying nearly made me piss my pants.]
no subject
[he is small: small, young, and very scared. He's also apparently human. She knows there are humans, even in her own land, who have never met someone of her race; if he's one of them, that would explain his reaction, so she decides to cut him some slack. Her ears are pressed back flat against her head from nerves, but she holds up her empty hands, palms out, in what she hopes is a universally-understood "please calm down and don't freak out again" gesture.]
Fine—that's fine. We're safe, now.
[that other latch, the mysterious one every working door in this town has, clicks into place. She swallows.]
...With not a moment to spare.
no subject
For better or worse, they are safe from the night's cold for now, with only each other for company for the coming few hours until dawn comes.]
I'm-- thank you. For saving me. Without you, I would've...
[He lets it trail off, certain that she can fill in the blank herself.]
no subject
Don't mention it. You're safe, for tonight, at least; that's what matters.
[she sighs and pushes away from the door. She picks up her spear, only to prop it against the wall, and steps carefully past him and into the living room, leaving pawprints of melting snow across the dusty hardwood floor. She speaks up again as she crouches by the small fire, her back towards him:]
Got any food in that pack of yours?
no subject
Her question shakes him out of his revery, and he nods slightly.]
Ah, yes. It's not much, but we can share.
[Scrambling up from the floor, he stomps his feet for a moment to shake the snow off his boots, before he starts to draw closer to the fire, his movements slow.]
My name is Armin. I figure, if we are going to be trapped together for the coming few hours, you might as well know it.
no subject
Armin. [she echoes his name, trying out the sounds.] I'm Freya.
[she nods at the fire as she puts on another piece of kindling from a small pile next to her: the smashed-up pieces of one of the room's two end tables, by the look of it.]
Come; sit down. You look frozen right through. You'd better lose that wet coat, too; I'll fetch you a blanket.
no subject
[And sensible.
He unbuttons his coat and shrugs out of it, spreading it out against the ground a little way away where it can slowly dry. His boots follow, so his feet can properly dry near the fire. With that done, he sets to work to unpack his pack. There's some food in there, and two bottles of water. Armin really hadn't intended to stay out all day, so he had not thought to pack more than a day's worth of rations, leaving most of his things in the cabin he normally stays at. There is a notebook too, along with a pen, that Amin had been using to record his findings in.]
It's not much [he says, his voice almost apologetic] but we can share it.
no subject
[She's careful to not let her feelings show on her face, but he'll probably notice how closely she's watching him. He might also notice her nose twitching as she tries to scent out what kind of food he's got.]
Ah, good: you've got water. If that's all the food you've got, though, you should keep it—you look like you need it. I'll share some of mine.
no subject
No, it's fine. This is not all I have, just all I was carrying with me. I didn't want to slow myself down too much carrying everything.
[Plus, it is always good to keep your eggs in more than one basket. If he would've carried everything with him and then lost his pack for whatever reason, he'd be completely out of food.]
no subject
Very smart. All right, then; we'll both share.
[she spreads her coat out by her hat, then picks herself up onto her feet and pads over to her backpack. She glances down at his supplies again as she passes, her eyes lingering on his notebook, and after she's dragged her pack over next to the fireplace and sat back down (inwardly mourning the lack of a soft couch and chairs in this house), she says:]
Keeping a journal, Armin?
no subject
Armin's eyes flick to the notebook when she mentions. He considers whether or not to tell her, before deciding that there really is no reason not to. They all seem to be stuck in the same situation, captured by persons unknown only to get dumped in this place. Working together is probably the only way they are going to understand the mysteries of this place, figure out who had taken them here (and why) and make their escape.
He touches the cover for a moment.]
Not... not quite a journal. More a record of things. I have no intention of staying here longer than I have to, but I don't think we'll be able to get out until we understand this place better. [He shrugs slightly.] I've been examining some of the abandoned buildings and recording what I've found. I don't know if it'll help, but it is better than doing nothing.
no subject
I'll say. A record like that could come in useful—and not just for scavenging's sake.
[her capture and this dead, empty town had been altogether too strange for her to want to confront right away, which had turned into her thinking primarily of finding useful supplies and keeping herself alive for the past week rather than trying to unravel any mysteries. In hindsight, maybe she should have put in more effort to puzzle out the town from the beginning, but better late than never.]
...I didn't think to do anything like that. Most I've done is kept track of the days.
[she sets some things aside—a can of soup, a small tin of vienna sausages—and pulls a folded fleece blanket out of her pack. She holds it out to him. It's frayed and kind of musty-smelling, like everything else in this town, and there's definitely some strands of short, gray fur stuck to it here and there, but it looks warm enough.]
Find out anything interesting yet?
no subject
Will you be okay without it?
[He doesn't mind the musty smell or the fur stuck to it --honestly, he lived with a bunch of boys in a single dorm for years, he has seen and smelled much worse-- but he doesn't feel right accepting her blanket if that means she will be cold.
They can get back to what he has and hasn't discovered once the blanket question is dealt with.]
no subject
[by sleeping under her coat, which, while not ideal, kept her from freezing. She leans forward and plops the blanket down where he can reach it, then gestures to her whole... everything]
I've got fur. You don't. That little patch on top of your head doesn't count.
no subject
[He can't... really argue with that. She does have fur and he has not. Reaching for the blanket, he pulls it across his narrow shoulders. For now, at least. If she looks like she might be getting cold, he'll hand it right back.
With the blanket thing settled though, it is back to his notebook.]
I'm... not sure if I can say I've found anything yet. It's hard to say when I don't know what might be relevant.
[Which means that so far Armin has been recording everything. Along with a very crude map he has been making. There is a big chance that most of what he's recording will never be of any use, but that doesn't deter him. It is as he said earlier: even doing something useless is better than doing nothing.]
no subject
...Ah. Well—keep it up, anyway. It's a good idea.
[unless it means you almost die in the snow, nerd. Which brings her to her next question, as she turns away to untie the small cooking pot hanging from her backpack:]
Is that what kept you out so late tonight? Exploring?
no subject
[The light is so low here, and the dark comes on so quickly, that it is easy to lose track of the time. It's a bad habit, really. He can lose himself in a book for hours as well. Back home, losing track of the time had never been this dangerous though. And he had always had a few people there to snap him back to reality if needed.]
no subject
You ought to be more careful. Might not be anyone around to pull you in out of the snow, next time.
[she tilts the can to show him the label: "Split Pea".]
Hungry?
[it's a useless question. Of course he's hungry. She's hungry; everyone's hungry. This town is absolutely the worst.]
no subject
[He won't outright promise. Obviously he is not going to risk himself just for risk's sake, but sometimes you have to be willing to risk it all to move ahead. Playing it safe probably won't get them out of this place.
His stomach chooses to answer before he can though, growling audible at the sight of the can of pea soup. He's not unused to hunger but in this environment, where they burn so much energy just staying warm, it seems to hit harder. He drops his gaze, more than a bit flustered, before he gestures slightly to the food he took out of his pack earlier.]
I've got some bread.
[Bread --slightly stale, mostly tasteless-- and pea soup. The food of champions.]
no subject
Ah—good. I've got this soup—[she fidgets with the pull tab on the can, finally peeling the top away with a snap]—and some little sausages. Put them together, and I reckon we've got a decent meal.
[or, at least, the closest they can get to one. She tips the soup into the pot: it's cold and congealed, but it smells all right, and her mouth starts to water immediately. She shifts the little can of vienna sausages over to Armin, then takes a metal spoon out of her pack and starts scraping out every bit of leftover soup from the can into the pot.]
Here—open those. See if they're still good.