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!
Even though he was struggling badly still, he was also doing his best not to show it. He was proud enough, and blind enough to his current situation and the fact that he put himself there, that Altaïr ignorant thought he was pulling off looking fine. He did not in reality look fine at all. His face was bright red, there was frost on the sparse five o'clock shadow he had, and frost embedded so deep in his clothing that that they were stiff.
Altaïr was slumped against a chair, struggling to even remain standing as he tried to use one hand to wrap the blanket over his clothes. The other hand was planted on the chair arm to keep himself upright. As much as it felt as if he were hurrying, Vlad was suddenly back and looking at him, and asking him a question. Only one shoulder was covered in the blanket.
The truth was not something he was ready to admit, that he had been paranoid, hallucinating, and driven from his previous shelter. "I had to move. I could not find shelter."
”Ah, as it is.. we all… must move.” Vlad watched the other for a moment and found himself feeling a small pinch of pity. Having lived as long as he had Vlad considered that some of his biases came from his long lived years. For insistence he found himself more concerned on Altaïr’s mannerisms than what the other was currently saying — were he to take everything into consideration he would have perhaps concluded that the Syrian was dazed and confused rather than stubborn or modest. Either way, “You need to take those clothes off and I will set them by the fire to dry..” He said flatly.
“It is best to do our moving at day break —“ strange for myself.. to say such a thing. Vlad did not often do anything at morning’s first light.
The vampire moved to the fire and turned his back to Altaïr.
It was still an insult that his weapons had been stripped from him, even his hidden blade, and all that it symbolized. The hidden blade was more than a weapon of his Brotherhood, it was the instrument with which they enacted change, justice, and freedom in their world. Now, in this place, his own freedom was stripped from him and he was grossly unequipped to do anything about it at the current time.
Altaïr would not strip his clothes, not to this man who in that moment symbolized the injustice of his situation and the freedom he now lacked. If it was his choice to remain hidden in this last vestige of his Brotherhood, he would do so. It was his pride, it was his identity, and he refused to shed it.
Instead, he pushed himself carefully around the chair to sit on it rather than lean on it. Slowly but steadily he began getting the blanket more properly around him although he could not yet feel the heat it might offer, through his thick robes.
If he froze, Vlad thought with some benefit to himself, he’ll take the bit of life left in the other for himself. Terminally stubborn, however, was this man’s diagnosis. “Mm.” He was quiet a moment as he thought about the situation he was in as an equal like the others. If he had stayed out there any longer than he would believe himself to truly die, regardless of his many years of immortality he felt the risk of death here like he hadn’t felt it for over centuries.
Vlad then traced his steps to the window to watch the falling darkness — even standing here with the glass panel between himself and the winter death he felt its threat.
The two of them had spoken before, over the network, but they were still strangers here. That, as well, troubled Vlad for he was not accustomed to not being the worst force on earth, here it was this damning winter.
The silence suited him well, as the heat from the far and the comfort of the blanket began to seep through his frosted clothing. The more they thawed, the more wet and heavy they felt, and the assassin began accepting the heaviness of his limbs and tremble in his hands. Altaïr closed his eyes and huddled against himself for several minutes. With some luck, the man would go to bed and leave him to quickly try himself and get some sleep as well.
Before then, he would take this opportunity to learn more of the other. Altaïr opened his eyes and found Vlad in the room again, by the window, and he wondered for a moment if he had dozed off or if it was only a few minutes as he thought it had been. "Vlad, have you lived in this house for long?"
”Three days.” He said with a slow shake of his head. Vlad stood with his arms behind his back and his hands clasped together. His head was lowered and he was slouched, his eyes narrowed out into the darkness and his pose suffered its usual good posture so that he might chance a sight at some sort of answer in the blur. “And I will leave in two.”
Vlad straightened and turned to face Altaïr, his arms moved to his sides and he took a few steps toward where the ancient Syrian sat. “I have been here long enough to understand there is some correlation to the toxic that grows in my mind and the length of time I spend in the shelters that I find.”
That explained what had happened to him, Altaïr realized and felt the same way he did when Malik would give him a tongue lashing for his short-sightedness. Altaïr gave a small sound from his throat, which turned into a cough, which was interrupted by a loud sneeze. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair before looking up to the man from under his hood. The hood was starting to drip as it thawed out, making the stubborn man look even more ridiculous than he already did in his stubbornness.
"I stayed too long, it seems," he was willing to admit. Thinking of Malik had a calming effect on him, and he found himself strangely longing for the bruising, sandy, blistering hot winds of the desert. Right now that sounded much better than this.
"Do you know where you will go?" Altaïr thought to ask, blinking up at Vlad again before another, harder sneeze shook him.
Vlad gave a small nod, his eyes went to the bottom of Altaïr’s chair where droplets of thawed ice collected in pools of water beneath the other. His eyes then slowly moved up to the shadowed darkness that would be his face. The only real shapes he had been able to make out thus far through the interactions he’s had with Altaïr was the man’s jaw, his lips, and a teasing glimpse of the man’s throat.
His blood would be warm. Vlad thought on that for a moment before the fingers on his left hand curled into a fist. I could have him easily, he is still half frozen and only just barely coming out of his dazed confusion. Temptation was so easy as he lived, breathed, and flocked with his food — a true wolf in sheep’s wool. Vlad’s lips parted and he exhaled before taking in a fresh breath through his nostrils. The scent of the other came strong beneath the winter’s stale chill that coated Altaïr.
“Wherever others are..” He answered slowly. “Some place close..” Vlad wondered if he would find some more helpful items on the way. Such as this Afghan blanket Altaïr drenched more than he allowed it to warm him due to his stubbornness. Or embarrassment? Vlad cocked his head and he addressed this, “why do you choose to suffer.. with your … frozen, wet, robes?”
"..." Altaïr opened his mouth but no sound came out as he wondered on whether his reasons would make sense to the man or not, or what business it even was of his. He recognized his stubbornness as it reared its head again and he ended up looking away as he considered his options.
Perhaps Vlad was owed an explanation after he took him in from the cold, but Altaïr did not feel like sharing. Instead, he gave the man the satisfaction of knowing he was he was heard: Altaïr stood up and turned his back to Vlad and began disrobing. Off came the boots, the leather straps, the useless bracers, and finally his hood, outer robe, and undershirt. Altaïr left the trousers on, and kept his back to Vlad while reaching behind him to grab the blanket.
He turned the blanket inside out and wrapped it around himself, essentially creating a new hood out of the blanket so that when he sat back down, his face was still shadowed. He didn't say a word.
Vlad had to recognize the satisfaction he felt in Altaïr’s recognition in how ridiculous his handling of his well-being was. He was glad the Syrian decided on a smarter resolution to his predicament. Vlad also recognized his hunger thriving at the bared skin before him, but he kept a distance and would not feed from the Syrian. For a few reasons the predominant one being that he found a comfort of familiarity within the other and he rather liked the feeling of home that came with Altaïr’s ancient descent from the past. Despite the few centuries between himself and Altaïr, the other was the closest reminder of his very old life.
There was a dusty rug in front of the hearth but he was sure it would satisfy Altaïr for the night if he chose it. For himself, he would sleep in the mostly decayed living room chair that sat off to the side, a few feet from the fire and a few feet from the window. There was no other heat source to the home and they would have to share this fire for adequate comfort through the chill of night.
“You are welcome to stay, I do not have much.. but you may use what you can find. Myself, I will sleep there,” he gestured to the chair, “and I will not disturb you any more this night.” With that Vlad took his seat, stretched out his legs, rest his arms over his lap, and settled his head back against the chair. It was uncomfortable but his body was too tired to care, and sleep would have him like it had him centuries ago.
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snowblindmemes2015-06-23 03:54 pm
no subject
Altaïr was slumped against a chair, struggling to even remain standing as he tried to use one hand to wrap the blanket over his clothes. The other hand was planted on the chair arm to keep himself upright. As much as it felt as if he were hurrying, Vlad was suddenly back and looking at him, and asking him a question. Only one shoulder was covered in the blanket.
The truth was not something he was ready to admit, that he had been paranoid, hallucinating, and driven from his previous shelter. "I had to move. I could not find shelter."
no subject
“It is best to do our moving at day break —“ strange for myself.. to say such a thing. Vlad did not often do anything at morning’s first light.
The vampire moved to the fire and turned his back to Altaïr.
no subject
Altaïr would not strip his clothes, not to this man who in that moment symbolized the injustice of his situation and the freedom he now lacked. If it was his choice to remain hidden in this last vestige of his Brotherhood, he would do so. It was his pride, it was his identity, and he refused to shed it.
Instead, he pushed himself carefully around the chair to sit on it rather than lean on it. Slowly but steadily he began getting the blanket more properly around him although he could not yet feel the heat it might offer, through his thick robes.
"Agreed."
no subject
Vlad then traced his steps to the window to watch the falling darkness — even standing here with the glass panel between himself and the winter death he felt its threat.
The two of them had spoken before, over the network, but they were still strangers here. That, as well, troubled Vlad for he was not accustomed to not being the worst force on earth, here it was this damning winter.
no subject
Before then, he would take this opportunity to learn more of the other. Altaïr opened his eyes and found Vlad in the room again, by the window, and he wondered for a moment if he had dozed off or if it was only a few minutes as he thought it had been. "Vlad, have you lived in this house for long?"
no subject
Vlad straightened and turned to face Altaïr, his arms moved to his sides and he took a few steps toward where the ancient Syrian sat. “I have been here long enough to understand there is some correlation to the toxic that grows in my mind and the length of time I spend in the shelters that I find.”
no subject
"I stayed too long, it seems," he was willing to admit. Thinking of Malik had a calming effect on him, and he found himself strangely longing for the bruising, sandy, blistering hot winds of the desert. Right now that sounded much better than this.
"Do you know where you will go?" Altaïr thought to ask, blinking up at Vlad again before another, harder sneeze shook him.
no subject
His blood would be warm. Vlad thought on that for a moment before the fingers on his left hand curled into a fist. I could have him easily, he is still half frozen and only just barely coming out of his dazed confusion. Temptation was so easy as he lived, breathed, and flocked with his food — a true wolf in sheep’s wool. Vlad’s lips parted and he exhaled before taking in a fresh breath through his nostrils. The scent of the other came strong beneath the winter’s stale chill that coated Altaïr.
“Wherever others are..” He answered slowly. “Some place close..” Vlad wondered if he would find some more helpful items on the way. Such as this Afghan blanket Altaïr drenched more than he allowed it to warm him due to his stubbornness. Or embarrassment? Vlad cocked his head and he addressed this, “why do you choose to suffer.. with your … frozen, wet, robes?”
no subject
Perhaps Vlad was owed an explanation after he took him in from the cold, but Altaïr did not feel like sharing. Instead, he gave the man the satisfaction of knowing he was he was heard: Altaïr stood up and turned his back to Vlad and began disrobing. Off came the boots, the leather straps, the useless bracers, and finally his hood, outer robe, and undershirt. Altaïr left the trousers on, and kept his back to Vlad while reaching behind him to grab the blanket.
He turned the blanket inside out and wrapped it around himself, essentially creating a new hood out of the blanket so that when he sat back down, his face was still shadowed. He didn't say a word.
no subject
There was a dusty rug in front of the hearth but he was sure it would satisfy Altaïr for the night if he chose it. For himself, he would sleep in the mostly decayed living room chair that sat off to the side, a few feet from the fire and a few feet from the window. There was no other heat source to the home and they would have to share this fire for adequate comfort through the chill of night.
“You are welcome to stay, I do not have much.. but you may use what you can find. Myself, I will sleep there,” he gestured to the chair, “and I will not disturb you any more this night.” With that Vlad took his seat, stretched out his legs, rest his arms over his lap, and settled his head back against the chair. It was uncomfortable but his body was too tired to care, and sleep would have him like it had him centuries ago.