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: DRUG PUSHING What luck! You've found a bottle of medication...only, oh, it looks like it's a prescription for one of the other people trapped here with you. You have a lot of power in your hands now: you could do the right thing and give it back without a fight, demand a worthy trade to see how badly they want it, or auction it off to the highest bidder. They're not the only ones who could use a painkiller or an antidepressant, after all. If you don't need it for yourself, you're sure to be able to fetch a high price (or bank some high gratitude points) for it from someone.
TWO: CHECK YOUR RECEIPTS After a long day of traveling, you reach into your bag to scrounge up some dinner but you find that all of your food has gone bad. Everything, including the rations you stocked up on just yesterday, is covered in a thick layer of mold. Even the packaged nonperishables are somehow spoiled. Your whole backpack reeks of rot, and nothing edible has been spared. Maybe you can restock tomorrow, but what if you're not the only one whose food has been tainted? And what about the meal you had for lunch just hours ago? Your stomach turns. You'd better take to the network to get to the bottom of this
Action Prompts
THREE: WRITING ON THE WALL You've just settled into a building for the night with your traveling companion when you notice a message left somewhere on one of the walls. It's signed by a username you don't recall ever seeing before. It tells you discoveries and facts about the town you don't think are really real or should be followed. Tells you that they're heading in a direction they're convinced has the exit, and urge you to follow their lead. One of you thinks it's worth consideration. After all, why would anyone leave a message like this if they didn't mean it? But there are risks involved in chasing the assertions. Do you have the resources left to try?
FOUR: CORPSE PARTY Just before lockdown, you and your traveling companion are about to seek shelter in the nearest building when you spot a huddled figure nearly buried in the snow. When you get a little closer, you see that it's a person wrapped tightly in a blanket. Neither of you recognizes them, but you can't be sure; the blanket covers their face. They seem to have succumbed to the elements, but it looks like they're still breathing! You manage to drag them into the building with you with seconds to spare. Good job, you've saved somebody's life! But, as you pull apart the blankets to check on your new companion, you realize that they're not a "somebody" at all... And you're locked in with it until morning.
[ The Cat is way better, he only refuses to speak! The half-truths are just a natural side-effect.
He doesn't find anything, and once he's finished a complete grid search he begins checking nooks and crannies. With his night vision he can see in dark places better than Homura can. ]
Mohinder just wasn't a monster. The fight bad washed out of him the moment he had gotten blood on his hands and he dropped the knife between them, mostly out of shock for what he had managed to accomplish. Eyes wide, he glanced down at his hands and retreated.
Sylar was right. He didn't have the stomach for this. Unfortunately, Sylar did. In two ways. If he had gotten the American deeply enough, he could very well spend the next hour or so bleeding out as spilled stomach acid made the pain borderline unbearable. He hadn't prepared for that either.
Mohinder had the passion for revenge but not the follow through.
Sylar watched with dismay as the knife fell from Mohinder's hands. "That was it?!" he yelled, with such volume that it actually hurt his stomach wound. It was becoming clear that this was...not a good, clean stab. It felt like his entire stomach was falling apart, in searing flashes of white hot pain. Sylar sank to the floor, dabbing at the wound with his gloved hand. "You're just going to gut me and leave me to die, bleeding out on the floor. Oh, you are so much crueler than I expected. Thoughtless, just like your father."
He grunted with pain as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position. There was none. He was painfully cold. "Is it still murder if you drag it out for long enough, do you think?" he asked, his voice weakening.
but you won't deny them, either that's interesting you were earlier telling me you weren't any of the above did i wear you down or hit a sore spot? so, it's a person
going by the whole "too cool for skool" vibe you've got going on... girlfriend? boyfriend? the one you want to be your girlfriend or boyfriend? but damn if they aren't oblivious so you tell yourself you don't care even while you pine
or you've got a pet dog you miss but i'm gonna go with the first thing better drama
[ So no, not letting go. Kanan's stronger than he looks, though if there's much more of this struggling he's going to have to actually try and subdue Vanitas. ]
"You deserve worse." There was little to no fire behind the words. "So much worse." It was like he was trying to convince himself of that fact as the dark spot on Sylar's coat grew. Mohinder drew up his knees. He thought that revenge would be more satisfying. He thought it would wash away the hurt. He and Chandra had never been close. Mohinder would have liked them to be but his father was more motivated by his work than anything else. If he had known why, if he had moved to follow in his footsteps earlier, maybe this all could have been prevented.
Mohinder didn't have any of the answers. He had had a man who had been his friend ten minutes ago and his enemy all along bleeding out on the floor in a house he was locked inside of.
"It's still murder," he whispered. If-- When Sylar died of this wound, if he returned to life in the morgue, Mohinder wasn't sure what he'd do. All he knew was that he wanted tonight to be over. He wanted to be alone. And he could never trust anyone again.
Mohinder was about to find out that Sylar would take an infuriatingly long time to die. People with more determination had tried before. He'd always bounced back- and while he doubted he was going to bounce back this time, he was going to make the most of it.
But the pain made him more honest, distracting him as it was. "Feels awful, doesn't it?," he asked weakly, leaning back against the stove he'd been so annoyed with earlier. "You try to make amends, move on. And then you find out no one wants you for anything but murder. You're good at it. So you don't have..." He coughed, wincing. And while it sounded wet and painful, he was also emphasizing it for the sake of drama. "...anything else."
[He has no concern about dragging the dead thing inside with them. What does a killer of demons have to fear from a corpse? Aside from the actual problem of getting it inside, of course. The two of them are smaller than the body and even with both of them, it's hard to manage. But Peter is above all other things a determined jerk. They finally do get the body inside. Unfortunately, it seems like it'll grow dark before they can loot it and get it outside again.]
See? Told ya we could do it. I'll see if we can start a fire.
Tch. You sound like you're just sure you're always gonna have everything.
[He grins. The expression is partly mocking, as a young man will do when he hears an adult talk about life values, because no matter the person or the era, he will never understand that outlook. But there's also a casual confidence in his own response.]
How 'bout you actually find stuff first? Then we can see whose hunt's more useful.
The thought that such mold could grrrow from such scant amount of heat is worrying.
[He's no botanist, or scientist, or any such that handles molds of any variety, and he won't claim to be it either, but the idea that body heat could cause such growth... it's alarming.]
I'm afraid I haven't much to offer. I was collecting food primarily, not wanting to waste my strength on what prrroves to otherwise not be a necessity...
[He's mainly grabbed knives for himself, knives and food, and now his food is, well...]
He offers her an amused look, before gesturing to the dumbwaiter. The zombie should fit, with some uh... effort. It won't be pretty, to say the least, but at least they can feasibly get the thing out of their hair.
"I've not the strrrength to make the creature fit, but surely you do?"
[Lehko follows, his eyes going to that tail, and idly he considers grabbing it, or attempting to. Of course, he doesn't, but the thought is there, and the temptation its company. There's more important things at the moment, anyway.
Once at the wall, he crosses his arms over his chest, one hand rising to his chin as he considers the message, and the name—unfortunately it seems as though it's an unfamiliar one.]
I know not who they are. Poor fortune, that. However, mayhap someone else on the network would?
[His tail swishes idly behind him as he pauses for a moment...]
Though, I wonder if this might be some sort of trrrap.
[It's kind of hard to ignore the tail. Long, bright orange, and sinuous, it trails out behind him like a dragged string. More than once he had to suffer Jaspers going after it, as if being part bird weren't enough.]
[He shrugs one-shouldered at his question.]
Might be. Some tool we don't know offering mystery advice on a wall to whoever comes by, no backup, not enough details.
[The corner of his mouth twitches faintly as the thought of John comes to mind.]
Wouldn't be the first time I've seen someone troll the gullible to get them killed. Even if we just come back here, who wants to die?
Cannot say I am unfamiliar with the impermanence of death. However, it does little to blunt the horrid experience.
[Of course, this just sounds like he's died here before. Allowing his arms to slacken at his sides, he also shrugs.]
Either we ignore it or we follow it. Could mean our salvation or certain doom. What a predicament to be in.
I feel if any on the network knew of this person, or of this way out, they would not be here, or would have warrrned us by now of this trap. Which leads me to believe we are the first to discover it out of whom remains.
[Not that it matters to him. Even if he never died directly in his life before, people coming back from the dead was downright standard among Sburb's many winding paths.]
[Instead, it's the thought of escape that still takes up his mind. Asking the network about it would be the obvious thing, wouldn't it? But where would it lead, if this does turn out real? Traipsing through the snow living off scavenged supplies isn't an easy life, but...]
If you want to check it out, whatever, but I'm not going to be the one tumbling ghost ass over beak to somersault my way to suffering. And what does salvation mean here? Maybe we'll just find the way from one godawful biome to another, trade freezing our tails off for a sea of sweat and humidity, and I already did double time with that in my life.
I would not mind a change in temperature, I am a bit more accustom to the heat.
[Olzhirya tended towards the tropic, anyways. And once on the continent of Mindartia, he had resided in Windurst, which too was more tropic. At this point, he'd kill if it meant he didn't have to worry about losing anything to frostbite.]
Nevertheless, I am not so naive to go head first into a possible trap. Mayhap we should indeed share this with the network, those who are more brave—or stupid—could prrrove useful.
[He's not so subtly suggesting they allow others without sense or self preservation be guinea pigs. If they die, that solves the mystery, if they leave, then it's legit and those who wish to go, can.]
[And Davesprite had Texas, with its humid summers and snow-deficient winters, and the stifling, lava-choked Land of Heat and Clockwork. Would he be more accustomed to it? Sure, absolutely. And despite his complaints, he could adapt fine. He has before. He's made it here.]
[But Lehko pushes for the network again, and his phrasing catches him up. More brave or stupid—one comes with judgment, the other with intent to deceive, and the lines of his face harden for it.]
Dude. You want to go sending people off to their doom? If this is a trap, you wouldn't be any better than whatever asshole wrote this in the first place. If you want to tell the network, whatever, but if you're that set on seeing what's out there, then at least have the balls to explore it yourself.
[Lehko offers Davesprite an unimpressed look, ear flicking idly as the other lectures at him. His tail stilling as he eventually offers him a seemingly apologetic smile.]
I fear you misunderstand my intent: I look not to deceive or trrrick anyone into going into dangers unknown. However, if they are intent to go once I bequeath them with the knowledge of such without prrroper gauging of what dangers there may yet be, that's of no consequence to me. Just as if there are those who can and will gauge such, finding themselves brrrave enough to go, then who am I to question or stop them?
I am curious, that I freely admit to, but I am no gambler. However, I am an obserrrver, and obserrrve I shall if any feel themselves up to the task.
[His jaw shifts. It's a self-serving explanation, one that attempts to deflect responsibility. It's not the same as what Terezi did, and he came to terms with her after the fact, but the heart of the matter still lies with the flippant treatment of other's lives.]
Not the point. You can keep BSing that it's up to them if they go or not, but it's still on you for telling them. They'd be dying because you're too much of a coward to take charge of your own curiosity. You're not an observer; you're playing head games.
'Tis not cowardice that stays me, but my own personal considerrration of the possible dangers and whether or not I wish to rrrisk my safety for a maybe.
[He crosses his arms over his chest, giving Davesprite a once over.]
I have come to the conclusion that I wish not to take such a rrrisk. Others are frrree to do so at their own discretion, and if I were to keep this a secret, and we later find out it proves to be true, then I would be to blame for keeping my mouth shut, would I not? Be blamed for what sufferrring we could have avoided at an earlier date had I merely let those more willing to test such tumultuous waters know of their presence.
[He shrugs.]
The way I see it, either I am damned if I do, damned if I don't, but if you are so set on letting this mystery continue to be as such, then very well. Consider my lips sealed if it should serve to sooth your moral compass.
[There comes the pendulum swinging back the other way. Of course it can't be as easy as the risk; there has to be the weight of possible reward to counterbalance it, and with that comes its own guilt. His shoulders stiffen and his hands curl.]
[The thing that bothers him most is that Lehko is right. He can feel however he wants about going back, but what about everyone else? It's the possibility of leaving not just the snow but this world that has stayed him, yet there's no place for him to go judging whether others should feel the same. He can't be that selfish about it. It would be a dick move.]
Fuck it. Have it your way.
[He pulls his device from its pocket and pulls up the network app to start typing a post:]
so lehko and i found this writing on a wall by someone saying they might have found a way out dunno if its legit since its too vague and we dont recognize the username they signed with but theyve got directions for where theyre headed meow mix here wants to leave it up to anyone brave or stupid to go investigating and see what happens heres the message
[He doesn't offer it to Lehko to read, but he won't object if the dude goes peering at the message as he types it.]
[Lehko keeps his expression the same, not letting through the content he feels over this small victory. He does scoot over to take a gander at what he's typing, and raises an eyebrow at his wording.]
Are you so upset that you need to include the "brave or stupid" bit? If you are wishing to invoke the irrre of others towards me, this is a poor attempt to do so.
Sylar’s slurred words were upsetting, not because he was so close to death, but because they made Mohinder angrier. “No one wants you for murder.” He’s pretty sure of that. People don’t go around looking for other people to go around cutting people’s heads open. This wasn’t a book or a made for television movie. These things didn’t happen in real life. Mohinder could barely feel his nose and he tucked his whole head inside of the ring of not-quite warmth provided by his coat and his position.
Couldn’t Sylar just…pass? Why was he lingering? Was it just to spite him? How many more hours until sunlight would come anyway? It had grown dark before the seven o’clock lock down so he was looking at another twelve, maybe thirteen hours?
Longer?
“You didn’t have to be this. You have every chance to be something and someone else. We could have really gone around to warn and help people. Like you. Like Zane. You could have changed at any time and you didn’t! No one will ever feel sorry for you, Sylar.”
[His tone is even enough, but if people want to get mad that they aren't exploring it themselves, he can at least point them to the guy who was more a dick about it.]
[As for meow mix—]
Legendary title from a dead civilization. Don't worry about it.
I deny not my words, but more the use of the quote and what purrrpose you are hoping it will serrrve.
[The explanation... is odd, and he doubts that's truthful. However, he doesn't press it further because he's certain this kid isn't going to give him any truths.
As asked, he does move out of the way, silently observing him instead, tail flicking behind him once more.]
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snowblindmemes2016-08-14 08:47 pm
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