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.
Transparency. You want people to go exploring instead of you; I'm telling them why, so they can weigh if they want to fall in.
[Lacking legs to bend, he sinks down onto a coil of orange tail and sets to snapping pictures. It will be easier if he transcribes the message into text, but maybe someone will know the handwriting, and it serves as some proof that he's not pulling this out of his ass. If there's one thing he wants to convey, it's that it's not his idea.]
Explain in the comments if you want. I'm just passing along the info.
[Speaking of, he sets to the transcription part, still sat on his tail.]
Sylar did a lot of things out of spite. Staying alive was probably one of them. That gross cough/laugh that came out of him sure sounded spiteful.
"Every chance, huh? You sound like that pretty girl who came into my shop when I was trying to kill myself. You know, after the first time. She 'saved' me from my fate. Except she was part of some organization that wanted to see how I took Brian's ability."
He spat out that last line, looking down at the ground where his blood had finally reached the floor. Too bad about this coat. He wondered if it'd still have the hole when he woke up again. "Damn, Mohinder. This really hurts," he said, his voice increasingly weak. He seemed to have used up most of his fight already, and his body was starting to feel numb. "You couldn't have stabbed me somewhere else?"
Transparency would sooner be us explaining we know not what dangers may be in store, not my personal opinion on those whom decide to take to the task.
[He doesn't even sound offended, really. More matter-of-fact if anything. Otherwise he'll leave it at that. No point in arguing when Davesprite seems keen to justify his petty inclusion.
Instead he takes to idly wandering about Davesprite's being. He's got more tact than to ask outright, after all, but he cannot help his general curiosity over the orange-colored boy who loses that description once your gaze leaves his face and torso, the rest of him being bird-like or ghost-like.
For all of the monsters in Vana'diel, he cannot say he's seen anything quite like Davesprite.]
He hadn't been planning on responding but now, Mohinder's curiosity was piqued. He lifted his head, searching out Sylar in the near dark. Without their tablets, seeing at night was possible only with the windows open, scant moonlight bouncing off of fresh snow to make the occupants at least partially visible. Mohinder wet his lips. Bad idea. They seemed to instantly chap.
"You tried to kill your self? Is that why you covered that back room--"
Yeah. Sorry. He went snooping in your apartment in Queens. He'd been really curious about the crazy that caused someone to make something like that when the rest of the apartment was obsessively neat.
[Davesprite rolls his eyes behind his shades. He can type his own misgivings in after the meat of it, since there are certainly potential dangers. They debated them enough already. But Lehko's dreaming if he thinks he's going to retract the quote.]
[He doesn't speak up again until a moment or so later. He noticed the wandering and staring from the start, but it's him keeping it up that draws his voice.]
You gonna keep prowling? There's other rooms to dig through if you're bored. Maybe one of them will have dirty poetry scratched on its wall. Maybe leave your own. What counts as poetry in the furry dimension, odes to hairballs and catnip?
[Note to self: leave a rap for someone someday. This place is depressing without any good music to listen to.]
Sylar's eyes narrowed at the question. But that was as far as he got before everything seemed to rapidly become harder and further away. Mohinder's shadow swam in his vision, and he closed his eyes to try and counter the nausea.
His breathing hitched a couple times, and then seemed to even out. Or stop. One of those.
Sorry, Mohinder. This conversation was just going to have to continue sometime later.
Note: Sylar would be calling himself Zane Taylor at this point in time- if you want your character to be familiar with him, feel free to call him Zane.
[ He spends a little time staring at the screen before realizing it's recording, or broadcasting, or whatever the video function on the Network did. He give the camera a timid smile and holds up a bottle. ]
So, uh- I found some...Oxycontin? But the label's ripped. I can't see who it belongs to. Is someone missing this? I can try to get it to you, if you're close.
[Oh, is that how it's gonna be? You gonna play it like that, Meow Mix? Davesprite tilts his head up, expression about as challenge accepted as a flat mouth and guarded eyes can be. He hits the post button on his device, locks and pockets it, then rises back up to proper height.]
You ever heard a bird beatbox, bro?
[Check it: chirp chirp caw, ch-ch-chirp chirp caw, caw peep chirp caw, caw, caw. He mimes the mic and the record spinning for good measure.]
Hear the bird say peep, I say drop that beat. Got no record to scratch, but they got feet to match, Talons deadly as swords. You say that you want more? Maybe this cat thinks its dumb, Says my talent's just crumbs, Take your rest in a nest with only eggs for fun. But I turn rhymes in snap, timed slick with wing flaps, Leave you left in the dust with only worms and crap. But aren't worms what birds eat? Listen, I'm hungry for meat. I see fools pawing for scraps, taking ease with cat naps, Too complacent to contemplate what I got on tap. Think you can stand up and hand it when you're the one that demands it? Try your rhymes if you've got 'em, but I doubt I can stand it. You're carrion, but I'll carry on, making off like a bandit. Muzzle that muzzle! 'swhat they'll scream to that flow. You think you're flying high when I've got you down low, Hacking hairballs at strip malls before sad strangers' feet. But I'm proving it now: I just can't be beat.
[He straightens here at the end, expression as even as he started. There's your challenge, bro. Can you meet it?]
[This isn't exactly what Lehko was expecting, and the type of music this is... well, he's unfamiliar at best. He listens, though, and looks entertained all the while. Even with the jabs at him, he's not bothered even slightly.
At the end, he gives Davesprite a polite applause.]
I cannot say I am familiar with such forms of music, a type of poem unpracticed whence I hail—but that was entertaining, and for a layman I would say you are quite talented coming up with that on the fly.
[yes, he had to go there.]
Were music more my forte, I would reply in kind, but alas.
"Sylar...?" Mohinder whispered the name and the question that was conveyed with it. He waited for a response and when it did not come, he whispered the name again.
It took half an hour for him to crawl his way towards the body. He found Sylar's eyelids slightly open and he closed them gently before he checked for a pulse.
Nothing.
He spent the remainder of the night with two dead bodies and just before the dawn struck, he worked at the doors until the kitchen spit him out.
He would go it alone, taking Sylar's pack with him.
[ By stabbing it. Jerking back trying to free himself from Kanan's hold, while trying to pull the Jedi over the stupid breathing corpse. Shifting onto his rear as he sets lets heels against the thing's side. ]
If you want to play nice to it [ Pushing the corpse into Kanan as he continues to lean back and struggle. ] then you can have it.
Glad ya asked! That's just the kinda savvy buyer who walks away with a trio of life-affirmin' pills at a discount!
Acceptable methods of payment include unspoiled rations, adorable tchotchkes, funny hats, good jokes, weapons both pointy and blunt, and rations. No credit or Bat-credit accepted.
Not my fault I don't know what your world's invented yet.
[She's the one who thought it might be a poultice. He's not entirely sure what a poultice is.]
I don't know what it does even if it's the real stuff. These names are impenetrable gibberish, and sometimes you've got brand names that tell you even less than the generic. And all the instructions say are like, 'take twice daily with meal', but not if you're nursing, pregnant, or may become pregnant, because then they might deform your quantum future baby somehow. It's a whole bottle of mystery to me.
[Homura is going to take longer. Sadly, she doesn't have any cat abilities to help, so she's stuck relying on her very human ears. She wants to be thorough anyway, even if it means doing something very dull.
Of course, when she doesn't find anything she's going to start trying to pull furniture around to look for any indication of a tunnel. Tables and chairs are easy enough... the shelving? Not so much when you don't have magic strength. She isn't about to give up easily though, even if means having to clean the shelves of any remaining toys to make them lighter.]
[Weird white aliens should be the ones stuck here, not them!
Joke's on him, she'll happily take a fate worse than death if it means protecting Madoka. Really, she kind of already was before she was pulled here.]
Until you show me proof of that theory I'm willing to take that chance. [Especially when she hasn't seen any indication that's how things work around here. She isn't looking to get killed but if such a thing happens while she's looking for an exit, so be it. Her life isn't worth that much anyways.]
You want to go because there's no proof we don't have infinite lives?
[It's practically a repeat of her own words, twisted around and rephrased with his own discouragement.]
I don't trust that. I come from somewhere that had extra lives built in and a whole mechanic for attaining immortality, but even that had limits. This stuff always has limits. Why does this matter so much to you?
[It's not that he doesn't get some of it. There's people here who have stuff worth going back to, who have more use in a home they know than one spent shuffling around ruins and rubble and helping acquaintances stave off cold, hungry death. But he is what he is from saving someone, and he can't shrug and shoo her along just because she says it's fine.]
[It aggravates him, too, that all this could come from some stupid message on a wall. It shouldn't bug him this much, shouldn't be so intense, but here he is still.]
[She doesn't say it out loud, but there's always the slight possibility of her zombie state still coming into play here. For all she knows the next time she suffers a life-threatening injury she'll be able to heal it with magic. Not that she's going to run out and actively test that... but she doesn't want to dismiss it yet.
(Or rather, the truth is that she's too desperate to dismiss even the smallest sliver of usefulness that could get her back to protecting Madoka.)
Homura doesn't bother answering his question. He won't believe her (likely) or he won't get it (chances are good), so there's no point in explaining why she does anything. She just turns to head towards the door. She doesn't sound angry at all.]
[He moves after her, orange tail lashing out just above the floorboards. What is it with dumb, reckless teens throwing themselves to danger at the first push? He'll follow her out the door if she keeps going.]
You can't just go alone. That's practically asking for probability to take a shit over you and dump you into danger. Shouldn't you—fuck—try to verify it? Ask the network if anyone knows the username? You're being stupid about it.
Stupid and difficult. Got it. Great. Do you just never give a shit what anyone else thinks, or are these special circumstances for you?
[Still following. He's not going to stop unless he has to, or unless she gives a real good reason to let her go it alone. She hasn't yet. He doubts she will.]
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snowblindmemes2016-08-14 08:47 pm
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