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.
"Somewhat less charming after realizing it's simply too sodding stupid to decide to do anything else." Cousland wryly responds, finally shaking off said zombie's tenuous grasp to pin it to the floor via a boot on the chest. Dog is half distracted by Thunder and half entirely confident that his person pretty much does this sort of stuff on a regular basis, so...
It's a damn shame her sword is nowhere to be found, or the house would have one less undead pest lurking under the floorboards.
"Seen any more of them around? They tend to travel in packs."
"They do, but, really, I'm surprised we're seeing them at all. There seems to be no life but us and those...anomaly things. Whatever they are."
If she had even a suitable walking stick she'd prod the thing. Instead she watches the creature writhe under Cousland's boot and sits opposite her. It clearly is no longer a threat, and whatever's in there (just rage? She can't think of anything else so dumb) isn't trying to escape and go for her, so it can stay there until it works itself to pieces, for all she cared.
"Until now. I wonder if it has anything to do with...with the length of our recent obituaries. If the deaths that don't remain dead weaken the Veil all... the same..."
She seems to realize the horror of what it would mean about getting her magic back and grows more visibly disturbed by the second as she speaks.
"...Well, then. That's...certainly a thought. As your Warden-Commander, I am ordering you never to repeat that idea where any of our local unrepentant murderers can hear it. Maker forbid the green-haired one get it into his head to cause even more chaos somehow..."
Cousland gives a scornful snort and promptly shifts her posture to use the zombie lump as a casual footrest, completely ignoring the fact it's very incompetently trying to eat her ankles.
"Demons are hardly the top of the food chain, all things considered. Knock enough teeth out of a Pride demon and the 'blood magic rituals complete with ominous chanting' starts getting a little mundane."
She's almost content to leave the subject be, but then there's that whole rank pulling thing (even in jest), which never sits well with someone so prickly about their pride as Cousland. Instead, that gets a sidelong measuring look, one corner of her mouth curling downwards, if only for the briefest of moments.
"Hmm. About that, actually... being dead and all, I'd daresay it's hardly fitting for a living Warden-Commander to go around flinging orders at little ol' me. You know. That finicky whole 'death by Archdemon, simultaneous assured destruction in a blaze of glory' fiasco. I'm afraid I answer to Duncan, and no other." Who just so happens to be dead and conveniently not here, thereby neatly absolving Cousland of all matters concerning the chain of command. She's quite good at shimmying out of conventional ranks when her sizeable ego is threatened.
The Warden lets that sink in for a moment or two, idly picking away at some tiny fleck of dust from her faulds prior to adding: "Might I humbly suggest asking nicely instead?"
...Well, she certainly put her foot in her mouth, didn't she?
It very much was meant jokingly, in a "that realization was too horrible a thought to take seriously" way. They are, despite having entirely different lives, in some ways the same person - they are both the Warden that survived Ostagar at Alistair's side and ended the Blight, at each other's mutual exclusion. The only difference was where Duncan happened to be at the time - that "string theory" once mentioned to her on the network.
"Sorry, no offense meant. It wasn't a serious order...would be strange, wouldn't it, ordering around someone who - somehow - occupies the same role in the same events?"
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snowblindmemes2016-08-14 08:47 pm
no subject
It's a damn shame her sword is nowhere to be found, or the house would have one less undead pest lurking under the floorboards.
"Seen any more of them around? They tend to travel in packs."
no subject
If she had even a suitable walking stick she'd prod the thing. Instead she watches the creature writhe under Cousland's boot and sits opposite her. It clearly is no longer a threat, and whatever's in there (just rage? She can't think of anything else so dumb) isn't trying to escape and go for her, so it can stay there until it works itself to pieces, for all she cared.
"Until now. I wonder if it has anything to do with...with the length of our recent obituaries. If the deaths that don't remain dead weaken the Veil all... the same..."
She seems to realize the horror of what it would mean about getting her magic back and grows more visibly disturbed by the second as she speaks.
"...Well, then. That's...certainly a thought. As your Warden-Commander, I am ordering you never to repeat that idea where any of our local unrepentant murderers can hear it. Maker forbid the green-haired one get it into his head to cause even more chaos somehow..."
no subject
very incompetentlytrying to eat her ankles."Demons are hardly the top of the food chain, all things considered. Knock enough teeth out of a Pride demon and the 'blood magic rituals complete with ominous chanting' starts getting a little mundane."
She's almost content to leave the subject be, but then there's that whole rank pulling thing (even in jest), which never sits well with someone so prickly about their pride as Cousland. Instead, that gets a sidelong measuring look, one corner of her mouth curling downwards, if only for the briefest of moments.
"Hmm. About that, actually... being dead and all, I'd daresay it's hardly fitting for a living Warden-Commander to go around flinging orders at little ol' me. You know. That finicky whole 'death by Archdemon, simultaneous assured destruction in a blaze of glory' fiasco. I'm afraid I answer to Duncan, and no other." Who just so happens to be dead and conveniently not here, thereby neatly absolving Cousland of all matters concerning the chain of command. She's quite good at shimmying out of conventional ranks when her sizeable ego is threatened.
The Warden lets that sink in for a moment or two, idly picking away at some tiny fleck of dust from her faulds prior to adding: "Might I humbly suggest asking nicely instead?"
no subject
It very much was meant jokingly, in a "that realization was too horrible a thought to take seriously" way. They are, despite having entirely different lives, in some ways the same person - they are both the Warden that survived Ostagar at Alistair's side and ended the Blight, at each other's mutual exclusion. The only difference was where Duncan happened to be at the time - that "string theory" once mentioned to her on the network.
"Sorry, no offense meant. It wasn't a serious order...would be strange, wouldn't it, ordering around someone who - somehow - occupies the same role in the same events?"