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.
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.”
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?"
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.
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.
"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.
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snowblindmemes2016-08-14 08:47 pm
no subject
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.”
no subject
"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?"
no subject
"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.
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.