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.
[And with reluctance, out comes the other hand. Rather, the complete lack of one, fabric of his jacket tucked and knotted closed midway up his forearm.
[Sigh. Fine, okay. He feels a little bad about being mean to the one-handed kid. And if he tries anything, Charles has several of his own knives close at hand. So, there.
He takes a step to his left and leans the hatchet against a tombstone, then steps back to where he started.]
[Like clockwork, the knife is immediately dropped down into the snowdrift at Lutha's feet, his hand moving up to tuck a thumb against his scarf and pull it down off his face. A clearer voice might settle things, and... well, might as well get all the pitying shocks out of the way, given how this promptly exposes the twisting web of scars framing his face.]
Right. [The field's a little more level now, and the more frantic bite of his voice dissipates in favor of bluntness. Maybe they could get back to business and keep the bloodshed to a minimum.
Speaking of which, though...]
You wanted to know how sharp the poker was, right?
[Well, alright, looks like this dude's had a rough time, either here or wherever he's from. Might explain some of his paranoia. Charles can relate. But that doesn't mean he's cool with everything.]
[With that, he shimmies the poker further up his back, appropriately point-up but not leaving its position, before he meticulously pulls his lone glove off with his teeth. The scarring on his hand is just as bad if not worse than what's on his face, but he doesn't pause for the sake of shame, instead promptly reaching behind him and slashing his palm across the poker's tip. Not deep, because what point would that prove? No, it's a glancing blow, enough to touch and slice a clean line of red that drips from the flesh of his hand as he holds it out for Charles to see.]
[Charles frowns a bit at the laugh. He wasn't exactly expecting Lutha to test the thing on himself, but he guesses it's like a bootlegger taking a sip of their own product before a sale. Ensuring that it is what you say it is. And also not poison.]
Well alright, I'll give you props on your sharpening skills. Little masochistic, but hey, that's your business.
[He knows it's his turn now. He shrugs off his backpack and sets it down, kneeling to pull out what he thinks is a fair three days' worth of cafeteria food. So, little frozen pizzas, tater tots, fruit cups. This kid doesn't look like he's from a modern world, maybe, but hopefully he knows what this stuff is. Charles pushes the stacks of items a little further from himself in the snow for Lutha to see.]
It's a little short on birds to pin to walls around here. I'd give you some better options otherwise.
[For the sake of not entertaining his company with his struggles, Lutha foregoes the attempts to get that glove back on in favor of just shoving it into his pocket, casually wiping the blood off onto the leg of his trousers as he watches Charles sort things out from his pack. Half of it he doesn't recognize, but he's been around long enough to know that if that artificial shiny covering is still wrapped around it, it means it hasn't been touched.
And thank every spirit alive, there's no mold in sight.
He steps forward enough to take a look, pulling the poker off his back long enough to use the handle to shift some things around and get a good idea of how much was there.]
This is fine. [It's disgustingly foreign, but if it's still edible, it's going to be enough. He can't do anything about the food or his pack with his hand so thoroughly occupied, so with the poker's handle still facing out, Lutha holds the weapon out to Charles.]
[This kid is assuming he could catch a bird in the first place. Either he's really that good or, more likely, he's full of shit. Whatever. Straightening up, Charles takes the poker handle and slides it out of Lutha's hand. He brings the pokey-end up to lay it across his right hand, the one with the missing finger. The poker is still a little bloody, but whatever. He wipes it off on his coat sleeve.]
[If he had his pistol, he could easily catch a bird for postmortem spearing. Details!
Charles' missing finger is noted but not given more than a passing glance as Lutha drops his practically empty pack to the snow, anchoring a balance against his bad arm while he bags the rations.]
Don't go dying overnight and dropping it somewhere. I spent a lot of time on that damn thing.
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snowblindmemes2016-08-14 08:47 pm
no subject
He gestures once more towards the axe.]
no subject
He takes a step to his left and leans the hatchet against a tombstone, then steps back to where he started.]
Your turn.
no subject
Right. [The field's a little more level now, and the more frantic bite of his voice dissipates in favor of bluntness. Maybe they could get back to business and keep the bloodshed to a minimum.
Speaking of which, though...]
You wanted to know how sharp the poker was, right?
no subject
That's not some kinda new threat, is it?
no subject
Who's the paranoid one here again?
Hold on.
[With that, he shimmies the poker further up his back, appropriately point-up but not leaving its position, before he meticulously pulls his lone glove off with his teeth. The scarring on his hand is just as bad if not worse than what's on his face, but he doesn't pause for the sake of shame, instead promptly reaching behind him and slashing his palm across the poker's tip. Not deep, because what point would that prove? No, it's a glancing blow, enough to touch and slice a clean line of red that drips from the flesh of his hand as he holds it out for Charles to see.]
no subject
Well alright, I'll give you props on your sharpening skills. Little masochistic, but hey, that's your business.
[He knows it's his turn now. He shrugs off his backpack and sets it down, kneeling to pull out what he thinks is a fair three days' worth of cafeteria food. So, little frozen pizzas, tater tots, fruit cups. This kid doesn't look like he's from a modern world, maybe, but hopefully he knows what this stuff is. Charles pushes the stacks of items a little further from himself in the snow for Lutha to see.]
no subject
[For the sake of not entertaining his company with his struggles, Lutha foregoes the attempts to get that glove back on in favor of just shoving it into his pocket, casually wiping the blood off onto the leg of his trousers as he watches Charles sort things out from his pack. Half of it he doesn't recognize, but he's been around long enough to know that if that artificial shiny covering is still wrapped around it, it means it hasn't been touched.
And thank every spirit alive, there's no mold in sight.
He steps forward enough to take a look, pulling the poker off his back long enough to use the handle to shift some things around and get a good idea of how much was there.]
This is fine. [It's disgustingly foreign, but if it's still edible, it's going to be enough. He can't do anything about the food or his pack with his hand so thoroughly occupied, so with the poker's handle still facing out, Lutha holds the weapon out to Charles.]
no subject
Looks good. You got yourself a deal.
no subject
Charles' missing finger is noted but not given more than a passing glance as Lutha drops his practically empty pack to the snow, anchoring a balance against his bad arm while he bags the rations.]
Don't go dying overnight and dropping it somewhere. I spent a lot of time on that damn thing.