snowblindmemes | Test Drive

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test drive

Test Drive


TEST DRIVE MEME
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: DISTORTION Something is wrong with the video feed. You're not sure what it is, but it seems that whenever anyone tries to post to the Network using video, their faces warp and distort like they're being ripped through with static. Odd, since it's only the people who show up blurry, and not the surroundings. Maybe you want to test it out with more people to see if everyone is experiencing the same problem, or maybe you just want to toss theories around about what the issue might be, but either way you turn to the Network for answers. Fortunately, the text and audio features are working normally, so you can still have conversations with the others without any problems. TWO: STRAIGHT TO DETENTION You had to head to the school in order to grab some more rations, but before you head out for the day you decide to explore around a little more. You've heard that people have had success in the past connecting with the Prophet here, so you head to Samantha's classroom and sit at her desk. When you speak up, though, trying to make contact, it's not the Prophet who answers. Instead, you hear the sound of a sharp crack and there's a sting on the back of your hands, like you've been whacked by a ruler. Raise your hand! If you don't follow classroom rules, I'll have to give you detention. A shadow flicks behind you, the looming outline of the teacher that reprimanded you disappears before you can get a good look. The problem? You can't seem to find the exit to the classroom. Your sense of direction warps every time you get to where it should be, causing you to become disoriented and turned around. The neatly-lined desks suddenly seem to form a maze. If you want to skip detention, you may need a little help from the Network. Maybe someone can guide you out. Action Prompts THREE: NO SOLICITING You're running out of time. You finally found a building you can stay in for the night...but it seems that someone else has found it first. And this someone else appears, for whatever reason, unhappy with the idea of letting you in to share the space. You know there's plenty of room for the both of you, and you don't have enough time to duck into another building for safety. You keep glancing nervously at the time on your tablet. It's cold, and you don't have much more time to argue before you're stuck out here. If talking isn't going to get you much farther, maybe you can offer something that will make it worth their while. Or maybe you can even force the issue. You probably have something on you that you can use as a weapon if you're not confident that your own strength will do the trick. FOUR: HOUSE AT THE END OF THE LANE The house that you and your traveling companion have stumbled across has seen better days. As soon as you step through the door, it's easy to see what's happened. Everything has blackened and burned--every object and decoration charred to oblivion, a snapshot of some family's unwitting last moment together. The only proof that it had ever been occupied at all is the creamy white silhouettes that light up the kitchen wall: the perfect outline of a mother, father, and young child holding hands as they pray together before the meal they'd never eat. Maybe you can still find some useful items stowed away inside the cupboards.

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A - Network Prompt: Distortion

The tablet he'd found, upon waking, had been thoroughly inspected both in terms of hardware and available software. The hardware examination hadn't been an issue, but the software had proven decidedly more ... challenging.

Harold had started out seated but his chronic injuries had reacted badly to the prevalent cold and he'd soon decided that standing and moving was better than letting his muscles seize up. So he continued to walk and poke at the tablet, eventually sniffing around the network programming.

"That doesn't seen right," he muttered to himself. Frowning, he tried a couple more tests, coming up blank before eventually accepting that he was going to have to actually open and try using the application.

It wasn't what he wanted to do. He wanted to determine if Mr. Reese was around, or possibly Root ... Shaw ... hell even Fusco or Bear would be a comfort. But in the hours since he woke, Finch was getting the sense that he was on his own. At least for now.

Scanning the network, he frowned as he noticed the anomaly. The way the software appeared to be glitching on it's focus. It did offer a small benefit, if his own face was obscured, even as it proved frustrating for collecting data on any others using this network.

A little more digging, suggested he should be able to utilize audio, which was rather his wheelhouse to begin with, so Harold eventually established a connection to an open network line.

Audio:

"Hello? I've been attempting to run a diagnostic of the network, and my scan of the network suggests there are other users logged in. If you are, could you tell me if the apparent glitch in the video function of this application is systemic or only affecting certain users?"

His voice was post, clipped and direct. Forget any of the usual politeness of names or 'where are we' type inquiries, it was straight to business.

Action Prompt - House at the End of the Lane:

Despite the benefits of years spent being gently harassed by John and even Shaw to maintain an exercise routine, designed to maximize his otherwise limited mobility, Harold was finding moving around this strange new world to be a challenge. He'd left his previous bolt hole with some reluctance but a resignation to fate and the need to keep moving. While physically he wasn't well equipped to up stakes at the drop of a hat, mentally he'd lived the life for so long he fell into the habit naturally.

Still but the time he'd spotted the shelter down at the end of the lane, he was physically in trouble and in no position to quibble with whoever had come to his aid.

Pushing through the door, Harold practically collapsed just inside the door, dropping his knapsack as he leaned heavily against the wall.

"Thank you," he offered the gratitude to who ever had just helped him get out of the elements and into the house, eyes gradually adjusting to the interior light.

Which may not have been a blessing in this case.

As his eyes traveled the charred scene, Harold scrabbled to regain his balance, upright, stumbling to turn a full circle as he studied the destruction, before coming to rest on the silhouettes on the kitchen wall.

"Oh my God," he breathed, stepping towards that area of the house. "What happened here?"

[ooc: Hello! Two quick disclaimers.

1) I am not a coding genius, or even a coding semi-genius. I will be relying upon my google-fu and the joy of vague mumbo jumbo.

2) Right now I only have the 1 icon. ]

Right now it looks like it's everyone.

[ The girl on the other end of the call sounds young and very, very tired. She's been here a long ass time. ]

I haven't seen your username before, you must be new.

Hello!

[ If he sounds a little excited, it's because he is relieved to have someone answer. ]

Yes, ah I woke up, here a few hours ago. [ More than a few but Finch is so used to blurring the lines of exact truths, when it comes to strangers, it's just habit for him now. ]

It's systemic then. Does this happen often?

Welcome to Snow Hell, then.

Weird distortions on the network is unfortunately pretty common. It's not usually across the board, but it's not unheard of.

[ Snow Hell? ]

Quaint.

[ Why comment is wry. ]

What sort of distortions?

We do try.

People will go all staticky, or their voices will, or both. Sometimes we'll see things that aren't there, or not see things that are. That sort of thing. It's not as bad on the tablets as it is when it happens in real life.

Not the most reassuring news I've heard, but then I don't believe I've heard any reassuring news since I arrived.

Has anyone investigated the signal tow ... [ Harold began to ask his question, paused and amended it slightly. ] Is there a signal tower?

If there is one, we haven't found it. It's probably all underground, though. We don't have access to anything useful, generally.

That's ... disappointing.

[ He drummed his fingers at the edge of the tablet, in a pensive manner. He shouldn't have to have physical access, unless the tower was locked to a command console.

Stephanie might hear the sound of rapid typing, before he spoke again. ]

What do you define as useful?

Anything that can be used to gain information, keep you warm, fend off an attack or sustain you nutritionally.

I. Distortion @nijedha
[After a few hours of tinkering with his tablet, Bodhi has come to the conclusion that it isn't the devices that are acting up. He had recorded himself to test as well, but it's not the devices. It's the Network. He's sure of it. Well. He's as sure of it as he's ever sure of anything.

He starts up a video post of his own after his tinkering, lips chapped and static face hard to read.]

There's a bug in the system. I'm not good with that. I can do some things first-hand. Fix the device if it's acting up sometimes. At least, I can take it apart and try to find the problem. But this isn't in the device. At least... I don't... I don't think it is.

It seems like a transmission problem. Can you hear me alright? Is the audio still working? Hello?

III. No Soliciting.

[His fingers were numb, his goggles pulled down over his eyes for protection and his hands shoved into his pockets. He was nervous, jumpy, and even coming from a cold desert, he wasn't ready for the temperatures.

His teeth chattered noisily as he slipped into the building. His nerves were raw, and he was still jumpy enough to nearly come out of his skin when he heard the second person in the building with him.

He didn't have a weapon, and he wasn't sure he would use it if he did. He wasn't a soldier. He was a pilot. A cargo pilot who hadn't enjoyed what conflict he had scene and wasn't looking for more.

He pressed himself into the wall and walked along it, trying to avoid his company for the moment.]

We don't have to make this a fight. I'll stay out of your way.

IV. House at the End of the Lane

[He nearly lost what little he had in his stomach at the sight that greeted them in the kitchen. It felt like he was walking through the streets of NiJedha after the blast from the planetkiller had ripped the holy city apart. Except he knew there were no streets left. Not even outlines like this remained of the people he had grown up around, gambled with, and gone through the never easy life of an oppressed city with.

Still. The sight brought back memories, disjointed, unclear, and confusing, but painful all the same. He forced himself to tear his eyes away, fumbling with the cupboards and searching for anything not burned to a crisp. A can or a box of food, some scrap of something edible, even towels or fabric he could use to stuff his worn and thinning clothing with.]

[ Steph is having one of those crying spells that people are liable to have when they've been trapped in a snowy hell for 9 months and the person they love the most died a month ago and still hasn't come back. She wipes her eyes furiously before turning to glare daggers at the intruder.

But then he has to look so scared and pathetic, and she rolls her eyes before pulling out her tablet to check the time. She's been here hours already, got comfortable, even dumped out the various pillows, towels, thin sheets and stuffed animals she carries with her to make her usual bed-nest. ]

I'm not gonna fight you. It's too late for you to find another place tonight anyway.

[ So in short, the details usually handled by Mr. Reese.

Wonderful. ]

Are things that dire here?

Oh, it's way more dire than just that. We're also on a countdown being hounded by monsters that can kill us with a touch.

[He's used to being glared at. He takes it, keeping his back against the wall and averting his eyes after a moment. Irritated though she sounds, she isn't kicking him back out into the snow, and that is enough for now. He mutters a low thank you and keeps moving away from her toward the edge of the kitchen.

Bodhi pulls off his boots, carrying them toward the tile floor and tugging a towel out of his sleeve. He's quiet as he wipes the snow off the boots and into a pot he had been carrying with him, strapped to his back. Once the snow is off the shoes he sets them upside down on the tile and slumps in the kitchen doorway, his back against the frame and his knees drawn up to his chest to conserve warmth. He shakes his snow-covered hat out as well and tucks his hands into the opposite sleeves, trying to keep every part of him as warm as possible.]

I'm sorry. [He offers, a little louder after a moment, staring at the snow in the pot in front of him.] I didn't see any tracks. I didn't know anyone else was in here.

[ She spends this quiet time wiping at her face and trying very hard to stop crying. She just wants a little time alone, is that so much to ask?

Her voice is a little congested when she answers him. ]

I got here early afternoon, it's been snowing a lot.

A - Network Prompt: Straight to Detention

[Johnny wasn't a person who needed to eat much. The thin frame of his body attested to that, considering the man was little more than whipcord muscle at this point, a frame made entirely of sharp edges. He despised the flesh, the weak frame of his body. There was nothing Nny could say he liked about people - or particularly himself - but bodies and everything that came with the idea of the body and its maintenance he particularly despised. It would be better to let it waste away, be dust, be nothing.

Not that that didn't mean he couldn't eat. He was rather peckish at the moment, after all, which is what had brought him to the school. Not that this plan had gone particularly well. If he wasn't getting assaulted by ghostly assholes, it was this classroom becoming a Danielewski novel. Nny was used to his sense of reality shattering, becoming something else. Who was to say what was real or wasn't at this point, really. Perhaps he had always been in this classroom, just hadn't realized that.

Much fun as it would be to prattle on that, he'd really rather get the fuck out of here. And as much as he hates the idea of talking to the people on the Network, he doesn't have many other options.]

What the fuck is this classroom's problem?

[He attaches a picture of the classroom to the text message. He refuses to use voice or video when he goes on the network. Refuses letting that many people see or hear him.]

I've been trying to get out of here for a hour. I'll admit that I don't have the best sense of direction, but I don't think a fucking classroom should be tripping me up this badly. It's like some tween's idea of a nightmare, the idea of a classroom spreading into infinity and no matter how far you'll go you'll just end up back in the same shithole where assholes with acne problems and brains the size of pea pods scramble to be king of dipshit mountain in proving their alpha males.

I could make some quirky little comment about how school never ends, but that's immensely blaise. I will cut the tongue out of the first five people who make some kind of joke like that to me, and have you tell your joke again and record it for prosperity. It'll be funniest way to tell that joke.

I'll laugh at least.

B - Action Prompt: House at the End of the Lane

[The scavenger life is one that Nny is accustomed to. It's one he hates, but he could understand it. It was just that here he didn't scrounge by by looting the corpses of the assholes who dared to cross him, to mock him, to try and lessen his already fragile existence.

In a weird way, he could at least appreciate the decor of this world, if it really was real and not some elaborate dream his mind had made up for him. Johnny didn't doubt that a place like this is something his mind could concoct, would think up. Saying he enjoyed it would be inaccurate; but saying he understood the ugly truth this place represented, well.

That was closer to how he felt.

Taking a can of...beets? Carrots, maybe? Johnny isn't sure. Some food that comes in a can with a picture that looks like it might be a vegetable. Food, of a type. It's his now, whatever it is, though he probably shouldn't be ungrateful.

He goes out the outline of the family, shaking the can a bit.]

Hey. It doesn't seem like you're using this right now. Or ever, heh. ...You mind if I take it?

[He looks around, quietly, at the charred ruins that was once a home.]

Nice place. It's very, uh. Apocalyptic in decor.

[Coco is going to just ignore the tongue comment because that feels like a can of worms she doesn't want to really deal with right now.]

Do you need help getting out of that class room still? I'm headed towards the school now, so I could yell from the doorway to direct you.

Edited 2017-07-20 05:38 (UTC)

Screaming would work as well as screaming into an Escher painting probably. You'd have to have a mind so screwed, so completely fucked that the basic idea of the world could fall away for you as you work your way through the abstract impossibility that is actual existence.

Actually. Yeah.

Screaming is probably a good idea now that I think about it.

Edited 2017-07-20 05:47 (UTC)

If I stick to the doorway, it's less likely I'll get pulled into whatever illusion is disorienting you in there. So yeah, screaming or yelling would probably be a good plan for now. If that doesn't work I'll improvise something.

There has to be some radius effect to whatever is in there that only affected you when you got so far into the room.

[ONE - Network Distortion]

[An audio feed clicks to life, the voice in question belonging to a small bandicoot. She at best sounds twelve years old and immensely curious.]

Okay, I'm assuming everyone else is getting the weird face glitch too? Has anyone tested out how it works beyond blurring out one face? Will it distort a lot of faces in one area? Will holding up a picture of a face do the same thing? Is there a face recognition software programmed into the network? Do you think a mask would trip it up?

I'm trying to work on making a mask to try out the last question since I found some junk paper laying around and am kinda stuck for now.

[THREE - No soliciting]

[Coco for her part is staying farther away from the other person in question, hunched in her slightly too big jacket. She has a frown settled on her lips, muzzle scrunched up slightly. Being a mutant bandicoot means she's getting used to the weird looks from people around here.] Look, I'm not going to bother you or anything. I just want to sleep okay? I'm tired, I can tell you're tired, lets just... relax.

[An idea strikes her as she settles down a little more. The twelve year old perks up slightly, glancing at the other person with a toothy smile.] Here- I have something we could share, food I mean. Even if you don't eat it now, I'm okay with sharing half of it with you.

Edited 2017-07-20 06:10 (UTC)

What if the room didn't exist until I entered it?

What if nothing outside it can affect it?

What if it just is?

If it didn't exist then, it does now. So I can do something about it.

We can figure it out as we go. Making any long term plans here is kinda impossible at times.

I wouldn't be so sure of that.

[After all, what if it existed for just him? Was affected just by him and only had meaning for him, a final trap built by his mind.]

They're worthless anywhere. You could have a life entirely on track, and all it takes to unwind it is a man swinging a dog like a baseball bat at your face because, unfortunately, its hard to find bludgeoning objects on the street.

Random action is really the only way to go. So go for it! Shout your lungs out!

Maybe this place will spit me out finally.

[Finally she has to ask.] Do you usually think about hitting people or cutting out tongues or is this just a thing for you here?

I'd say be annoying as possible if the room is actually alive and aware enough to keep you there, but I'd rather you not get hurt if it reacts poorly.

Edited 2017-07-20 06:39 (UTC)

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Page 1 of 8

Test Drive

Harold Finch | Person of Interest

A - @Spoiler; audio

@Finch; audio

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audio

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Bodhi Rook | Star Wars

III.

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Johnny C./Nny | Johnny the Homicidal Maniac

A

Re: A

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Coco Bandicoot | Crash Bandicoot

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