Test Drive

[snowblindmods]

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: TIME TO CHECK WEBMD You've found the pharmacy, which is really convenient, since you're not feeling that great. Actually, you're feeling terrible. Maybe you have a fever, maybe you're coughing up blood, maybe you're vomiting... Whatever it is, you should probably try to get some medicine for it. Well, if you can figure out what it is. Maybe someone on the network can help you out? Alternately, you know exactly what you have--but for whatever reason, the medicine here isn't something you can easily understand. You have to choose between a couple of options, and you don't know the difference. Hopefully someone on the network can tell you which will heal you and which will probably kill you. TWO: NOT SO HELPFUL AVATARS Every tablet has the option for a customizable avatar that will talk to you and keep your tablet in order. Maybe you set it up, maybe you never checked it. Either way, it keeps popping up unrequested and being sort of... Odd. Flickering, talking in strange, mechanical voices, offering advice that's unhelpful at best and actively harmful at worst... Maybe it's even telling the entire network some things you've been doing you'd rather everyone didn't know. Time to call tech support. Unfortunately, the best option is other people on the network. Good luck. Action Prompts THREE: SCHOOL DAYS You've ended up in the elementary school. Maybe you're grabbing more food, maybe you're exploring. Either way, this place is creepy; the atmosphere is the sort that gets the hair on the back of your neck rising (potentially metaphorically, if you don't have hair or a neck). It's not long before strange things start happening. The sound of running and screaming children, doors slamming in far off or nearby hallways, pianos playing... What's going on? It's hard to tell what's really happening from what isn't happening. Maybe someone who's also exploring has some idea. FOUR: SUPPLY SCRAMBLE You've just walked into a house, and look, there's fresh fruit sitting right out on the counter! How long has it been since you've had some of that? It'll definitely help provide some much-needed vitamins and maybe it will ward off scurvy and the like. There's even more than one piece! ...And there's more than one person here, too. So, what are you going to do? Are you willing to share, or are you prepared to stab someone over a pear? Time to find out just how badly you want that food.

Comments

house you beautiful soul

[lancingintherain]

[oh no, he didn't. She snaps into a combat-ready stance and points her weapon at him in warning, baring her sharp teeth. Her tail lashes once, like the tail of an angry cat.]

[if she's a robot, she's a very well-articulated one. As for her being a fursuiter, her legs are jointed all wrong, and too sinewy for human legs to be hidden inside—unless she's half-furry and half-robot, which would be interesting. The possibilities are endless, really.]

Say that again, if you want a fight. I don't care if you have got a cane.

[rubikscomplex]

[Whatever she is, he kind of wants to yank on her tail. Her ears. As she's a wild animal waving something pointy at him, though, he relents on being an asshole for just a moment, one hand coming up in a 'stop' motion.]

Say what? What are you? People said there were creatures in here.

[Granted, if she were one of them, he'd probably already be dead. Good enough for a cover for now.]

[lancingintherain]

What am I? None of your business, that's what.

[but the snarl on her face starts to soften, and she lowers her weapon just a bit.]

But I'm not a rat. And I'm certainly not one of the creatures you were warned against. I'm a captive here, same as you are.

[she's never seen him before, but with what he's said, she figures that's a safe guess for now.]

[rubikscomplex]

[A furry kangaroo rat-thing who's embarrassed to exist. Well, he would be, too, if he looked like that.]

Same as me. You tell me what you are, I'll tell you who I am.

[He can bargain here. Because he does want to know. Like a burning. Hallucination is still high on the list. But maybe alien will work.]

[lancingintherain]

I'm hungry, mostly. And cold. Satisfied?

[she snorts softly and shakes her head. She'd given plenty of people before him a straight answer to that question, but she still feels offended enough to want to jerk him around a little.]

What's it to you, anyway?

[she finally lowers her weapon to her side all the way, her grip relaxing. That doesn't mean she's let her guard down, though. She glances at his cane; if he's got a sword hidden in that thing or something, she'll be ready. Also, incredibly jealous.]

[rubikscomplex]

I'm never satisfied. It's the human condition.

[There's a pointed emphasis on the word 'human.' Stuart Little's big sister is being a pain in the neck. He's being mildly cautious, though. Mainly because he doesn't have a blade in his cane. He'd be jealous of himself if he did, really.]

To me... [He goes to his pocket and pulls out his bottle of Vicodin, rattles it around and pops the lid.] It's the difference between whether I take one or two of these right now. [He needs to know how not sober he wants to be for this conversation.]

[lancingintherain]

[at the sound of rattling pills, her eyes go wide, and she takes a step towards him.]

Is that medicine? Where did you—

[suddenly a door slams in a hallway not too far away, and she freezes,one ear turning towards the sound.]

Oh, I don't have time for this. Very well: I'm a Burmecian. [anticlimactic? Yes.] And you're a human, but we'll both be sitting ducks if we don't keep moving.

[She raises her weapon again, but not towards him this time; she uses it to point down one branching corridor.]

[rubikscomplex]

[Apparently, it's a two pill kind of conversation. House jolts at the slamming door and quickly dry-swallows a pair of pills before pocketing the bottle once more.]

Ah, the good people of Burmecia, right next door to Eriador.

[Fictional places for the fictional rat. She's looking pretty real still, though, and she does have a weapon.]

After you, Hop Along. [Testing the waters on how flippant he can be while she's distracted.] I'm not the one with a death stick if we run into trouble. Is there a reason this place is all about the 'keep moving' thing? I've heard that more than once.

[lancingintherain]

[she grits her teeth at the nickname, and clenches the brim of her hat in her fist, but starts walking down the corridor. Turning her back to him makes her feel uneasy, and she glances back at him to make sure he's following—and to see what his pace is like.]

It isn't safe to stay in some places for too long. And not only because of the creatures.

[she pauses, like she's going to say more, but instead, she looks at him especially suspiciously and asks:]

What are those pills you've got?

[rubikscomplex]

[His pace is shuffling. He's a guy with a cane, and he's making use of it. If he's playing it up a little more than he might usually, that's only because she looks like she's ready to turn on him if he sneezes wrong and he'd rather keep some distance.]

Vicodin.

[And she probably has no idea what that is, so he'll leave it there.]

What other reasons are there apart from the 'creatures.'

[lancingintherain]

[she repeats "Vicodin" under her breath, trying to remember if she's heard that strange word before, but puts further questions about his pill habit on pause for now.]

Some places make you see things, if you linger in them. Nobody can say why. It could be magic, or ghosts, or something in the air...

[she settles her hat back on her head, and takes a piece of origami paper out of her coat pocket. There's a cherry blossom pattern on one side, but she glances at something drawn on the other side and tucks it away again.]

Cursed, haunted, or poisoned: none of them sound appealing. It's best to not tempt fate more than we must.

[rubikscomplex]

You do know there's no such thing as magic. Or ghosts.

[Granted, he's saying this to a giant talking rat, but he can make allowances for some sort of highly secretive government experiments.]

Stress-induced hallucinations with sympathetic nervous system reactions I'll buy.

[He'd been hoping the Vicodin might remove her as some sort of stress-induced hallucination.]

[lancingintherain]

["no such thing as magic". She throws him a look over her shoulder like he's just said he doesn't believe in breathing air]

What? ...Although you're not wrong about stress. And nervousness. It's not a pleasant town, this one.

[there's a set of closed double doors at the end of the hall. She heads towards them without leaving him behind, listening carefully around them and trying not to feel too irritated by how slow he is. He can't help it.]

[rubikscomplex]

[He could be going faster. He can typically keep up with a regular walking pace. When he wants to. It's for the best to be underestimated in these things, though.]

Magic. It's not real. I'm sure you saw an 'impossible' trick once. Trust me. There's always a trick.

[House knows a few of them. But there are doors to attend to. And the sudden, very loud sound of the piano going off behind the door.]

Music room. [He drops some of the sarcasm.] Wonder who's playing.

[lancingintherain]

Not real? What are you talking about; of course its—

[but she's interrupted by some spooky piano playing, right on schedule. She holds out an arm to tell House to stay back, and edges towards the nearest spooky piano-free door. She lowers her voice to a tense whisper.]

Stay behind me. Move back—quietly, and we won't have to find out who's playing.

[she steps back towards House and the other door, and nods to it without taking her eyes from the doors to Piano Zone.]

Is that door locked? There ought to be a stairwell close by...

[rubikscomplex]

[He'll let the magic discussion go for right now, pitching his voice a bit lower. There will be time to pick apart her views and what she is later.]

No sense of adventure, Hop Along? [Good. He doesn't have much of one right now, either, as he follows her instruction as well as he can. The door is, thankfully, unlocked and opens up onto what looks like some kind of mini-auditorium with dilapidated risers and music stands. There's another door on the far side of the room with an EXIT sign over it.]

If we do hit stairs, I'll be getting a lot less quiet. Nothing personal, but they're a bitch. [And he tends to clatter.]

[lancingintherain]

[once they've got another door between themselves and whatever's lurking outside practicing the piano, she straightens up and lets her voice rise above a whisper. She scans the room for anything unpleasant, her ears turning this way and that. Flatly:]

If they're too difficult, I could probably carry you. And stop calling me that; my name isn't "Hop Along". It's Freya.

[she takes out her piece of paper. There's a map drawn on it, but it isn't detailed, and she looks frustrated when she pockets it again. Thick dust muffles their footsteps; the only music that's been made in this room lately is the draft blowing through the risers.]

Have you got a name, or should I make one up for you?

[rubikscomplex]

[Now that she's told him to stop, he's probably not going to. It's much too tempting, and she's been tolerating it.]

Hop Along Freya. Got it. Also, the carrying thing? That's not happening. [That last part, at least, is returned just as flatly.] I don't take rides from chicks. Not that kind of ride. [A small pause.] Or any kind of ride when they've got more hair than me. Furries aren't my thing.

[House makes note of the map, curious, but doesn't ask quite yet. It's obviously nothing useful in here, but maybe something for the wider world. He's grateful for the dust as the move along.]

And people call me Strider, the Dúnadan. [Sure. Why not? If he's going to dick around with her, might as well make it cool and ironic.]

[lancingintherain]

[she stops short and whirls around to face him, her eyes bright and her teeth bared. Her voice is low for stealth's sake, but full of indignant fury.]

Why, you—how dare you! And when I'm trying to help you, too, you—you old—!

[she struggles for adequate words, then gives up, and takes a deep breath to force herself to calm down. It sort of works. She glares at him.]

I could leave you behind, you know. I could.

[she couldn't, and she knows it.]

your icons and keywords are perfect

[rubikscomplex]

'Bastard' is the word you're looking for. [He's eying her levelly, voice still low, trying to assess just how honest that threat is. They'd started this encounter with her pointing a weapon at him, after all.] 'Ass' is another one I get a lot. 'Goat' seems more your style, though.

So, why aren't you leaving me behind right now? I'm a liability. No weapons, slow, new. I know you don't like me. You don't even know if I'm useful. You make a habit out of helping anyone you run across?

OMFG thank you

[lancingintherain]

[the answer to his last question is definitely "yes", but she ignores that in favor of Staying Mad, and snaps:]

Well—who says you aren't useful? You'd make a fine distraction. Anything comes after us, it'd catch you first.

[the satisfaction of saying something really mean gets washed away immediately by a rush of deep shame, but she tries to not let that show on her face. It's not a successful try; she shrinks back from him a little bit, like she's lost some of her nerve.]

[rubikscomplex]

[Afraid to be mean? House smirks. Well, then. That makes this easier. He starts moving forward, heading around her and shuffling toward the exit. The prospect of putting his back to her is suddenly much less worrying. At least for some reasons. He still wants to know what she is. It's disturbing.]

Nah. You're too much of a goody two-shoes to let that happen. So, what'd you do back in 'Burmecia?' I'm guessing security the way you're waving that stick around. [And the way she'd been so careful with her movements, keeping herself between him and the doors with the music out in the corridor. Paranoid security, but probably some kind of fighter, at the very least. She's twitchy in the right ways, rather than just twitchy.]

[lancingintherain]

[she stands still and lets him move in front of her, grinding her teeth indignantly at "goody-two-shoes" but unable to actually argue that.]

I am a knight—[putting emphasis on the present tense, because being contrary about minor grammar points is the only way to keep arguing]—sworn to the service of my King.

[of course, repeating that doesn't make her King any less dead, but that's more of a recent thing and, anyway, the principle still stands.]

...If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?

[rubikscomplex]

Sir Hop Along Freya. Well, you should have said sooner. That makes all the difference. [The room feels wider than he'd thought it was, though maybe that's just her being irritating, making the trip across the dusty floor feel longer.]

Sure, though. I love getting to know you games. Good ice-breaker. [He hasn't said he'd answer them honestly, but she hasn't asked for that, either.]

[lancingintherain]

[he's not the only one having Room Problems. As she falls in behind him, she thinks she hears something lightly brush against the music stands, but when she glances back, she doesn't see anything. At least they're almost to the Exit sign.]

You're—you're insufferable. Well—all right, then it's my turn. What were those pills you took? Vica... Vi-whatever-you-called-them. What are they for?

[if he took some kind of weird drug while she has to look after him she swears to god]