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: IT WON'T BE LONG NOW... Well, you made a mistake. You spent too long searching around, or you ran outside near the end of the day for just one more thing, and now you've been locked out. You can search around all you want, but the best shelter you can hope for is pressing against the side of a sealed up building. You do still have your tablet, though. Maybe someone on the network can give you some advice, or at least some comfort while you wait for hypothermia to set in.
TWO: CABIN FEVER Maybe you didn't want that mistake of getting caught outside to happen again, but now you've ended up staying too long in one location, and cabin fever has set in. Maybe you're taking to the network to try and ignore the hallucinations. Maybe you want to tell everyone that you've figured out they're all in on your kidnapping. Maybe you ended up wandering off and now you'd really like to know if anyone can check back in the place you were at for your pants.
Action Prompts
THREE: AN UNEXPECTED MEETING You're going about your business searching what seems like it might be an especially promising house--it's fully intact and there's even a working fireplace with some wood! It looks like someone else has the same idea, though, and you've run into them in the middle of your search. Do you share the potential wealth or try to kick them out? On the other hand, maybe you know who this is, or maybe you're just glad to actually see another person for the first time in ages.
FOUR: GOOD MORGUE-NING You've just woken up in a morgue after dying in one unfortunate way or another. You have no idea where you are beyond that, but your tablet is insisting you can't stay here, so you should probably get out of here pretty quickly. Of course, bringing people back from the dead isn't a perfect science, so you're missing something important to you. Maybe you've lost your voice, maybe you can't remember where you're from, maybe you can't remember where you are right now. It looks like someone else is nearby, though. Maybe they can help you out?
[ Because she may have set hers in a moment of nostalgia and/or spite. Either way, she's now deeply regretting it. Also: stuck in a cabin, feeling a little claustrophobic, everything's awful, etc.
Complaining about it on the network isn't going to solve anything; not when they can hardly step foot outside without freezing to death. ]
ACTION (THREE)
[ She hardly recognizes the sound of fire crackling, at first. When she turns a corner and sees the light, there's a jump of excitement in her chest that no amount of pessimism can crush. Clarke approaches the hearth without hesitation, squatting down in front of it and dragging her ragged gloves off to hold bare skin up towards the flames.
It's easy to get lost in that warmth, but the reprieve doesn't last long. The sound of footsteps brings her to her feet, quick, pale gaze snapping to the nearby doorway. ]
Who's there?
[ Her voice is steady and commanding, though it's carefully stripped of hostility. ]
[ There are very few other people whose voice would prompt Lexa to lower the knife she found elsewhere in the house, where she's been searching for anything she can utilize. Much of its contents have been stripped already. She is practical, carries light, so she does not take anything just for the sake of having it. The knife, the fire, a heavy blanket draped over one shoulder like a cape: this is her bounty. This, and: ]
Clarke.
[ Not a question, but there's wonderment she can't keep out of her voice. Lexa steps forward into the golden crackle of firelight, relief clear in her eyes. Her fingers shift on the lowered blade, the only sign that there's nerves there, too, beneath the simple gladness of seeing someone she knows and the more ingrained gratefulness at seeing anyone at all. To go from the kind of community she had to this isolated survival has been harder than she would have expected of herself. ]
[ Her relief's more uncertain, but it's still there, written in the way the name comes out on a heavy exhale that takes some of the tension from her stance. Clarke takes only a moment to reassess the situation before she steps forward, closing the distance between them and placing a hand — still bare, and still warmed from the fire — on Lexa's shoulder.
The gesture's easy, comfortable. It speaks volumes that her words don't. ]
How long have you been here?
[ A simple question, in theory. She's not sure she can even answer it; she's hoping Lexa might've had better luck with telling time without a clear view of the sun. ]
[ The last time they spoke she had thought Clarke might never forgive her for putting her people first, even if Lexa still believes she did what was necessary. The touch to her shoulder says otherwise. Clarke's hand is only barely warm through the thin cloth, but Lexa feels heat spreading down to her gut, her fingers tingling a little, and she can't help but smile just a little, more with her eyes than her mouth. No surprise, though. Clarke is a leader like her: it seems natural that she should, in the end, come to understand.
Besides, all that is put behind them. Neither the sky people or her clans are here, just snow and occasional strangers, squatting in what abandoned houses have not yet been lost to time or weather, the way the Grounders once did, before they learned to survive on their own. Lexa means to learn to survive this snow, too — but she's not there yet. ]
I don't know.
[ Echoing Clarke's thoughts accidentally, but for different reasons. She's been measuring time by the familiar rhythms of her body, the length of her paces, a knowledge deep in her bones. "Night" is locked doors and killer cold, not darkness. But she has missing time, lost hours, and she can't be specific. ]
[The response is equally steady, voice soft and lighter than one would expect from someone of Enoch's build. He emerges from the kitchen where he'd been looking for food and heads for the fire, himself, lowering himself to his knees.]
I admit, part of me hoped the fire would draw others. This is a very lonely place.
[He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. His bulk is a little intimidating but he's not out for fights.]
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snowblindmemes2015-05-12 07:10 am
clarke griffin | the 100
[ id reads: princess ]
how do you change your network ID?
[ Because she may have set hers in a moment of nostalgia and/or spite. Either way, she's now deeply regretting it. Also: stuck in a cabin, feeling a little claustrophobic, everything's awful, etc.
Complaining about it on the network isn't going to solve anything; not when they can hardly step foot outside without freezing to death. ]
ACTION (THREE)
[ She hardly recognizes the sound of fire crackling, at first. When she turns a corner and sees the light, there's a jump of excitement in her chest that no amount of pessimism can crush. Clarke approaches the hearth without hesitation, squatting down in front of it and dragging her ragged gloves off to hold bare skin up towards the flames.
It's easy to get lost in that warmth, but the reprieve doesn't last long. The sound of footsteps brings her to her feet, quick, pale gaze snapping to the nearby doorway. ]
Who's there?
[ Her voice is steady and commanding, though it's carefully stripped of hostility. ]
network
no subject
Maybe that's why I want to change it.
no subject
no subject
If I was going to nurture a nascent identity crisis, it would've been in solitary.
[ Which this... sort of is. ]
Where are you?
no subject
[ get it? get it ?? ? ]
Getting my bearings, scoping the place out. You?
no subject
Sitting in my room so I don't get locked out.
You should be careful. It'll be dark soon.
[ Darkish. Snow's weird like that. ]
I always wanted to see snow.
no subject
Clarke.
[ Not a question, but there's wonderment she can't keep out of her voice. Lexa steps forward into the golden crackle of firelight, relief clear in her eyes. Her fingers shift on the lowered blade, the only sign that there's nerves there, too, beneath the simple gladness of seeing someone she knows and the more ingrained gratefulness at seeing anyone at all. To go from the kind of community she had to this isolated survival has been harder than she would have expected of herself. ]
no subject
[ Her relief's more uncertain, but it's still there, written in the way the name comes out on a heavy exhale that takes some of the tension from her stance. Clarke takes only a moment to reassess the situation before she steps forward, closing the distance between them and placing a hand — still bare, and still warmed from the fire — on Lexa's shoulder.
The gesture's easy, comfortable. It speaks volumes that her words don't. ]
How long have you been here?
[ A simple question, in theory. She's not sure she can even answer it; she's hoping Lexa might've had better luck with telling time without a clear view of the sun. ]
no subject
Besides, all that is put behind them. Neither the sky people or her clans are here, just snow and occasional strangers, squatting in what abandoned houses have not yet been lost to time or weather, the way the Grounders once did, before they learned to survive on their own. Lexa means to learn to survive this snow, too — but she's not there yet. ]
I don't know.
[ Echoing Clarke's thoughts accidentally, but for different reasons. She's been measuring time by the familiar rhythms of her body, the length of her paces, a knowledge deep in her bones. "Night" is locked doors and killer cold, not darkness. But she has missing time, lost hours, and she can't be specific. ]
Two weeks, I think.
network.
You can't.
It probably suits you.
network.
Does yours?
no subject
Duh it does.
no subject
no subject
no subject
That isn't your real name, is it?
no subject
My name is Rose. I'm also Ravager.
no subject
Rose sounds almost as nice as Princess.
[ Just saying. ]
My name is Clarke, by the way.
no subject
Roses have thorns. By the way.
no subject
[ Things that weren't essential to space ecosystems: roses. ]
They also need the sun, don't they? When's the last time you saw it?
no subject
Here, or back home?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
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no subject
let me guess, sarcastic network id? i got one too.
no subject
Barbie?
no subject
Three
[The response is equally steady, voice soft and lighter than one would expect from someone of Enoch's build. He emerges from the kitchen where he'd been looking for food and heads for the fire, himself, lowering himself to his knees.]
I admit, part of me hoped the fire would draw others. This is a very lonely place.
[He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. His bulk is a little intimidating but he's not out for fights.]
My name is Enoch.