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: 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?

Comments

Will Graham | Hannibal

[reimagines]

TWO ; network text

[ Will isn't a stranger to hallucinations, not by a long stretch. And while he's used to them, used to turning a blind eye and focusing his attention elsewhere, it's getting more and more difficult in this tiny, enclosed space of the cabin. At least in the cell he had something to focus all his thoughts on. He had an end goal in that cell, a victory condition: implicate and kill Hannibal.

Here, though, he isn't sure what his goal is. There's no lofty, noble one. Just primal instinct: survive the night and try not to go crazy. Try.

He opts to give the network a go when he starts seeing the wendigo creeping in the corners of his vision. Whenever he glances at the black, antlered figure, it stops moving. Look away and it creeps again, closer and closer. He would consider a staring contest if he were less stable. Right now, though, he knows it's not real. Just a figment of his imagination. An inconvenience. That's if this place doesn't suddenly manifest your thoughts into life, which isn't such an absurd thing to consider with the eerie, uneasy feeling blanketing everything here. ]

Would it be safe to assume that the cold is the only thing that needs worrying about here?

THREE ; action

He felt right at home in this cabin, mostly because it resembled his humble little home. Being surrounded by snow wasn't exactly unfamiliar, either, but the snow here had such a biting, lethal quality to it. It chilled him more than the usual winters he experienced did, and the snowfall and accompanying gusts of wind felt sinister somehow. Will had exactly zero inclination to brave the weather outside now that he had found solace in this shelter, and besides, it was getting to nightfall, anyway. Going outside under these conditions would be a death sentence.

He had managed to start and stoke a fire, and had even managed to find a few blankets tucked away in a drawer, one of which he was now repurposing as a rug in front of the fire, and the other was draped around his shoulders. It was a shame none of the strays were here. Winston, in particular. Huddling for body warmth was a fairly good idea, but he supposed he would have to make do on his own. Perhaps the long winters in his cabin had only been bearable due to the flurry of activity and warmth that all the dogs brought with them.

He fed the fire another log, watching it grow in size as he sat back, steel poker in hand.

3

[simtech]

It had been a stupid idea to wander about in the snow. Warrick blamed the stupidity entirely on whatever flight of imaginative fancy had persuaded him that he'd heard something besides the howl of wind that had persisted for the past few days. A voice. Someone calling out. A connection to someone or something real - besides him - that existed in this void of white. He'd wanted it badly enough to trek out into the blinding snow and look for footprints or scratch marks on trees or anything at all to tell him he wasn't crazy, and now it was getting darker and colder (as if that were even possible) and the tracks he'd made in the drifts had long since filled with new snow, obliterating his retreat.

He'd probably die out here. Well good. It would save him the agony of starving to death or losing his toes to frostbite if he simply froze to death. Bit cowardly to lie down in the snow and succumb, though there wouldn't be anyone to witness it. Warrick struggled on stubbornly instead, chin tucked down against the bite of the wind, which was probably why he almost bumped into the walls of the cabin before he noticed it.

"Oh, thank Christ," he muttered to himself as tapped at the solid logs, beyond the point of caring whether this was a cold-induced hallucination or not. He'd rather freeze to death in illusory comfort, if that were an option. And it seemed that it might be.

From the flickering of shadow behind the frosted windows, there might even be a light source somewhere within, and light meant heat. Stumbling with the eagerness to get inside, he trekked around the small shack until he found the door and then flung himself at it.

[reimagines]

Will startled at the sudden, heavy pound at the door, quickly bringing himself to his feet, steel poker gripped tightly in his hand. Another one of his hallucinations -- perhaps one of Randall Tier, in all his bestial glory, attacking him once again in such a similar setting -- or was there something actually out there? Someone, he hoped, rather fervently. He didn't have the resources to deal with wild creatures. No gun, not even an attack dog in the form of the tiniest stray he had rescued.

Will let the blanket around his shoulders fall to the ground as he warily made his way to the door. Should he attempt to further barricade it or not? Looking out the windows was no good, because the perpetual snow storm outside meant everything was just a blanket of white. He bit his lower lip, worrying at it as he thought. If he were a person on the other side, he'd be desperate to get in, of course. No doubt about it. If he were an assailant on the other side, he'd be too panicked and cold to really assail. Will had the distinct advantage; warm limbs, steel that could easily double as a weapon, a calm mind from having been in the safety and warmth of the cabin for long enough.

Whatever was outside didn't sound like a creature, anyway. Not if it was drawn to the cabin, and not if he couldn't hear snarling and growling.

Will made his decision. After a few seconds, he finally pulled the door open, stepping back a little and holding an arm up to shield his face from the elements threatening to burst through the newly-opened door. Chilling, biting, lifeless cold, seeking out new territory to entrench itself into, and here Will was, letting it and a potential stranger in. Well, he had made worse decisions in his life.

[simtech]

A puff of warm air hit Warrick's face as the door swung open and he had to sigh and close his eyes and revel it for a few scant seconds. Perhaps he wouldn't be dying today after all. He opened his eyes, saw the man and the steel poker and reconsidered.

"...If you plan to bludgeon me to death, could you perhaps wait until I've got the feeling back in my limbs? It'll be much more effective then, promise." Hm...slurred vowels, no shivering. Not a very good sign, if he remembered his stages of hypothermia correctly. He looked hopefully past the stranger into the cabin. Was that a fire? Blankets, in a heap on the floor? God, what would he do for a blanket right now? Any number of entirely shameless things.

The wind dumped a fresh layer of snowflakes onto his head and Warrick blinked them from his eyelashes and offered a frozen approximation of a smile. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm p-perishing cold." Ah, there. A shudder. The blast of heat from the open door must be doing him some good. "Could I come in?"

[reimagines]

Will's features rearranged themselves into a reciprocating smile, the expression made slightly off by a sort of bitterness to the twist of his lips. Did he look like someone who could bludgeon somebody to death, even to a stranger, or was that a joke? He decided to take it as the latter, carefully looking over the man before he gave any reply. To say that the stranger was freezing was quite possibly an understatement; he looked as though he would keel over and die if he stayed out there for another fifteen minutes. Or perhaps freeze in place, a morbid eternal statue and warning sign for those to come. Lucky for him that he had found this cabin, then.

He stepped aside, giving the newcomer ample space to come in, arm still raised as flecks of snow peppered and gathered along the creases of his shirt. He had taken off his coat and left it to dry by the fire. "If you're not terrified of me bludgeoning you. Maybe make it fast." Because any heat that was building up inside the cabin was quickly dissipating with every second the door remained open.

1

[relatable]

[The loneliness is what gets to her. She has to be checking the messages to know she isn't the only person out there, to keep the thoughts and the memories away. It's easier to tune out what's happened to you if you can keep on distracting. So she doesn't sleep. She just stays up, talking to people. There's no walls she can climb over here, trapped with only herself.

But it seems she isn't the only one facing this kind of predicament. The comm is flooded with people just trying to survive the night. There's almost comfort in that. That she isn't the only one being tortured in this manner.]

Staying sane.

[reimagines]

[ Company. That's good, the words that flash on his screen bringing comfort. He could be hallucinating this as well, he supposes, but it would be a far more benign hallucination compared to his usual ones.

There's a lot of bitter irony in his reply, but he doesn't know who he's communicating with, so it's more like an in-joke to himself. ]

That's never particularly been a problem for me.

Are you seeing things, or hearing voices?

[relatable]

Me neither. [Despite the fact that she's been admitted. It's also because of the trauma she's gone through and the fact she has no where else to go now. But these are things she keeps to herself.]

Voices. Sometimes just noises. The sound of someone loading a gun. Stuff like that.

two!

[book_ends]

_{[Simon, too, is no stranger to hallucinations, with what having frequent psychotic episodes. Being trapped in unknown places isn't exactly news anymore, but each time it happens he doesn't remember, and it's always absolutely terrifying.]}

no, this entire place is not safe. please be careful around everything.

[reimagines]

[ Someone who knows something he doesn't, or just someone overly cautious? ]

Have you seen something here? Other than snow.

[book_ends]

yes there are monsters out there

2

[poppycock]

I wouldn't assume that at all.

[ clearly there's a reason they're all here; clearly there's some end. judging by the accommodations, klaus doubts it's a wintry getaway. ]

[reimagines]

Should we be worrying about each other, as well?

[ It's a joke, really. Awful joke. ]

[poppycock]

That all depends if you are the sort of person who believes man is his own greatest enemy.

[ the awful jokes keep coming. ]

2

[withanx]

I don't think it's safe to assume anything about this place.

[ It's not so much paranoia as it is survival instincts. Better safe than sorry, and all that. ]

[reimagines]

[ True, but it's just what he didn't want to hear. ]

A re-phrasal: do you think hallucinations have the potential to come to life here?

TWO

[parasitaster]

Not to be crude, but you know what they say about assuming.

[Someone else has made the mistake of staying put too long and it's starting to get to him too.

And no, his visions aren't any more comforting than Will's.]

[reimagines]

[ That earns a grimace of amusement. ]

I'm almost sorry to say I didn't expect that joke.

[parasitaster]

Seems par for the course around here. Expect the unexpected and all.

3

[whatshehaddone]

A death sentence. Truly. Perhaps that was what she was doing driving herself out of the small building that she'd awoken with but it did not feel safe there any longer and there were no answers to be found there. There was the device left to her by whomever dumped her there and that was subjected to the bulk of her fascination and study for the first two days.

Then she began to hear the crash of waves. The walls started to look damp.

Lizzie's underskirts -- no, every blasted layer of them -- were soaked through and then freezing on their own by the time she spotted another cabin with clear signs of life as evidence by the curling of smoke from the chimney. Cold. So cold, so blastedly frozen with night falling that she did not care about any apparent danger and crossed to one of the windows like a strafing wraith all on her own, palm touching one of the windows, face peering. Every breath out was curling mimic and every breath in was cold needles in her lungs.

There was a man - someone.

Lizzie crunched in sodden boots, cold stocking to the front and rapped upon the door sharply. "Hello? Sir?Please!"

[reimagines]

By now Will had been here long enough that he recognised the frantic knocking on the door for what it was: a fellow human, trapped in the white, endless snow, just like him. His hallucinations were too malicious and absurd to disguise themselves as a person in need, at least so far, anyway; the day that happened was the day he'd truly start going insane, his vivid imagination no longer conjuring things based on empathy and experience. He had steadily grown less wary of letting others seek refuge in the cabin he'd found, too. Chances were they stayed the night, and both parties always benefited from having real people to finally talk to again. The day a real predator came by, with the intention of assault and theft, would be the day he'd die and be brought back to life on that cold, hard slab, he supposed. As always, Will would rather help at his own risk.

He doesn't completely put himself in danger, though. The blanket lay discarded on the floor, but the steel poker was still gripped firmly in his hand when he pulled open the door, wary as his eyes met the woman's. She looked genuinely frozen, her clothes in a rather sorry state for the weather, water being the worst enemy in the icy element. A pang of sympathy, and he wordlessly stepped aside to let her in. She may have strayed and ended up here, but she wasn't a stray, he reminded himself. Nobody here was.

[whatshehaddone]

In all honesty she cannot blame him for arming himself.

Silence stretched like the snow upon the door opening and Lizzie took another frigid breath, clutching the coat found and claimed around her form as they stared at one another. Her dark eyes flicked down to the poker, the fingers curled around it and for another moment she longed for something to have herself more than the broken bits of glass wrapped to a piece of wood formally a chair leg. That was stored in her bag because she was begging haven not attempting to claim place for her own.

But she could reach it if she needed to. She had practiced once and a dozen times.

The man (of early middling years, unshaven for a few days, with the sort of hair that seemed to be in permanent disarray and cautious eyes) stepped aside and Lizzie hesitated only another heartbeat before ushering herself inside to close out the cold and certain death that had been snapping at her heels.

"...thank you." Lizzie searched and took up residence closer to the door than she'd like but in a place she could drip and melt while still giving a breadth of space between her and the man. "I...couldn't stay where I was- but I did not think-"

two.

[coleader]

If you have to ask, doesn't that answer your question?

[ There's always something to be worried about. She hasn't decided what, exactly, they should be worrying about, but she knows by the cold, creeping feeling up her spine that it's something. ]

To be on the safe side, I'd say no.

[reimagines]

It was a poor attempt at humour, I suppose.

Do you feel it, too? The sensation of being watched.

[coleader]

No, not poor - I guess it's hard to be in a joking mood right now. I know what you mean, about feeling watched. Somehow the town doesn't feel totally abandoned, but I don't know why anyone would hide from us.