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?
[ Now this is a sight, Ygritte thinks; it's not often she sees someone in this frozen wasteland standing their ground in the face of someone else encroaching on a shelter they'd found. It hasn't happened often, but when she's confronted someone, they'd usually taken one look at her in her doeskins and rabbitskins, a fierce and wild look in her blue eyes, and immediately left her to the goods.
Not so, this time.
Her lips curve upwards in a slightly crooked smirk. ]
Not yours, neither, if we're tellin' it true. Didn't stop you, did it?
He shifts his weight, acknowledgement of the obvious matter-of-fact in a wrinkle at his brow. His eyes are also blue, clear and keen and measuring her top to bottom the same way he might a rabid dog: concerned mainly with her reach. ]
No.
[ She has him there. But that casual shift in center of balance has primed the angle of his shoulders into better coverage of his cache, and the absence of any guilt in confession is telling. Easy affect aside, there’s tension in the ready poise of his right hand, right about where the hilt of a sword should cross his hip.
[ Her eyes follow that right hand, and she can almost feel the itch in his fingers for his weapon; she knows the feeling well, although she wonders just what kind of weapon he'd have in comparison. Whatever it might've been, he doesn't have it now. They're on equal footing.
(Even if she has plans to carve a bow of her own make, here - it's not weirwood from beyond the Wall, but it'll do.)
She stalks a bit closer, fearlessness in her eyes. Now that she can see him a bit better in the gloom she can see he's significantly older, at least older than she is. ]
These shelters, they're here for the takin'. And it don't matter who y'are - it's up t' whoever's the strongest t' claim them. [ She takes a step closer, warily. ]
How strong do y' think you are, then? [ her smirk abruptly drops. ] Old man.
[ No sword, not even a dagger, Jorah lets his hand ease back to his side, where it waits, open and ready. He’s down to vembraces and skirt for protection; the heavier metal plate of his armor is missing, arranged in at tidy stack in another room. Naturally.
The look in her eyes is enough to steel some of the humor out of the grip of his jaw, whiskers bristled ginger and grey at his chops. What remains is at his own expense as much as it is hers, but he does stand a shade taller at the insult, spine stiffened out in the small of his back. Old man. ]
Keep walking and find out.
[ All gravel and sand, he manages to make it sound like an invitation, very nearly polite. ]
[ She advances a few steps further, out of either aggression or pure obstinacy it's not readily apparent, but one thing's for certain - she doesn't run from a conflict.
She notes the way the stranger's spine stiffens, and she tips her chin. ]
You've no weapon, either. How'll y'stop me, Old Man? [ She casts a scornful eye down at the skirt of his armor. ] 'Specially when y'might catch a draft in that getup?
[ real warriors don't let their undercarriages get exposed to the elements, Jorah. ]
[ He takes a moment to think about it, as if assessing his options, limited as he is. By his skirt. ]
By beating you to death, I suppose.
[ Resignation has had time to settle bland behind the blue of his eyes. There’s no relish or fire in the threat as it’s issued, delivery dead level and just as certain. She asked. ]
If you insist,
[ he means. Ser Jorah looks unimpressed, invitation implicit in the ground he hasn’t given. Also, in a slight lift of his sword hand.
And you'd do that? To a poor, d'fenseless girl, like m'self?
[ A bit – alright, a lot – of fibbing, complete with her best lady-kneeler expression, as she advances just a few steps closer. Ygritte is far from defenseless.
Although, with his height and muscle advantage, she's not naive enough to deny that he could make good on that threat. She spreads her mittened hands. ] – Look, I've not got no weapon on me. You'd be killin' an innocent woman. You beaten many o' those, t' death?
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snowblindmemes2015-05-12 07:10 am
never ask!
Not so, this time.
Her lips curve upwards in a slightly crooked smirk. ]
Not yours, neither, if we're tellin' it true. Didn't stop you, did it?
no subject
He shifts his weight, acknowledgement of the obvious matter-of-fact in a wrinkle at his brow. His eyes are also blue, clear and keen and measuring her top to bottom the same way he might a rabid dog: concerned mainly with her reach. ]
No.
[ She has him there. But that casual shift in center of balance has primed the angle of his shoulders into better coverage of his cache, and the absence of any guilt in confession is telling. Easy affect aside, there’s tension in the ready poise of his right hand, right about where the hilt of a sword should cross his hip.
He isn’t going anywhere. ]
lmfaojgj i am so sorry for her
(Even if she has plans to carve a bow of her own make, here - it's not weirwood from beyond the Wall, but it'll do.)
She stalks a bit closer, fearlessness in her eyes. Now that she can see him a bit better in the gloom she can see he's significantly older, at least older than she is. ]
These shelters, they're here for the takin'. And it don't matter who y'are - it's up t' whoever's the strongest t' claim them. [ She takes a step closer, warily. ]
How strong do y' think you are, then? [ her smirk abruptly drops. ] Old man.
RUuuuuuuuuuude
The look in her eyes is enough to steel some of the humor out of the grip of his jaw, whiskers bristled ginger and grey at his chops. What remains is at his own expense as much as it is hers, but he does stand a shade taller at the insult, spine stiffened out in the small of his back. Old man. ]
Keep walking and find out.
[ All gravel and sand, he manages to make it sound like an invitation, very nearly polite. ]
8D
She notes the way the stranger's spine stiffens, and she tips her chin. ]
You've no weapon, either. How'll y'stop me, Old Man? [ She casts a scornful eye down at the skirt of his armor. ] 'Specially when y'might catch a draft in that getup?
[ real warriors don't let their undercarriages get exposed to the elements, Jorah. ]
no subject
By beating you to death, I suppose.
[ Resignation has had time to settle bland behind the blue of his eyes. There’s no relish or fire in the threat as it’s issued, delivery dead level and just as certain. She asked. ]
If you insist,
[ he means. Ser Jorah looks unimpressed, invitation implicit in the ground he hasn’t given. Also, in a slight lift of his sword hand.
Her choice. ]
lmfsgj oh god
[ A bit – alright, a lot – of fibbing, complete with her best lady-kneeler expression, as she advances just a few steps closer. Ygritte is far from defenseless.
Although, with his height and muscle advantage, she's not naive enough to deny that he could make good on that threat. She spreads her mittened hands. ] – Look, I've not got no weapon on me. You'd be killin' an innocent woman. You beaten many o' those, t' death?