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?
The tread upon the floor was even but heavy: a man's.
Human? Such a gait didn't seem like the surreal wanderings of those that listened to the ocean more than reality but there was no ocean about.
Only snow. Endless, endless snow.
Even still she did not know what kind of man nor what intentions he held since the front door of the house she was truthfully ransacking was so forcefully opened. Though, it would be worth of her to remember that she did lock it behind her.
Still, the man travelled closer down the hallway - step after creaking door after step -- and Lizzie went for what little bit she armed with herself. Table leg, meet chair leg with a rather ragged blade fashioned on the tip and tied with a stripped from Lizzie's underskirts. Said Lizzie held her breath as the man stepped back and presenting himself with no immediate harmful intentions.
And she eased after a moment, the point of the weapon lowering. "It is one of the larger buildings I've come across." A little curt. Stiff as late night frost.
The blade was worrisome, no getting around that. It had him not feeling too inclined to put down his makeshift club. He eyed it for long moments before tearing his gaze away from it and back up to her face. "Same," he said, laconic.
"Trouble is, there's only one fireplace. We go settin' fires willy-nilly, we gonna burn the place down around our ears." He lifted his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. There was no way for this not to be awkward and uncomfortable. All he could do was to hope it didn't also have to be violent.
"Make you a deal. You don't go stickin' a hole in me, I won't knock ya on the head. We can spend a night peaceful like, go our separate ways tomorrow. That sound good to ya?"
There was some relief to see this man had the good sense to be reasonable instead of using force. She could gouge him painfully at least once but she had no faith that her makeshift weapon would last beyond that.
It was far from an axe, after all.
Lizzie nodded. "Yes, that's more than fair. I don't really desire this turning violent so late." Not when he was one of the first people she's come across in days. The blade lowered complete and Lizzie stepped to where she'd dropped her satchel, picking it up with a few watching glances spared back towards the doorway. "What is your name, if I may?"
One hurdle jumped for now. He felt better when she lowered the pig sticker, staying out in the hallway to give her plenty of space to gather up whatever she needed from in there. He'd have wanted the same.
"Name's George," he said. He nodded and lifted his hand to touch the brim of his hat. He could have some manners when he put his mind to it. She sounded like a lady. Shame she'd be stuck with somebody so coarse for the night. He'd have to watch his mouth, try not to cuss so much.
"I'm gonna see about a fire 'fore it gets too dark." He headed back toward the front room. Now and then he looked over his shoulder. He still wasn't very comfortable with the idea of someone with a knife at his back, lady or no.
She nodded back shrugging the weight of her bag to a comfortable position and began to follow. The knife was put away but not out of reach from being grabbed out with the way the length of the chair leg stuck out of the top. "Lizzie."
Only after a moment of trepidation did she follow, moving lightly with the swish of skirts as they left the upstairs and assumed themselves back in the room with the fireplace. "Do you have matches? Or flint?" That had been what she'd been looking for mainly in her search of the home.
There was a pickle. Tell the truth to the lady with the knife spear or do this the hard way. His mistrustful nature won out without much of a struggle. "Got a boot lace. Jes' as good. Warms me up, too."
He moved over to the fireplace and dug his small pocket knife out to start shaving kindling. He'd need a fine pile of it for this. The furniture bits were better than campfire wood. There was a flat board he could carve out into the notch and shallow shape he needed, and the spindle of a chair back was an ideal shape for looping the lace around once he had it out of his boot.
"Used t' do this all the time on the road." He did it when his matches were wet or he and Lennie ran out between jobs. It required stamina and patience. It was harder in the confines of a fireplace but not impossible. He kept pressure on the spindle and very quickly sawed the lace back and forth, again and again until the pile of kindling around it began smoking. Only when a decent sized plume of smoke curled did he set his make-shift tool aside and begin carefully blowing. He wasn't inclined to conversation during the laborious process, but afterward he sat back on his heels in satisfaction. "There we go. Ain't even fully dark yet."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
snowblindmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snowblindmemes2015-05-12 07:10 am
Three
Human? Such a gait didn't seem like the surreal wanderings of those that listened to the ocean more than reality but there was no ocean about.
Only snow. Endless, endless snow.
Even still she did not know what kind of man nor what intentions he held since the front door of the house she was truthfully ransacking was so forcefully opened. Though, it would be worth of her to remember that she did lock it behind her.
Still, the man travelled closer down the hallway - step after creaking door after step -- and Lizzie went for what little bit she armed with herself. Table leg, meet chair leg with a rather ragged blade fashioned on the tip and tied with a stripped from Lizzie's underskirts. Said Lizzie held her breath as the man stepped back and presenting himself with no immediate harmful intentions.
And she eased after a moment, the point of the weapon lowering. "It is one of the larger buildings I've come across." A little curt. Stiff as late night frost.
no subject
"Trouble is, there's only one fireplace. We go settin' fires willy-nilly, we gonna burn the place down around our ears." He lifted his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. There was no way for this not to be awkward and uncomfortable. All he could do was to hope it didn't also have to be violent.
"Make you a deal. You don't go stickin' a hole in me, I won't knock ya on the head. We can spend a night peaceful like, go our separate ways tomorrow. That sound good to ya?"
no subject
It was far from an axe, after all.
Lizzie nodded. "Yes, that's more than fair. I don't really desire this turning violent so late." Not when he was one of the first people she's come across in days. The blade lowered complete and Lizzie stepped to where she'd dropped her satchel, picking it up with a few watching glances spared back towards the doorway. "What is your name, if I may?"
no subject
"Name's George," he said. He nodded and lifted his hand to touch the brim of his hat. He could have some manners when he put his mind to it. She sounded like a lady. Shame she'd be stuck with somebody so coarse for the night. He'd have to watch his mouth, try not to cuss so much.
"I'm gonna see about a fire 'fore it gets too dark." He headed back toward the front room. Now and then he looked over his shoulder. He still wasn't very comfortable with the idea of someone with a knife at his back, lady or no.
no subject
She nodded back shrugging the weight of her bag to a comfortable position and began to follow. The knife was put away but not out of reach from being grabbed out with the way the length of the chair leg stuck out of the top. "Lizzie."
Only after a moment of trepidation did she follow, moving lightly with the swish of skirts as they left the upstairs and assumed themselves back in the room with the fireplace. "Do you have matches? Or flint?" That had been what she'd been looking for mainly in her search of the home.
no subject
He moved over to the fireplace and dug his small pocket knife out to start shaving kindling. He'd need a fine pile of it for this. The furniture bits were better than campfire wood. There was a flat board he could carve out into the notch and shallow shape he needed, and the spindle of a chair back was an ideal shape for looping the lace around once he had it out of his boot.
"Used t' do this all the time on the road." He did it when his matches were wet or he and Lennie ran out between jobs. It required stamina and patience. It was harder in the confines of a fireplace but not impossible. He kept pressure on the spindle and very quickly sawed the lace back and forth, again and again until the pile of kindling around it began smoking. Only when a decent sized plume of smoke curled did he set his make-shift tool aside and begin carefully blowing. He wasn't inclined to conversation during the laborious process, but afterward he sat back on his heels in satisfaction. "There we go. Ain't even fully dark yet."