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?
[Steve stares at that one for a long time, then has to wipe his eyes. Shut up, he's not crying, YOU'RE crying.]
Yeah. Bet you would.
[Steve has an idea.]
Hold up.
[A few minutes pass.]
Best I could do.
[Included with this message is an attachment: a photo of Steve attempting a convincing smile, holding up a yellowed piece of paper, upon which is a pretty decent pencil-sketch of an elephant, with a rough outline of a human, for scale.]
[No, Steve, it's you crying, fyi. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
It takes Grey a long time to figure out how to look at the picture, how to open the attachment.
When he does, he blinks in surprise. He's used to looking at Painter's drawings, not at something so convincing as this.
Then he's caught, because Steve looks nearly identical to Curtis but for a lot of factors: cleanliness, no beard and the smile. Curtis never smiled, ever.
It's enough to have him take a long time before he looks at the picture. Painter's definitely a better artist that Steve is, but he gets the idea.
[suddenly, there is a talking head on Grey's tablet. He's seen videos in the tail but this is the man who looks like Curtis but not at the same time. Grey touches over his face. What Steve will see if Grey is showing up on his screen is a dirty, bloody, tired and cold young man with intense eyes. After a moment, he waves.]
[The first thing Steve sees is a fairly dirty hand, and then, dimly lit by the tablet screen, a kid. ...Well, a young man, probably not a hell of a lot younger than Steve, really. Late teens, mid-twenties? Too young to die this way. Not any younger than Pietro, though. Not any younger than a dozen young men Steve's seen gasp out their last breaths on the battlefields of Europe. Steve remembers their faces, every one of them. He knows he's going to remember this one, too.
[It will become obvious pretty soon that Grey can't talk. And he keeps touching the screen. This man on the screen is talking to him and he still looks like Curtis, but much less by the minute. He lifts his arm though to show Steve a word on his arm: Where?
[Steve isn't put off by the screen-touching. He figures a fella who lived on a train his whole life with the world extinct outside and never saw any animals except some fish that one time probably hasn't had access to an iPad. He's just glad the kid figured out how to use it.
He blinks a little, then figures out Grey's trying to ask him a question. He notices other tattoos, and... wow. OK. OK. This would explain a few things.
He ponders the question.]
"Where am I? ...I don't know, exactly. In some broken-down house. We're both in Norfinbury, but I don't know how big of a town this is. Haven't got the lay of the land, and it's hard to see too far in this fog. I know there's other people here but I haven't found them yet.
[Grey shakes his head; he can't speak, which does explain why he has no many words on his skin, though it doesn't explain the ones on his back, which he didn't put there, of course]
"Ah. Well, guess I'll have to do the talking. I can do that."
[Steve bites his lip, thinking of Grey's silent, Where? All of a sudden, Steve wonders...]
"Hey, I don't know if... if you've figured this out, I mean, I assume you tried to get indoors, but all of the doors seal at night. All of them. I'd come find you if I could, but. I'm stuck in here and I can't— ...Someone else got caught outside, and I tried, I tried to break down the door, break a window, but I'm not... I'm not strong enough. Not anymore." [He clutches at his shoulder absently; it still hurts like a son of a bitch. Cracked a bone, probably. He doesn't heal like he used to, either.] "I wouldn't leave you out there, I wouldn't. Not if I had a choice, OK?"
[Steve's voice cracks a little. His face is a picture of misery.]
[Where Grey is from, people didn't take risks for other people, aside from parents for children. Grey wouldn't have expected a stranger to take risks for him. He was trained to fight and die for Curtis, but he's the exception.
He nods; he gets it. He doesn't smile, of course, Grey doesn't smile. But he understands.]
"OK." [Whoops, that got a bit emotional. Steve knew this video thing was going to be tough. He turns away from the camera, sniffs loudly, lets out a long slow breath, then looks at the camera again.] "OK."
"Like I said before, though, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here... as long as you want me, anyway. If you'd rather be alone, you can tell me to buzz off, or just hang up I guess. Otherwise, I'll stay on the line. Talking your ear off, I guess." [weak smile] "OK?"
"All right then." [Now, what the heck to talk about?]
"Let's see... I suppose you'd like to hear more about where I'm from?" [Brooklyn would be good. Lots of funny stories from Brooklyn. Lots of funny stories from the War, too, but Steve's not sure he wants to go there. He settles himself more comfortably, lying back and looking up at the ceiling, and starts to talk.]
"I grew up in a place called Brooklyn. Part of a big city called New York, huge city, lots of tall buildings all crowded together, millions of people. It's so big they had to divide it up into smaller pieces; 'boroughs', they're called, Brooklyn's one of those. Brooklyn, and all of New York really, was crowded, dirty, smelly... cold in the winter, hot in the summer, but." [He smiles.] "It's the best place in the whole damn world, it really is."
[The longer he talks, the stronger his Brooklyn accent gets.]
"I had this pal, growing up. Bucky. We used to—" [He laughs.] "We used t'get into all sorts of trouble. This one time, we were headed back home from Ebbets Field—the Dodgers had just lost pretty bad..."
((OOC: Not sure where you want to go from here? I've been enjoying this thread IMMENSELY, and by 'enjoying this thread' I mean 'lying face down on the floor and weeping', but I think we're kind of limited at this point. I dunno if you wanna stop here, or cut ahead to Grey quietly shuffling off this mortal coil and Steve having emotions about it? Or I could make up endless stories about Brooklyn and Grey can nod occasionally, IDK, I'M GOOD FOR ANYTHING, what would you like to do?
Also hello, I'm Ange, it has been a goddamned pleasure so far. <3))
[ooc: hello, Ange! Laura here! :) Don't weep! <3 I am really enjoying this too, so I want keep going with the scenario you lay down here. I need to read up on the game a little more too.]
[Grey listens. He doesn't even realize that he's getting sleepy or that one moment, he's no longer cold. He feels almost warm. He feels ... okay.
He feels good.
And then he's gone, then tablet falling down into his lap, focusing the camera on his name on his chest which doesn't move.]
[Steve sees Grey's eyes drift closed, but he keeps talking. When the tablet falls into Grey's lap, Steve's voice cracks a little, but still he keeps talking, until he's sure, absolutely sure that Grey's not moving anymore, that he's not breathing. Steve falls abruptly silent, mid-sentence.]
"...Grey?"
[Steve looks down at his lap, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat before looking up again.]
"Hey buddy. I'm gonna—I'm gonna sign off now. ...Godspeed, kid."
[It's a few seconds before Steve can bring himself to close the connection and turn off the tablet screen, plunging himself into darkness. He curls up on the mattress, pulling the comforter tighter around himself.
![[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)
snowblindmemes2015-10-15 02:54 am
no subject
no subject
Yeah. Bet you would.
[Steve has an idea.]
Hold up.
[A few minutes pass.]
Best I could do.
[Included with this message is an attachment: a photo of Steve attempting a convincing smile, holding up a yellowed piece of paper, upon which is a pretty decent pencil-sketch of an elephant, with a rough outline of a human, for scale.]
no subject
It takes Grey a long time to figure out how to look at the picture, how to open the attachment.
When he does, he blinks in surprise. He's used to looking at Painter's drawings, not at something so convincing as this.
Then he's caught, because Steve looks nearly identical to Curtis but for a lot of factors: cleanliness, no beard and the smile. Curtis never smiled, ever.
It's enough to have him take a long time before he looks at the picture. Painter's definitely a better artist that Steve is, but he gets the idea.
He doesn't know what to say, so he just types:]
Thank you
no subject
You're welcome, Grey.
no subject
video
He hesitates, then switches his tablet to video.]
"Hey there. Maybe this would be better?"
Re: video
no subject
Steve quirks his lips a little and waves back.]
"Hi. Nice to meet you properly, Grey."
no subject
Where is Steve?]
no subject
He blinks a little, then figures out Grey's trying to ask him a question. He notices other tattoos, and... wow. OK. OK. This would explain a few things.
He ponders the question.]
"Where am I? ...I don't know, exactly. In some broken-down house. We're both in Norfinbury, but I don't know how big of a town this is. Haven't got the lay of the land, and it's hard to see too far in this fog. I know there's other people here but I haven't found them yet.
...Grey, are you unable to speak?"
no subject
no subject
[Steve bites his lip, thinking of Grey's silent, Where? All of a sudden, Steve wonders...]
"Hey, I don't know if... if you've figured this out, I mean, I assume you tried to get indoors, but all of the doors seal at night. All of them. I'd come find you if I could, but. I'm stuck in here and I can't— ...Someone else got caught outside, and I tried, I tried to break down the door, break a window, but I'm not... I'm not strong enough. Not anymore." [He clutches at his shoulder absently; it still hurts like a son of a bitch. Cracked a bone, probably. He doesn't heal like he used to, either.] "I wouldn't leave you out there, I wouldn't. Not if I had a choice, OK?"
[Steve's voice cracks a little. His face is a picture of misery.]
no subject
He nods; he gets it. He doesn't smile, of course, Grey doesn't smile. But he understands.]
no subject
"Like I said before, though, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here... as long as you want me, anyway. If you'd rather be alone, you can tell me to buzz off, or just hang up I guess. Otherwise, I'll stay on the line. Talking your ear off, I guess." [weak smile] "OK?"
no subject
He's been surrounded by people his entire life. But even then, he has felt alone.
As cold as he is here, he feels less alone and he is grateful for that.
He touches his mouth, nodding toward Steve. Talk away.]
no subject
"Let's see... I suppose you'd like to hear more about where I'm from?" [Brooklyn would be good. Lots of funny stories from Brooklyn. Lots of funny stories from the War, too, but Steve's not sure he wants to go there. He settles himself more comfortably, lying back and looking up at the ceiling, and starts to talk.]
"I grew up in a place called Brooklyn. Part of a big city called New York, huge city, lots of tall buildings all crowded together, millions of people. It's so big they had to divide it up into smaller pieces; 'boroughs', they're called, Brooklyn's one of those. Brooklyn, and all of New York really, was crowded, dirty, smelly... cold in the winter, hot in the summer, but." [He smiles.] "It's the best place in the whole damn world, it really is."
[The longer he talks, the stronger his Brooklyn accent gets.]
"I had this pal, growing up. Bucky. We used to—" [He laughs.] "We used t'get into all sorts of trouble. This one time, we were headed back home from Ebbets Field—the Dodgers had just lost pretty bad..."
((OOC: Not sure where you want to go from here? I've been enjoying this thread IMMENSELY, and by 'enjoying this thread' I mean 'lying face down on the floor and weeping', but I think we're kind of limited at this point. I dunno if you wanna stop here, or cut ahead to Grey quietly shuffling off this mortal coil and Steve having emotions about it? Or I could make up endless stories about Brooklyn and Grey can nod occasionally, IDK, I'M GOOD FOR ANYTHING, what would you like to do?
Also hello, I'm Ange, it has been a goddamned pleasure so far. <3))
no subject
[Grey listens. He doesn't even realize that he's getting sleepy or that one moment, he's no longer cold. He feels almost warm. He feels ... okay.
He feels good.
And then he's gone, then tablet falling down into his lap, focusing the camera on his name on his chest which doesn't move.]
no subject
"...Grey?"
[Steve looks down at his lap, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat before looking up again.]
"Hey buddy. I'm gonna—I'm gonna sign off now. ...Godspeed, kid."
[It's a few seconds before Steve can bring himself to close the connection and turn off the tablet screen, plunging himself into darkness. He curls up on the mattress, pulling the comforter tighter around himself.
He doesn't sleep that night.]
no subject
no subject
deadHE'S JUST SLEEPINGGrey* *hugs you*))