Test Drive 18

[sixthiteration]

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Test Drive

→ Holds and applications are always open. Holds are required for all applications.

→ Choose one of the scenarios below or make up your own. Feel free to try multiple scenarios.

→ Write LOGS or TEXT prompts, or both.

→ THERE ARE ONLY THREE RULES FOR THE TDM:

1. It has to take place in the 6I universe.
2. It cannot be the character's arrival into the game.
3. Please only test new characters who do not have a version in the game. Our cast list is here.

→ TDM threads cannot be used to meet AC, but if the character is accepted into the game and both players agree, you may keep the CR.

→ Character want ads are here.

Prompts

Summer is here, villagers! Sunny skies, warm weather and plenty of weirdness are on the horizon. Don't forget your sunscreen!

1. THE MILK FOR FREE - Somehow, someway, you have been wrangled into milking one of the GROFFLES recently rounded up by your fellow villagers. Maybe you felt guilty for not helping, or maybe you owe someone scary money. Point is, it's just you, a bucket, and your green milk-giving friend. Just a tip: Groffles are good-natured, but you probably shouldn't squeeze too hard.


2. LIGHTNING ROD - Earlier today, you made your way into the upper foothills — Were you hunting? Maybe just roaming? — and you came into contact with a BLUE LILY. Maybe you thought it was so pretty you've carried it back to the village with you. If your house didn't have electricity before, it definitely does now!


3. MEET CUTE - It's a classic: You've gone down into the 6I INN'S dirt-walled root cellar off the kitchen. Maybe you needed supplies or were dropping off some fresh produce. Whatever the case, someone's followed you down for a similar reason... and the door has jammed shut behind them. Seriously, it's not budging. Enjoy getting to know your new best friend in the cozy light of the furnace!


4. WILDCARD - Choose your own adventure. Maybe play powers roulette.

Texts

All characters are fitted with a smart watch-like device on their left wrist, which they can use to send text messages to other villagers.

- Texts may only be 140 characters long
- No video or voice, text only
- No usernames, everyone is listed by their name

Please list your CHARACTER NAME, CANON & PROMPT in your SUBJECT LINE.

Comments

[improbables]

Domino can hear the mirth in his voice even if he's not precisely laughing, and after the initial white-hot second of annoyance, she drops her chin, lips pressing together against a smile as she huffs out a breath through her nose.

"You know," she says, sliding a gaze over to the owner of the voice, lifting a hand to sluice some of the milk from her face, "I wish I could say this is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen... or done."


[Pls forgive my lack of icons!]

[freightcars]

He's not so good with people, so it's a definite relief to hear something other than aggression coming back his way. His time in Wakanda has done him a little good, though, thankfully he's not as bad as he used to be or he might've ended the conversation there and slipped off. Instead he shifts forward, dropping a shoulder strap off of his bad arm in order to pull his back forward. He rifles through it until he finds the tanktop within, then tosses it gently at her.

"Don't exactly have a towel, but..." He shrugs a shoulder. It'll do. Hopefully green milk doesn't stain, but he's not exactly attached to the thing so it's no big loss.

[improbables]

"Thanks," Domino replies as her hand pops up to catch the shirt. "I should have brought a towel," she allows as she swipes the fabric across her face. "Somehow this result never occurred to me."

The milk is not just green, but straight out of the groffle — Sweet when she licks her lips but warm and frothy in a way she really is not going to let herself think about. That way lies madness.

"You might not believe it, but this is my very first time milking one of these," she adds, quirking a smile to the guy as she wipes down her arms.

[freightcars]

"You seemed like such a pro," He comments wryly in mock protest, dry and completely unconvincing. Not exactly antagonistic, though, just a gentle gib from a stranger. He ambles forward a bit more, drops down to pick up her bucket with a metal arm. It freezes, stiffens, tenses, and his fingers don't curl quite the way they're supposed to. The tech's been acting up ever since he got here, and there isn't exactly a local soviet-era advanced technologies prosthetic arm workshop around here. Consternated, he switches, plucking it up with his good arm and holding it out to her.

"If you don't mind my asking- why, exactly, are you milking a-..." What the hell is that thing, anyway? "...House?"

[improbables]

Her gaze dips to the arm, more for the malfunction than the fact of it, then shifts blithely back to the guy's face. It's not like this is the first person she's met with a mechanical arm this month.

Another soft laugh pushes from her throat, and she shakes her head as she gets to her feet. "I volunteered," she says. "I'd like to give you some bullshit story that's actually interesting and maybe makes up for having to witness this," she sweeps a hand toward herself, "but mostly I just felt guilty for not doing more. And also, I'm kind of used to being good at most things I do back home, so... Apparently this is a teachable moment."

The groffle has settled down onto the grass, unperturbed now that nobody's yanking on its boobs. "That," Domino says, pointing a finger gun its way, "is a groffle. And no, I did not just make that up."

[freightcars]

He gets that, he thinks, the guilty thing. Turns out he doesn't have a plethora of special skills that don't involve punching things or hiding from things, so he hasn't exactly been much use here either. He tried to fix something once, but with a malfunctioning arm and no technical training in anything non combat related he'd done more harm than good. Maybe he should milk one of these-

"Groffle?" He repeats incredulously, and it almost sounds like onomatopoeia for vomit when it leaves his mouth. A name as gross as the action, he has to admit. With a little shrug, he dubs it fitting.

His good hand comes out again, though whether it's to shake or to accept his tank top back, it's hard to say. "Anyway, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. Seemed like you kinda had it going for a minute there, until the..."

Milksplosion.