Test Drive 20 (August & September)

[sixthiteration]

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→ 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

Happy anniversary, villagers! Buckle up!

1. HEAT WAVE - Poor you. All you were trying to do was get yourself a little something to eat from the kitchen at the inn. Maybe you cooked it up yourself (The inn does, after all, have an electric stove — FANCY!), or maybe you just grabbed some leftovers. By accident or on purpose, you ended up with way more RED SALT in there than you maybe should have, and this is no ordinary seasoning. Whether you like things eye-wateringly spicy or not, it's August, you're sweating buckets, and it's only getting worse.


2. SKUNK DRUNK - Isn't that just the way? You're out and about, minding your own business, and you get sprayed by a BROWN SKUNK. The good news? It doesn't stink like a normal skunk. The also possibly good news, depending on who you ask? You're now in for about 5 hours of being very, very friendly. (Just remember to keep the test drive PG!)


3. BRAIN CANDY - Whether you made it to the anniversary party or not, you've gotten your hands on a piece of leftover candy from the big bash. Careful, though, these treats are more than meets the eye: Whatever COLOR it was, you've now taken on the associated personality traits. (Not the power, just the traits.) At least it only lasts 10 minutes.


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
- Display names may be changed by characters on the fly, but anyone can tap to see someone's real full name

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

Comments

Alex Price | InCryptid

[scales_and_silence]

Text, UN Dr. A. Price

Dr. of vet. sci and zoologist. Would appreciate specimens of any/all pre-deceased local wildlife. Do not kill them. Not offering money.

Wild(life)card

Alex has been in the woods for a day now, dried mud caked to his skin along with some aromatic oils that fend off insects decently well without disturbing the things he's here to look in on. Those things being literally any animal he's not familiar with from home, because a Price is a Price is a Price. So he's hauled up in a makeshift hunter's blind with no weapon drawn, but with a notebook and several pencils, filling it with rough sketches and notes on animal behavior.

Crow, his pet church griffin (essentially, a cross between a raven and a Maine Coon, about the size of a bewinged corgi) circles overhead, a little less stealthy than he would be at home. The Covenant has no foothold in this reality- yet, or that Alex knows of- so he hasn't kept up quite the Batman-level paranoia his family normally keeps.

"Just don't eat anything up there, buddy. We don't know what's toxic to you here."

The tiny (for a griffin) griffin chirrups back with a sound that's somehow both avian and feline at once, while not being precisely either. Alex sighs. "That means you've already eaten something, doesn't it?"

The remains of some small rodent fall at Alex's feet. "I am not giving you a bath if you throw that thing up all over yourself later." This is a lie. he will totally give Crow a bath if he pukes on himself. Better get a little scratched up than let him groom himself if what he's eaten isn't good for him.

Your Wildcard

Anything else you could want with a cryptozoologist. Griffin and/or talking mice available on request.

[oorah]

Alex is spared from Frank's veritable pack of dogs by being so far out into the wilderness. Kira had told him it made him nervous to take Aurora out of town and he'd easily agreed. The shepherd was easily spooked and prone to getting herself into trouble where it presented itself. So today he only has two dogs with him, a record low for Vin Diesel's The Babysitter (but for dogs.) These two are even (mostly) his though he shares custody of the bloodhound with a friend from home. At least, he thinks they're friends. Here, they're at least neighbors.

Aretha has a trail and once a scent enters her nostrils she won't be deterred, not even by Frank and his doggy sign language. A blocky man and an even blockier dog follow after even as she comes right up to Alex and sniffs insistently at his shoes, like whatever she's searching for is on his spot and he better move. All Frank can do is shake his head as himself and the gray pitbull come into view. He loses track all the time of who comes and goes from this place, and it feels like a luxury even though it shouldn't. Here he doesn't have to care who's here. People certainly don't care that he is, after all.

"She's friendly," the bearded man offers in gruff greeting, holding out a hand to get Aloe to sit by his leg and wait for further instruction. He's already a much better listener than Aurora which makes him the perfect candidate for the woods. What Frank can't teach him, Aretha will. After a moment, he looks up and catches sight of the strange bird. He thinks it's cute and he wonders if it's in Mark's book about the animals here. He's never seen anything like it before, not here and not Reims, and definitely not in New York. Hell's Kitchen has its own manner of freaks, sure, but Frank feels as distant from that place as he ever has. Some days, he scarcely remembers it exists.

[killorder]

The military is behind Jake, but that doesn't mean that it's that easy to take the training out of the soldier. Sadly, that isn't Jake. It's more Cougar, but when Jake spies something he's not seen before making loops out over the trees, he can't help but to check it out.

Wear boots and camo trousers with a hot pink tee shirt, Jake grabs the sack he keeps ready and heads out into the woods. It's an easy path that he's taken a few times, mostly in checking out what he can find to not starve to death and not take from the community supplies if he can help it. There's others that need things more than he does so long as he's able to scrounge for himself.

Now though he's just curious, trying to catch glimpses of it through the foliage over head. And watching it as he begins to make out a shape so closely that he runs face first into a tree.

"Well, fuck." Reeling back as he tests his nose, hoping he's not bleeding.

Re: Alex Price | InCryptid

[houmaprotector]

Any particular genus?

WILDCARD

[nonstopnarcissist]

"So-" He strides up, wiping his hands clean of the near perpetual layer of ash and sooth that comes from working in a forge all the live long day, night, and part of the next day while his good ole fountain of youth boon lasts. "You and Dr. Banner have a date for getting him good and toasted but here's the thing. I called dibs on getting him high literal years ago."

Obviously, anyone else rolling up and taking that from him is just not going to stand.

Bruce Banner | MCU (Infinity War)

[notsoangry]

HEAT WAVE

It was a lose-lose situation, a situation that Bruce might as well have been the poster child for. When he quietly moved into the kitchen, he knew there were options left in there he could test out, leftovers that probably no one would mind if he tasted, but he was always very respectful of other people's things in the lab and at the tower. So instead he hovered around the stove and considered what few dishes he knew how to make. The list wasn't that short after years on the run and finding food to toss together at a moment's notice, but it was very basic.

This was that moment he would come to regret, when he hesitated after making something very, very bland, and thought well what could this hurt, really? before putting in what he assumed was a local spice. He'd lived in many countries with impressive spice ratios, but either this was a new level, or he'd lost all ability to ingest flavor after years of his body not being his.

Either way, the end result was a coughing fit and nearly dropping the bowl, and he scrambled to try and catch the bowl at the same time, but only managed to smack it in the air and send it flying farther away. The crash caused him to wince, and he hurried toward it, wheezing at the same time, desperate to just clean it up and pretend this never happened. "Good one," he whisper-coughed, "Banner."

Between hurrying to pick up the food and not getting his breathing under control, he was leaning low to the ground when he coughed hard and bumped his head against the counter, instantly on the floor. Bruce just sat for a moment, wondering not for the first time how a man with seven PhDs could be clumsy enough to guest star in a Stooges comedy act. It's fine. He was going to hide there for now. Who needed dignity?

TEXT: UN: Dr. Banner

Let's say you haven't had a drink in years. What would be your suggestion? Note: something we have in stock.

TEXT. UN: Barnes.

[freightcars]

Hate to disappoint you, but our stock's mostly moonshine and toilet wine, with the occasional aside of bathtub vodka.
On the bright side, nobody's gone blind yet.

Heat Wave

[nonstopnarcissist]

"...let me guess. Too much red salt?" Tony wandered up to grab himself a bowl of something to carry back to the forge and saw most of this tragedy in three parts. Part of him was so certain this was some kind of hour thirty six hallucination (back home he didn't get those until hour fifty or so but forge work was more labor intensive, he'd been learning to adjust accordingly.), enough that he sat and waited until the last little crash, the fumbling attempts to clean up before he pushed himself out of the doorway and knelt to help clean up. Hallucinatory Banner tended to be more stern and fondly exasperated, less human garbage fire.

Reasons they got along so well, being mutual messes. Genius didn't always lend itself to straightforward thinking and structure outside of the lab- at least in Tony's case.

Heat Wave

[killorder]

The red salt is, to this day, something that Jake considers to be a practical joke that someone invented just to get their kicks in this place. After how bad it scalded him and the pain that came with it, he can't be made to believe otherwise.

Not that he's thinking about that when he hears a clatter and coughing and a bang as he's heading for the kitchen. If he's honest, he is kind of being clandestine, hoping to get a look at the stove and try and figure out where the electricity comes from to share with the rest of the village.

Instead he finds himself sprinting, worrying someone's choking. Not that most cough when they are choking but survival 101 is taking a back seat to trying to do the right thing.

So Jake comes skittering into the kitchen, wide eyed and a bit flushed, looking around.

"Uhmmm, everyone okay in here?"

UN: Dr. A. Price

[scales_and_silence]

Alcohol's hard to find here, but there are copious amounts of marijuana.

Better for the liver, at least.

Or you can pet a peacat for a while. Their scent marking pheromones are like Feliway for humans.

Heat Wave

[morphogenia]

Kamala watches that whole affair with a wince. She's never seen a grown man so clumsy. That's saying a lot considering she lives with a goofy big brother like Aamir... or did at least in her memories. Long story. Kamala takes pity on him immediately and goes to retrieve some green milk from the fridge.

"Milk helps." She promises as she offers him a glass.

Heat Wave

[houmaprotector]

There are some times, not many but some, that Alec has no regrets about what he's become. This - whatever this spice is - is one of those times which is why he's going around with a big poorly made basket (large fingers do not lend themselves to basket weaving as well as he used to.) filled with sage. Locally grown, safe to chew, provide some mild relief even if it's a bit...awkward roaming around like a green Florence nightingale.

Thinking of Florence made him think of Abigail and he pushed it out of the way by approaching the man he hadn't seen before. He hrrms before he offers him a big handful of plant.

"Sage and mint. Then go get milk. That will help."

un: anarchist hotdog

[oorah]

i'm gonna suggest the weed instead in that case, brother. the booze we have here is pain thinner at best.

Thor Odinson | mcu

[lostmyhammer]

[Heat wave]

Thor is used to eating a lot of different kinds of food. It's different, all across the Nine Realms, and realms outside of those, too, and he's been to a lot. So, sure, why not try some of this red salt on his meat? It's blander than much of the Midgardian food he's familiar with (that's not the fault of whoever cooked it though, he knows that, they just did what they could with what was available to them), and could use a little flavor. It's just salt, right, albeit of a different color than usual?

But then. Then. All at one. It's like he swallowed all of Surtur's rage whole and it's fighting its way back out through his skin. It's not the spice he minds so much, he's eaten plenty of that before, but the buckets of sweat pouring down his back. It wasn't even ever this bad in the middle of a fight. Normally he could handle this, but apparently when he lost the abilities granted to him by being born a god of Asgard, he lost this ability too. What do people even do when this happens to them?

Maybe taking his shirt off will help...

[Wildcard]

So he's stuck here. As essentially a (strong, burly, muscle-y) human. Again. No more lightning, no more flying. No more Asgard, even if he ever leaves this place. At least he's not stuck here alone, even if some of them are less affected by the loss of certain abilities than others.

There are some things he never had to learn how to do; Asgardian princes are not expected to acquire or cook their own food, after all, or sew their own clothes. Or any number of other things. One thing he still does know how to do is use a hammer. He could do that all day. So he's out and about in the village with a hammer and a bucket of nails, making repairs here and there to anything that needs it. It's not Mjolnir, and it's not the middle of a battle, but he still knows how to get the job done. Got something that needs fixing? He's easy enough to find.

[Text, un: godofthunder]

isd thiss how tyhis works

[Someone's fingers are too big for the tiny buttons.]

UN: The Mechanic

[nonstopnarcissist]

Thor? Holy shit the gang's all here.

UN: Dr. Banner

[notsoangry]

Thor, hey! Are you having trouble with the tech?

network, un: agentc

[womanofvalue]

Not really, but you're close?

Jack Holden | Zombies, Run!

[250mhzwabl]

Heat Wave

Here's the thing about Pot Noodle - it has too much sodium for any sane human being to be eating in a week, let alone a single sitting. That had never stopped Jack from bolting it down, though, before the end of the world and all. And now that he's in a place with a basic level of technology to have dried noodles, and a stove no one's going to tell him off for using because fuel is rationed, and so much of this really lovely red-colored salt? Well. Can't fault a soul for being nostalgic, now can you?

Unfortunately, here's two things about coming from the zom-infected post-apocalyptic shambles of the UK. One, you're used to food being precious rare - as in, you have literally seen people fight for it. Tossing something unpalatable is not an option. Two, when you can get food at all, you're lucky if 'bland' is the worst you can say about the flavor - and your last good spicy curry is probably a fond and fuzzy memory to even your brain, let alone your tastebuds.

The consequence was inevitable - that Jack Holden had made himself a pot of essentially inedible noodles, bolted it down regardless in a compulsive fit of machismo and completely inappropriate guilt, and is now huddled half-blind and disgustingly miserable against the well behind the property. He's occasionally, wretchedly, trying to scoop some water into his mouth - though any passers-by may find a red-eyed and flushed-scarlet ginger who's foregone nursing his mouth entirely and has resorted to wrestling off his sweat-drenched shirt, hoisting another bucket, and feverishly dumping it over his head in pure desperation.


Wildcard

All right, so the low-tech unplugged mountain retreat thing isn't precisely Jack's idea of a vacation. But when you were used to all outdoor areas carrying a moderate-to-strong risk of death by dismemberment? Well, it makes one a little less prone to fussing that there isn't a television or sound system to be seen.

Maybe eventually he'll get tired of the simple pleasures. But for now, at least a few times a week he's trekking out to the hot springs, stripping down, and enjoying the chance at a proper soak for the first time in literal years. Apparently the water is supposed to be rejuvenating or something fancy like that, but even if it wasn't, he's glowing with the sheer lack of grey water rationing or scrubbing with sand on a literal shoreline while your mate makes sure nothing worse than a minnow's going to try to take a nibble of your toes. It may just be hot water and some rocks, but it feels like heaven, and anyone else who comes along is bound to get at least a bright wave and a cheery morning! on their way in.


Text (un: redmenace)

All right, it's past time we had a cricket league here. Who else plays? Anyone fancy knocking together a bat or two?

UN: Santa Smith

[nonstopnarcissist]

Is this a complicated euphemism or are you genuinely this interested in the sport because-

no.

Heat Wave

[connatural]

If there's one thing that seems to happen a lot in this place, it's mistakes. Dealing with lack of technology can be as bad as dealing with advance things you've never seen before. There's always those looking at sweet and innocent seeming creatures that look so familiar as to be practically pets, and then paying the price for it in blood and pain... and sometimes hormones which Ashley knows about and is not repeating if she can avoid it. Hell, she's surprised one of the guys running around here hasn't managed to do himself in with a straight razor and a need to look like a layout in GQ. Not that she's complaining about the latter.

Nor is the guy she's just kind of wandered on looking like he's going to grace the cover a magazine any time soon.

Well shit. Much as everyone talks about things here being not so bad if you're careful, finding a guy looking like he's been poisoned within what passes for city limits isn't comforting. Reaching for her hip is standard, so is the cursing that comes with the reminder that there's nothing there attached to the jeans she's commandeered for herself along with a black tee.

Dropping to one knee beside the guy, her gaze sweeping the area before reaching for his hands as he pulls off the tee.

"Hey. What's going? What did you take?" It sounds too familiar, thinking about victims of drugs and realizing that isn't likely what's happened here. "Did you touch something? Ingest it?" If she needs to make him throw up, well that's what needs to be done then.

un: The Doctor

[windsrising]

It's been some time since I last played, but I should still remember the basics.

Ty Rhodes | The Division OC

[succored]

[Heat Wave]
Foraging around in the inn kitchen had turned out to be a rather reliable way to get a meal. While being stuck in this village had numerous drawbacks, the fact that most people seemed so community oriented and generous more than made up for it. After being up since before dawn to go running which bled into various odd jobs, Ty was starving.

While he wasn’t as hopeless as he had been about cooking as he once had been, he definitely preferred eating to cooking. It looked like a large pot of stew had been left over from the daily lunch, cooling slightly on the inn’s stove, but the fragrant smell of spices drew Ty in easily.

He ladeled himself a bowlful, mouth watering, and eagerly he ate a few spoonfuls before the heat hit him like a sledgehammer to the mouth. Normally, he was fine with spicy food, had even enjoyed doing a few spicy challenges in his day, but this sort of heat seemed to coat his whole mouth. Distantly, he was aware that his mouth wasn’t actually on fire no matter what his brain was trying to convince him, but it didn’t stop him from setting the bowl down immediately and tearing through everything looking for sugar or milk.

Coming up empty handed, face red and dripping with sweat, he remembered that the fountain he had come up through wasn’t too far from the inn. Sprinting, he headed straight for the fountain, dunking his head in immediately.

After a few seconds, he came up for air, gasping and sputtering as he wiped water out of his eyes.

“How did that not help?!”



[Powers Roulette]
“Oh shi-” Ty ducked as another spoon came hurtling toward him, only to stop inches from his face, give a playful little shake, and go hurtling off back into the house. It had started this morning, with anything metal in the house groaning and shuddering when he got too close. Ty had just assumed it was the house settling or the precursor to some new weird event happening, but whatever it was, had only gotten stronger as the day went on.

The radiator in the house had started rattling dangerously whenever he got close, and the kitchen utensils had started skittering across the table towards him when he had sat down for breakfast. Once they started rocketing towards him, it didn’t take long to realize he was the source of this strangeness, and he had been trying to control whatever was going on to the best of his abilities. It was definitely imperfect however, and he couldn’t help but stiffen when he heard one of the kitchen drawers clatter to the floor with the force of the metal utensils bashing against it to escape and presumably zoom over to his orbit.

He had thought getting out of the house and shutting the door behind him would be enough distance to put between him, but the ominous sounds of multiple knives and forks embedding themselves into the wall told him otherwise. A few enterprising utensils even burst through some of the window panes, Ty catching someone else moving out of the corner of his eye.

“Watch out!”



[Text - UN: Ty Rhodes]
What would you say is the weirdest or most useless talent you have?




[WildCard!]
Choose your own adventure or hit me up at bubblepulp to plot.

un: Dumb Bitch Energy

[3ofswords]

the tea leaves thing got even more useless here

Ashley Magnus | Sanctuary

[connatural]

Power Roulette, aka why rng is bad

The days of thinking this is some kind of test are long gone. They disappeared really not long after her arrival. Right about the time she realized who else was here. That it's still going on so long quickly dispelled any hopes of that. Which left preparing. Preparing for what could be coming, and definitely preparing for the day Helen shows up and she better be able to give her a clue what's going on.

Which is how she ended up out in the woods that day, pack holding a few needed tools, and her notebook in hand. Keeping track was one of her worst traits - okay there is a small list of them - but she's not willing to let her mom down. Slipping part way down a ridge, tearing her pants and ending up falling ass over teakettle into a small creek is maybe, just maybe, letting someone down. Herself.

So when she slams her fist into the ground, she's stunned when the Earth around her shakes and rolls. Startling, scrambling to her feet which is the worst idea in an earthquake, though managing not to stumble as she watches the ripples running through the creek.

"What the..." She doesn't believe in coincidence. Not like that. Nor is she one to lie to herself about her own strength. Looking around, seeing no one, she considers her options. In the end, she slams her foot down into the shallows of the creek.

The world bucks and rumbles again.

"Oh. Come on. Who is doing that?!"

Brain Candy

The bowl of candy is so innocuous that she doesn't even think of it as she unwraps one and pops it in her mouth, hoping that the pale purple color isn't grape. It's actually a tiny bit soapy and sweet, and shrugging as she comes around a corner, nearly running into someone.

"Oh. Hey! Hi. Oh, what's that?" Pointing at something, maybe not even entirely clear, leaning in closer to get a better look.

un: a.magnus sparring partners needed before i go nuts. promise to be gentle

Powers Roulette

[borneinblood]

If it were as simple to return as all that, Druitt himself might have already done so, to be perfectly honest. Not that there's anything waiting for him at home but his inevitable death, but he has to admit to being curious, sometimes. To wondering what might happen if he tried, for all that he's finding that he doesn't entirely mind being alive again either. Even if the fact that none of them are entirely in control of their own destiny doesn't sit terribly well with him.

(He's also still not entirely pleased about what he'd seen on the list of names down in the bunker, and Helen's presence on it besides, but that rage has dimmed down from what it had been in the immediate aftermath of that moment. It's not gone and it might never be, but it's as quiet as it's likely to ever get and that's a start.)

He is, to his credit, trying to give Ashley her space. At least until he has a better sense for when, exactly, the last thing she remembers is. But the village is still fairly small, and he's never been terribly inclined to sit still anyway. And with him once again having the option of returning to what he considers to be home base with little more than a thought he has been spending more time somewhat further afield; running across Ashley might not have been his intention, but it's not something he can call unexpected either.

For a moment, he simply watches, trying to decide if the better course of action is to simply leave again. But then she speaks up, and he can't help but answer.

"What makes you think it's someone else?"

skunk drunk

[kingbellamy]

[Bellamy hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes (not counting the time it took to get out of the fountain) and he spots an animal. Back on Earth-- his Earth, he didn't see a lot of animals. Deer, big cats, there was one time there was a bear. This little brown creature is cute and Bellamy finds himself wondering if he should click his tongue at it to call it near, or kick it and continue on his way.

He ignores it, rather than the two. However, the skunk must have read his mind or something, and follows him. He doesn't notice it at first, but when he does, he turns and gives a little surprised shout. That's when the skunk sprays. He promptly passes out.]

Bruce Banner / MCU

[notsoangry]

[Bruce is out and about after checking in on the community stash. He's making notes in his head about what may or may not be useful down the road, although he imagines someone else has done that thoroughly. But Bruce is so used to keeping his own records, he couldn't help it. He's lost in his own thoughts when he hears a shout, turning in that direction with no small amount of alarm.

The doctor brain kicks in and he immediately heads in that direction. He sees the skunk wander off from a distance, and the young man on the ground. He gets on his knees next to Bellamy and checks anxiously for his pulse, his other hand placed gently on the forehead to check for a fever. What he wouldn't give for smelling salts. Or more of his medical supplies.] Hello, can you hear me?

Rose Tyler | Doctor Who

[domestic]

Heat Wave

Really, she wasn't much of a cook. She got by, but for the last several years most of her food's been take-away and delivery, or served up in the Torchwood cafeteria. She's gotten perhaps a bit lazy, and as such has taken to snagging leftovers from the kitchen whenever they're pronounced up for grabs.

This is a bloody mistake. She's two bites in before the salt hits, and it comes on slow. She lowers her fork, murmurs, "Oh. Oh my... god."

Fans her mouth a bit, but the heat just keeps climbing. Those hand-waves become a bit frantic, and she gropes for her water. Chugs the whole thing in one go. It does nothing. "Oh my god-"

And then she's up on her feet, tearing across the dining are toward the kitchen, searching frantically for milk. She upturns a pitcher directly into her mouth, and green lines of it streak down the corners onto her top.

Skunk Drunk

She happens upon the poor thing on accident. She'd taken to wandering around the woods outside of the town, a little meak exploration because that's what she does. One step over the wrong log and there it is, dusting her right in the face despite her squawk of protest. One second later and she hits the ground, remarkably just shy of bonkin' her noggin' on the aforementioned log.

She wakes up to a concerned citizen hovering over her prone body, their face fading slowly into view. When her vision clears and her eyes latch on, a sort of sideways grin spreads across her face. Music plays in her mind.

"Oh. Hello."

Bruce Banner - Heat Wave

[notsoangry]

Bruce is on his way into the inn to scrounge up something as well, yearning for the time of easy access to the internet to explain how he could help create a super bot but not build a chicken coop. He rubs his eyes, missing his glasses, and steps inside just in time to watch what was happening in what felt like slow motion. Because he isn't fast enough to warn her abut the salt, or fast enough to get her the milk, so he just witnesses it instead. Wincing in sympathy, since this exact thing happened to him not too long ago.

"I'm so sorry, we really need to put a label on that." He can't help her with the milk, but he does manage to get a rag and make sure it's clean before offering it to her. He isn't going to pat her face down for her, but at least she has access to this if she wants it. "It's a natural mineral from here, you might feel flushed for maybe ten minutes?" He hopes at least, that she didn't ingest too much of it.