Test Drive 20 (August & September)

[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

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.

[scales_and_silence]

Alex can hear the approaching footsteps, but doesn't seem to give away that he can hear them until the dog is already slobbering at his feet. With the man's assurance of canine friendliness, he extends his hand out for proper sniffing, fingers kept carefully tucked way from nipping teeth.

"So's he," he says with a nod upwards. "He is kind of part-cat, but he's been around dogs before." Then, he adds. "I have liver cubes in my pocket for him. That might be what the dogs are smelling." He shuts his notebook and tucks it into a pocket.

[oorah]

Frank nods, he wasn't worried about the griffin not being friendly, but the reassurance is noted anyway. Aretha pushes her long snout into Alex's fingers, snuffling him until she's satisfied. "Whatever it is, it made you a friend." His voice is soft, maybe softer than one might assume it would be, not that he'd ever been all that loud before Reims. He doesn't even notice it anymore, all the ways in which he's different. He works his way a little closer, motioning for Aloe to stay low and close at his heel.

[scales_and_silence]

Alex whistles, and Crow swoops down to a branch just about head-height to perch, front talons gripping while back paws and big, fluffy tail keep him balanced. A few feathers fall to the ground as he preens, as if showing himself off to this New Exciting Maybe-Friend (who might feed him). Alex hands a cube up for the beaked beast, who takes it not-quite-gingerly, but without taking any of his human's fingers with it.

He holds up a few more of the treats, and a nod down to the dogs. "There's nothing in these that would hurt them. Spoil them a little, maybe." A look back up at his pet, who's already swallowed his treat whole.

"You know, I get that your digestive system is avian enough to not have to chew your food, but you could at least stop to taste it."

[oorah]

He takes the treats with a little nod in thanks, watching as both dogs circle up to receive their orders. They know Frank well as he starts signing to them. Sit, Down, Stay and over again. Aretha knows the signs perfectly by now, but Aloe often looks to the more experienced dog before following along himself. They both end up with a liver cube and a pat on the head for their efforts. He turns when Alex addresses the bird, offering a soft snort of bemusement.

"Where did you find him? He's beautiful."

[scales_and_silence]

Crow preens, understanding if not the compliment itself, the fact that someone is looking at and admiring him. He looks down at Frank with a mix of corvid intelligence and feline curiosity. He even spreads his wings out to their full span for a few seconds, as if putting effort in to looking majestic.

"A specialty aviary in Oregon. Lesser griffins have a small enough population in the wild that artificial repopulation is getting to be necessary, but not all of them are suited to be released," he nods to his pet. "Crow's not afraid enough of humans. And is, as you can see, something of a drama queen."

And possibly just smart enough to recognize a compliment.

[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.

[scales_and_silence]

The man mostly covered by mud, leaves and some carefully arranged sticks immediately gets up, having been hiding more from the animals than from human eyes, National Geographic Photographer-Style. Minus the camera and plus one very unusual assistant.

"You alright?" Alex asks, brushing stray foliage off his clothes as he stands. There's a knife at his hip, but no other visible weaponry, and he's not reaching for it. At least, not yet. "Don't mind him, he's harmless unless you get in between him and a squirrel." He points upwards to the circling griffin.

[killorder]

Jake startles when he realizes he isn't alone, even if for a moment his eyes do not entirely register why he's not alone. Well, who is with him.

Blinking owlishly, head canting as he looks the man over with a nod. "That's some well done camo. Not sure why you're wearing it, or out here spying on something, but well done," he says, realizing he has been asked a question.

"Oh what me? Yeah. Sure. Yep. Happens sometimes. As for harmless... what even if he? I mean, even with the purple llamas and all, what even?"

Do excuse Jake. He has the social skills of a kumquat.

[scales_and_silence]

Alex continues to pick pieces of his ground cover off of his clothing. There are going to be pine needles in uncomfortable places later.

"He's a church griffin. And I guess harmless isn't the right word, exactly- he could peck your eyes out if he wanted to, but he's trained. Crow, branch," Alex points to somewhere for the big, fluffy-feathered beast to settle down, where he can be observed from a safe distance. "The only real harm he's ever done has been to my apartment security deposits, though."

There are some expenses you just learn to budget for when you're a Price. Property damage is one of the big ones.

[killorder]

Shouldering his pack, Jake considers the man before turning his attention to the cat... bird... right. Catbird. That's it, though he's at least quick enough not to say it. At least out loud. It may be repeating over and over again in his head.

"So what? They're priest pets?" Because he knows what a griffin is but they never looked like this in the... well, in the movies. Seriously that's his only experience.

His gaze slides back to Alex. "So you're what? A griffin whisperer or something?" He can't help himself. He just can't.

[scales_and_silence]

"Cryptozoologist, actually," Alex admits with a shrug. "I've been making notes on the ah- unique local wildlife," he admits, as if this isn't the most terrible idea ever why would anyone do this here why.

"The hemophagic deer are really fascinating." Which reminds him to write down one more note, something about water tables and purification. "Sorry, that was-" rude, awkward, socially inept. Any of those work.

Crow lets out a squeaky chirping sound, and it seems to startle the docile-looking nerd into extending his mostly-mud-free hand. "Doctor Alex Price, hi."

This is why they don't put him on too many school tours.

Re: Alex Price | InCryptid

[houmaprotector]

Any particular genus?

[scales_and_silence]

Anything relatively fresh, up to and including rigor.

I'll understand this ecosytem a little better once I've done some necropsies.

[houmaprotector]

You have the equipment for a full necropsy?


[That's concerning. He's been dissected before.]

[scales_and_silence]

I have something that I can make do with as a scalpel, a good pair of eyes and a notebook. It's better than nothing.

[He misses having the Mice around so, so much.]

[houmaprotector]

I've seen nothing larger then a rat and I've been spending a lot of time out here. I'm a Botanist.

I suppose however, if you want me to bring you a rat or two I can oblidge you.

[He has no qualms about killing small animals anymore.]

Or a Fox.

[Or medium sized ones.]

[scales_and_silence]

I'd prefer some of the more unique things they've got around here. Though I'll take anything that looks like natural causes.

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.

[scales_and_silence]

"You aren't going to challange me to a duel, are you?" Alex asks, looking up from his notebook, where he's sketching out some of the smaller details of a crocodog's hind leg.

"I'm going to have to insist on swords, if so. But honestly, if Dr. Banner doesn't object to your presence, I don't either. I did promise him no facial graffiti, though."

[nonstopnarcissist]

"What? No." That it was this guy's immediate go to as a solution says a lot about him- nevermind the choice of weapons. "I've already been impaled once this year, I'm over my quota. No, I was going to insist on being present. Possibly getting high with him but I don't know how well that'll work with what I'm currently rocking."

Even the dubious moonshine had done fuck and all for him the other day, so it's probably safe to say he wont' get anything out of this.

[scales_and_silence]

"That was sarcasm, but I guess it is worth noting I was on the fencing team in college," Alex says, closing the notebook in order to give Tony his full attention.

"I haven't named him yet, but the peacat's over there on the couch. He's not quite full-grown, and I still have to hand-feed him sometimes, so he's grown really used to handling."

[nonstopnarcissist]

"Anywhere else I wouldn't blink but we've got walking, talking moss, vampires that make vodka, and teleporting assholes. Someone that responds to casual accusations with threat of a duel wouldn't be the weirdest thing in the village." Or even his life in the past five years or so.

Either way.

"So he's more of a peakitten." Cute.

[scales_and_silence]

"Fair enough," Alex allows.

"Yeah, though he's old enough to be producing the pheromones- possibly a little extra-intently, if the secretions are a defense mechanism meant to induce protective instincts in other species. Considering that regular cats have a cry at the exact frequency of a human infant's- I'm not putting it above a different feline species to evolve an entirely new way to manipulate us," he says with a resigned shrug.

The peakitten perks its head up. He's at that growth-spurt stage of kittenhood, like a lanky teenager, all legs and a long skinny torso, tailfeathers only really starting to become capable of fanning. He gives Tony one of those giant-mouth-bearing yawns that momentarily make all cats look like the adorable little murder machines that they are.