sixthiteration | Test Drive 21 (October & November)

→ 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

STAYING POWER - Go down to the bunker, they said. You can get yourself amazing powers from the vending machine, they said. Well, you've done that, and you've made your choice, but one thing nobody told you was that unless it's a power you're familiar with, you might be on a teensy bit of a learning curve when it comes to keeping it under control. You have a week to figure it out without killing anyone; have fun!

FORGIVE AND... - You poor thing, you've gotten into some dust moths. Not that you can remember that, because depending on how big that swarm was and how quickly you got out of it, you might not remember much at all. Better hope somebody's got some Forget Me Nots on hand.

HIT & RUN - Life in the village can be pretty sleepy... until suddenly, it's not. Were you being a troublemaker? Were you disturbing the local wildlife? Because it's now disturbing you, chasing you down the street in front of everyone. Maybe it's a herd of chupapaca or a swarm of fireflies. Or maybe you went old school and it's just a really pissed off badger. Godspeed and good luck.

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.

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The more Evie listens, the more this sounds like a story for Mr. Dickens and his Ghost Club. Either that, or this mystery stalker has the stealth skills of a Master Assassin. Naturally, there's a third possibility, which is that Anne is imagining things — but Evie is at least magnanimous enough not to immediately jump to the conclusion that the other woman is delusional.

"Whoever it is," she says, "you're safe here, I assure you." The words are spoken with the confidence of a woman who's beat the living daylights out of men twice her size and could do it again. She smiles a little and adds, "I'm Evie Frye. I don't believe we've met, Miss...?"

"You are into this."

More then you are! How will we make a good impression if we are not strong? Get your shit together!

Eddie rolls his eyes, "The door's not gonna go back on it's hinges without the screws and my dear you've ripped the screws clean off their hinges."

That is decidedly arousing.

Eddie freezes.

"...Never say that again."

Nope. Nope.

Learn from her Eddie. You are just as capable as she is, if not moreso. You are an outstanding host but this...her interest...

Nope.

"...We need Tony." or someone who can make screws.

Probably because it's easier to infiltrate a civilian population then directly removing any leadership

I was embedded with the troops. I picked up a thing or two. Win the people you win the war right?

It's a very comforting tone, and Anne smiles as she holds out a hand for introductions.

"Anne Weying. I admit, I am still finding my way around here. I have had my share of tense walks home, I just don't have my mace or a set of keys here ..." That, she thinks, would have made her feel safer.

"It's nice to meet you."

There is so much in this place that Jacob still needs to learn about. The people. The dynamics. All of the ins and outs of how this place is run. The history and the computers, as he was told they're called, are not something that he's interested in. While he knows it will help in the long run in finding their way out of here, getting back to what they should be doing, it just isn't something that he is capable of doing himself. He gets antsy and edgy and he just can't focus then.

That need to do, to move, to get involved with things to find out where they stand is important to him. For both their sake.

"Well if it was easy to understand, they wouldn't likely have gotten to the point of bringing in several assassins," he points out, not that he is any more amused by it than she is. If only for her sake.

But then she goes there and his jaw tightens as Jacob folds his arms over his chest. His head cocks to one side, giving her a pointed look.

"I really should have found someone to take a bet on that, because I definitely would have won. Not even a week, and we're already here." Not that he can outright deny it. They someone managed to bring assassins to this place, and more than one, and what did that mean about their abilities and what this place was. He can't deny that she is likely right, but that doesn't mean he's not going to give her shit for going there.

"If you think..." And he kind of pauses there, which is rude and he knows it but there's that balance between her being his sister and being unwilling to let things go, and knowing that between them they can work this out. "That finding it will help us, then look for it. Between us, we'll find the answer to this place."

Being from the nineteenth century as she is, Evie hears the word mace and thinks of something else entirely; it probably says something about her background that she doesn't find the mental image of a woman wielding a bludgeoning weapon at all alarming. She takes Anne's hand, polite and brief, her grip maybe a little firmer than might be expected — and that's when she notices the other woman's skin is warmer than perhaps it ought to be, and the small red welts along the length of her arms.

"Miss Weying," she says. "The pleasure is mine." She really is very polite, and a very decent person for being a trained killer. Evie allows a suitable pause, then, "I apologize for my forwardness, but could you tell me where you got these?"

She takes one of Anne's forearms at the wrist in a loose hold and turns it so the welts are more visible. On closer inspection, they really do look like insect bites.

She's a little impressed with herself, even, looking at the door and coming to agree that this is not any sort of an easily salvageable --

"Never say what?" She gives him a side-eye, knowing full well that he wasn't commenting on anything she may or may have not said. She was curious what was actually going on in there, but she's willing to let it slide.

"I think it might be best if you handle the Tony part of the situation; he knows you better, and someone needs to watch the door.

"I'm game with that." He puts his hands on his hips before grinning, "Hey remember that time we tried to repair the closet door in the apartment and I hit my hand with the hammer and broke my thumb? And I was so paranoid about it because I was scared I was gonna lose the ability to write? You were so panicked that you kept yelling at me."

He grins, "That's how you show concern. With yelling."

It is arousing.

"What the -hell did I say about saying that?"

He whaps himself upside the head, "Stop it love."

If Anne were in Evie's time, she probably would have been one of those women wielding a bludgeoning weapon with ease. She just happened to be in a world where most power was dealt with blows of a pen - which she was pretty good it.

"Fireflies, of all things, out in the woods. Just when you think you've found something normal they literally turn around and bit you."

It's the truth, she hadn't expected to get nibbled on by a cloud of glowy-butt bugs. But even as she lets Evie inspect her arm, she's throwing another glance out the window.

"I kept yelling because you were yelling!" She shakes her head, but she's smiling. "That's the only way you'll hear it over your own yammering, loudmouth."

Smiling, though. Dammit Eddie, why did it have to be you here?

Another argument between the bonded lovers, though, and she's got to intervene, reaching over to grab his hand and shove her fingers between his for more control, pull it away from his head. "Hey - hey. I am sure that nothing he said is grounds for this, okay? Alright?" Her other hand rests on his shoulder, gives it a gentle squeeze. It had been tempting to cup his cheek, but she's already in precarious waters here with him and she doesn't want to muddy them more than they already were.

Ah. Touch

Eddie freezes totally surprised and Venom purrs. For a brief moment there's something animal in his expression, in his demeanor and posture, something utterly inhuman before he nods mutely.

Then shakes it off.

"It likes you."

His voice is soft, "...It wants me to be more like you."

There were a lot of weird happenstances in this place, and Ty would like to say that there wasn't much that was going to surprise him here. But the sight of someone stuck to a wall, trying to look casual about it, was definitely worth a double take. Ty slowed his steps, wondering if he should laugh or be concerned.

"If I had to hazard a guess, going better for me than you at the moment. You need help down or this a hobby of yours?" Ty asked, trying not to let his lips quirk up too much.

Ah. This was a mistake. That animalistic look - that really shouldn't be eliciting the flutter that it just did, something between panic and anticipation. But she couldn't take her hands back without seeming disgusted.

She smiles at him, not forced, but melancholic. She pats his shoulder, pats his hand, and then lets go and stands back.

"Well, it's going to have to learn to like you." It's what's sensible, and from all accounts it's what's possible here in this odd world. Still, she can't help but remember her own run with the symbiote, that power. She purses her lips in the awkward silence, and then gives him a wave, "Go, get Tony, let's get this door fixed."

Despite how many times she's argued with Jacob about being off gallivanting around instead of focusing on more serious pursuits, Evie knows he's not stupid. He's actually very bright, and if he wanted to, he could help her with her research — which is probably part of what's at the root of her frustration every time they butt heads over strategy or methodology. Given enough time for self-reflection, she does realize she's expecting him to try to be something he's not — she's expecting him to try to be her, and maybe that isn't entirely fair of her.

But now, of course, he gives her that look, and that's really enough to make her lift her chin slightly and put both hands on her hips in a stubborn defensive posture she falls into almost reflexively. There may never be a time when Evie says the words Piece of Eden and Jacob doesn't choose to be, well, a bit of a tit about it.

"Jacob, really—" There's more she could say there, for God's sake would you just listen for once, but she cuts herself off forcibly. His last words visibly startle her, prepared as she was for another confrontation the likes of which they've had too often in recent memory. And then she just sort of... deflates a little bit, hands relaxing at her sides as she looks away. When she meets his gaze again, it's with a bit of a rueful look.

She'd meant it when she'd said she missed him, after they fought Starrick. She'd missed when they'd been able to work together instead of fighting each other constantly. What's most important of all, everything else aside, is that Jacob is her brother and she loves him — and maybe she ought to remind herself of that more often.

"It's a place to start," she suggests, and that's a concession to the fact that she might be wrong. "Frankly I think I'd prefer it if this place wasn't the doing of a precursor artifact of any sort." The trouble with the Pieces of Eden is they're a bit unpredictable. The Apples could control minds, impart information, bestow what looked like miracles; the Shroud, or at least the one they retrieved from Starrick under Buckingham Palace, provided virtual immortality. But there's still so much Evie doesn't know, even with all her research. If this place is the work of a person or organization instead, then perhaps that's something a bit more comprehensible, easier to define and easier to tear down.

She arches her brows a little. "And what did you have in mind for this place?" she says, an obvious attempt to bridge things between them by inviting his input. And here she smirks a little, and bumps his shoulder with hers, just briefly. "Sir Frye."

The knighthood is still new and strange, and he can tease her about it right back.

Edited (it's half past midnight and what are words) 2018-11-13 05:34 (UTC)

"By the Mothman." It's a beat too late, waiting for Rhodey to crack a joke that isn't there for the shell to shatter and it's- he swallows back the reflexive disappointment. It's temporary. It is temporary. He'll get Rhodey back and they'll laugh at this later for all that it feels like he's staring at a stranger. Everyone he's ever met, the only person that figured him out in less than an hour?

Had been Rhodey. He looked at Tony and he saw him but now?

"Yeah. It, uh. I just need to see if anyone has- and this is fucking hilarious- forget-me-nots. I'll put a call out on the network, it'll be fine." It needs to be fine he needs to be able to fix this but they're coming into the fall, what are the odds of the flowers sticking around as the weather goes cold? Is Rhodey going to be stuck like this until spring?

If Sam knew what the girl with the bright colored hair was thinking, he'd most likely be caught between preening and laughing his head off. Not that he wouldn't think of himself as an underwear model, of course, even if it was meant as a tongue-in-cheek statement; he was in good shape, if he said so himself.

But as it was, he wasn't privy to that information, and anyway, thoughts along those lines weren't at the forefront of his mind right now. What was occupying that space was mild annoyance at the brain fog that seemed to be dogging him.

"I mean, if you've got somewhere else to be, don't worry about it." Because his sudden memory lapse is no one's problem but his own. But the thought had occurred to him that he might still get lost, even with directions to his destination. "Just point me in the right direction, and we'll call it good." Maybe.

Sam might be having memory issues, but one thing he hasn't lost is his sense of humor. He lets his jaw hang open, faking horror at her response, but it's all in good fun. "Well, gee, thanks for the help, I guess. Monsters, huh?" He rubs one hand against his chin, trying to appear worried. "Guess I should hope I run into the other twenty-five percent."

But then he winks back in response, a grin coming up to replace his previous expression. "Thanks, I appreciate that. Becoming monster chow isn't exactly on my list of priorities." And as for trolling newcomers, once Sam's gotten used to this place, he'll probably be right there trolling along with her. "See, fifty percent is doable. Twenty-five's not impossible, but it is harder."

She let out a soft laugh, between her teeth. It was a rusty sound. Not exactly full of mirth. The same went for the smile that matched it. Somehow, it didn't manage to reach her eyes.

Once upon a time, Sam had pretended to be jaded, pretended that she'd seen too much to ever be wide-eyed again. Life was a bitch when it came to irony. She'd become that person. And it fucking sucked, really. Not that she had a vote.

Be careful what you wish for, and all that jazz.

"No one has somewhere to be," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the Inn as she fell into step beside him. "Anyone who says otherwise here is just kidding themselves."

"You think?" Sam doesn't mean that to sound as biting as it probably does. This is absolutely one of those things that he'll laugh about later, once he's off the wall and firmly on the ground again.

"I mean, I guess it could be worse, but really? Hanging out on a wall isn't my idea of a good time."

He pauses for a second before asking, "Have you tried it out?"

Connor watched carefully, moving outwards from the tree a few feet every now and again when Altair left his line of sight. To his well-trained eye, there were plenty of options which could all easily be reached - a series of branches to the right which could be swung upon to reach the next tree. A stubby little branch of the tree to the left which could be caught and used to pull one's self upwards.

But to someone who was used to rough stone and wooden beams, they would all likely look less than trustworthy. Altair was hardly the first person who he had aided in teaching to climb trees. Although he didn't complain about it as much as Kanen'tó:kon had.

"Is there a problem?" There was a hint of cockiness contained within his voice as he spoke, letting his voice be carried upwards.

He is totally, definitely, completely and utterly very much not a Templar.

It turns out his father is though. Guess you really can't pick your relatives.

"I was not told it would cause this." He gestures vaguely, pointing out the small area of destruction he was currently standing in, all caused by him trying in vain to control these new powers he had been given.

Tommy's not big on heavy thinking, but the logic Loki offers seems sound enough for Tommy to keep running. He does, however, now have some follow-up questions.

"How d'ya know the moths are evil? I'm guessing they did something more than chew a hole in your sweater, right?"

Billy's not the only one who's confused - Tommy is now questioning whether he's stepped into another alternate universe, one where Billy is weirder than usual. Stranger things have happened, after all.

"Well, duh, of course I'm your twin," he says, and folds his arms over his chest. "The better-looking twin, naturally." A slight snarky grin briefly curves his mouth. "Teddy's your boyfriend, or was, you guys had some kind of argument, I guess? That's what you told me happened, anyway, I wasn't there." Tommy's eyes narrow in focus on his twin, pondering what's behind this sudden shift. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"I've not been here long," says Evie, with a wry little smile, "but I'm beginning to doubt anything here is entirely what one might call 'normal'."

Still, fireflies: she heard something about that once, from someone here she'd been talking to about some of the bizarre things that had happened here in the past. The fireflies had appeared, they'd bitten or stung, and all at once half the village had been ill with fever and — well. Paranoid delusions.

Alarm goes off in the back of Evie's mind, but she conceals it carefully. "Are you feeling unwell at all?" is her follow-up question, because this would certainly explain the elevated skin temperature and the way Anne keeps glancing out the window as if on alert for a stalker who, Evie is starting to believe, isn't actually there. She manages not to sound accusatory — just curious and a bit concerned.

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Page 27 of 39

Test Drive 21 (October & November)

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I suspect they're going to learn

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Staying Power

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oh no i love these two a lot, send help

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Get off my lawn

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