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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Does a mercenary count? I am often compared to the heroes of old.

[ modesty. never really been one of kassandra's strong points. ]

Edited (because usernames are good) 2018-11-21 13:11 (UTC)

"For a moment I thought I had found Eurus."

Not entirely; she's not enough of a believe to actually really think that she was going to find a god wandering around this place. And if she did, it probably was not going to be the god of the unlucky east winds. It was the whirlwind that had attracted her attention; anybody who spends as much time sailing as Kassandra does learns to pay careful attention to the weather and to its moods and turns.

Even once the whirlwind dies down, Kassandra is still cautious about stepping out of the cover of thw forest. It's only after the wind has very definitely died down to a breeze that she steps into the clearing and looks over at the girl, her eyebrows raised high.

"It seems that the powers device really does work."

As in one of those assholes that kills people for the highest bidder? Not even close.

[Oh, something they have in common then.]

It's possible that he's rolling his eyes at you right now, Jacob. Extremely possible.

"It makes more sense to care for those of us who are already here than it does to expand the energy to bring in more." Hello this is totally a logical agreement right here.

Not that he trust their 'host' as far as he could likely throw them, but he also doesn't think they've basically brought them all here to main themselves and others.

"It did not seem wise to try it indoors." One building starts on fire. And then another. And the next thing you know the whole village is on fire. Plus he absolutely avoids getting to close to it as is.

"It will come with time." It was a skill that he had learned young and therefore had many years to hone. Seeing patterns in the trees which might hold one's weight was very different than seeking them out in stone.

"It is very different to climbing stone or walls. When I first traveled to the city, it took me a while before I was able to climb things with ease."

It's kind of hard to see where that voice is coming from, or even that there's one coming at all over his cursing, but somehow he manages to hear it anyway, and his head darts around, until it lands on the guy near the house.

"Shut up! I'm figuring it out!" He's not. This is a damn mess. But at least the blow to the stomach seemed to knock enough wind out of him that he must have shut off the power, for now at least, because there's nothing clinging to him anymore, he's just surrounded by a sea of metal objects.

He stands, kicks a pot and watches as it flies down the street with a sense of satisfaction, before he turns his attention again to the stranger. Cuts. Right. He has some of those. He probably should get patched up. Who knows what weird ass infections he might catch in this place. And that sure as hell isn't going to be what kills him.

"Yeah, fine."

The BAMF sound of suddenly-displaced air, followed by the scent of brimstone smoke announce the arrival of what... kind of looks like what you'd get if you crossed a tiefling with a dark elf, and added a fine layer of velvet-like fuzz.

He's brandishing a pair of rapiers (thank you, Herr Stark)- though one of them is held in his tail instead of his left hand. "Sorry to startle you, but it appears you may appreciate some assistance." He has what sounds like a Zemnian accent, but with the sort of faded affectations of someone who's grown used to speaking Common more often than not.

He appears to be doing his best to look non-threatening, despite his unusual (for his world's) appearance, and the fact that he's holding a pair of blades- which are helpfully held toward the cat.

Kurt doesn't blush, exactly- and he carries off the nervous laughter more smoothly than, say, a certain Ferelden fellow. He's not embarrassed, so much as simply surprised. And flattered. His gaze may be hard to read, but his body language is an open book once you've studied it for a few minutes. Possibly something he's gone out of his way to do, attempting to counter-act his frightening appearance by making his personality as visible as possible.

"Well, I would hate to be the cause of someone's fall. I'm far too inclined to catch falling people, it would get tiresome after a while."

Ok, so he's not that smooth. But at least he's pretty.

"A pleasure, The Doctor," he says, without too much reaction to the odd name- he is, after all, Nightcrawler to most people. "Or can I just use Doctor? I have found most people whose names start with The often prefer that in conversation," he shares, bowing gallantly with his tail extended up in an arch so that the spade hangs over his head.

He offers her a hand. "I should warn you, people often feel physically ill after their first experience teleportation with me. I will not judge you for throwing up, but do ask that you direct it towards the ground. It's very difficult to wash out of fur." He smiles, and extends his hand. "Where would you like to go, Fraulein?"

What if they use their abilities to help others?

[ Gods, if she's contemplating this conversation, she's been speaking too often to Sokrates. ]

So what? Anybody who helps someone just because they easily can is a hero now?

The threat was one he took seriously. And when he heard and then saw the woman in the tree, he quickly followed suit, leaping up and landing lightly on a branch, eyes on the wolves below.

And then, carefully, branch by branch, he made his way over to her tree.

"Thank you for the warning, Okhti."

"I can see that." Ty said smartly, trying not to look too amused, but being an outsider to this was a whole lot funnier than being the one affected by it. Cutlery only seemed dangerous when it had been chasing him. But at least it looked like it was under control for now, metal carpeting the road around the guy. It was impressive he was still able to move with all of that weighing him down, but it might be best not to mention it. It might jinx whatever control this guy had just gotten.

"If you think you have it under control, you're welcome to come inside." Ty said, leaving the door open as he headed back into the house. He'd been collecting spring water to see how long the healing effects of it would last, and even with his few weeks of experimentation, it was obvious it was best straight from the source, but the effects were still in place even days down the road.

He picked up one of the jars full of his most recent sampling as well as a few strips of cloth, heading back out.

"This is most effective if it can soak into your skin."

i. fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

There is something Vanessa is meant to remember.

Ethan.

The thing inside her ripped like the animal in him, clawing to escape and to be put down, but she had done that. She had given herself up to him in ways that she would never give to the dark brothers, and then there had been peace. Or something like it. She suspects that there would never truly be peace, but there was no thick fog permeating the air, no death trailing her like a cloak.

There had been moths, something that would belong to Dr. Sweet, in his house of night creatures, but how they had swarmed her. How they began to steal from her. Fallen to her knees, her prayers can no longer help her.

Her. Who is she?

She is Amunet. She is Vanessa Ives. She is beholden to Dracula, king of the night creatures.

Or is she simply a woman who lost her way, one who dreamed of a home and a warmth that had not filled her in her whole life. Grasping wildly at that, she feels it slip away from her. The dust diminishes, and then it is lost.

She is lost.

On her knees, she casts a pained look upwards to the shadow of someone passing, feeling hollow and yet familiar. It is not unusual for Vanessa Ives to be possessed by something else. It is unusual for her to be devoid of anything at all. "Do you know who I am?" she asks, voice small and full of pain, innocence holding to her question. She is, for the first time, free.

It will not last, she fears.

ii. the ancient teachers of this science

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

How can we have such progress and yet, be so tied to the past? Has anyone explained, yet?

Kassandra does not need the woman's words or tone to know that something is wrong. A misthios who can't tell danger when it's presented to them is a misthios who doesn't last long.

Or at least has to fight many more battles than they might if they were more circumspect. So Kassandra does as she's asked. She's not a particularly good actor, so she doesn't do it terribly subtly, but it's passable, at least to anyone who doesn't really know her tendency to treat even serious matters as something like a joke.

"So," she says, linking her arm through Anne's and changing her pace to match her new companion's, "what is it that we are not looking at?"

gotham

thats on earth

Goddammit, Tash, I haven't even had one daiquiri yet.

I only met him a few times, but I don't think he probably knew what he was doing. Doubt he was comfortable with it.

Tony and I both have good genes in our favor. My mama doesn't look that much older than me these days. Or, she didn't - not the last time I saw her.

Air Force, since I was twenty-one. And I know that if you were embedded with troops on the ground they probably instilled in you a healthy level of skepticism towards those of us in planes or at sea, but I've seen plenty of blood, sweat and tactics.

"He's a chicken shit, you mean." Rhodey's voice is dry, almost pleasant, really, but the truth is that anything about Thanos makes him seethe to be free of this place. It's maybe a little bit why he's plunked the points down for a power. Unlikely as it is to work, strange as it may seem to many, he's desperate to get back to war. This place isn't an escape when he has to keep up the hope that they can bring back what Thanos took away.

He keeps that all behind his teeth, but the resulting silence isn't exactly in character for him. Most of the time, Rhodey's got a quip or a comment at the ready. It's a second before he says anything, and it's about Ross. As much as Ross is a dangerous topic for Bruce, he's a safer one for Rhodey than the Hulk and thinking about Thanos.

"We needed checks and balances, some of the others didn't really want to admit that. I get why." His lips curve into a humorless smirk. "Ross isn't any kind of real check or balance, but like you said - there weren't any good choices." He wonders if Tony would have made a different one if Bruce had been there, but in the end, he doesn't think that's really what divided the Avengers. Tony had come out of it hating Steve Rogers as much as he'd ever loved him as a friend, and he hadn't talked about it to Rhodey. But it didn't take a genius to know that had been personal.

Bruce and Peter aren't names he remembers - hell, if he doesn't remember Tony, he's not going to remember Bruce Banner or Peter Parker, or any other people named Bruce or Peter. It doesn't mean he doesn't try for a second, and the confusion on his face is definitely visible.

He takes and releases a breath.

"Cool," he says dryly. He picks up the tea and takes a sip, and in that instant knows he definitely prefers coffee. "I'm hoping that the playing around is fruitful, because this? This is shit the way it is."

"Nothing's ringing any bells? MIT? Air Force? Mama Rhodes' Sunday Brunch?" Tony digs around in the kit, squinting at the scrawled handwriting on vials and bottles and- here. There's one. He gives it a shake, stepping back around to uncork it and pour an ounce into Rhodey's tea. "No real dosage written so just. Sip until you start to remember."

It's the best option they've got right now- and it sucks. It's balls. "I'm going to be so offended you forgot me when you're back to normal. I'm going to be inconsolable. Heartbroken. I'm going to mope for weeks."

He's a very unique and interesting man, let's leave it at that.

Well, whatever it is, it's suiting you. I'll be glad to have the extra set of eyes on Tony, as well, you know. It's handy, getting to have a break.

Staying Power

It didn't take much to get him interested in the bunker and going down there. He's suspicious of this whole damn situation, and this doesn't really do anything other than make him more paranoid about it. But apparently they're giving out super powers, and Desmond peers at it a long time before saying to hell with it. He's never had powers in the strictest sense, and whatever, maybe as a kid he thought about being a superhero instead of being an assassin. He's not sure his situation can get any worse at the moment.

He goes with telekinesis because it doesn't seem that bad, but it only takes a very brief lesson on uncontrolled telekinesis in a close space like the bunker to get him out and in the open. It takes concentration but he's not doing so bad with rocks, letting them juggle around each other very slowly. His focus has been trained through the years, but when he tries one rock too many, he feels strain in his head and blinks. They all come down, one right into his face, accidentally.

Desmond sits there for a moment and sighs, rubbing the red spot on his head. "Yeah, seems like par for the course."

Hit and Run

Desmond has gone up against a lot of dangerous and bad people in his day, but not a one of him scared him quite as much as the creepy little deer who looked his way. He saw the teeth. He saw those beady hungry eyes. They all looked at him at once, and he felt like they were those killer dinosaurs, the ones too many people underestimated. Could he kill one or more of them probably, but they looked like they were fast, and he doesn't want to die again, his time eaten by terrifying deer-looking chupapacas. So he ran.

Luckily he still was very much comfortable with his climbing skills, parkouring up the nearest tree with minimal effort and staring down at them. They stared back at him. Absolutely unnerving. "Not today, creepy Bambi!" They seemed like they were heading away, but Desmond stayed on the tree branch for the time being. That's probably what they wanted him to think.

Edited 2018-11-25 00:55 (UTC)

There was a rustle and a sway of the tree as another weight joined him in the tree branches, though obviously not from the ground. No, there were too many of those strange little deer for that. He'd been putting forth effort since meeting and working with Connor and since escorting the mining expedition to the north - effort at working his way through the trees without touching the ground. Impossible at times, but he'd found a few routes he trusted.

"I see they have spotted you," he said in way of a greeting, standing on his chosen branch and leaning one shoulder against the trunk.

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Page 32 of 39

Test Drive 21 (October & November)

text un: misthios

Staying Power

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Oh my god now bad novice

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Hit and Run

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Hit and Run

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Vanessa Ives | Penny Dreadful

Hit & Run

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Desmond Miles | Assassin's Creed

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