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 sound of her voice was enough to make his entire body tense all at once. Sitting on the ground after hitting himself in the face was not the way he would want any interactions of theirs to go. There was a time he didn't care too much if he acted like an idiot around her, because they got each other. He was the idiot they needed, and she was the woman who kept them all together. Now he didn't know who either of them were, in general or to each other.

He never knew it was possible to hate the sight of someone and yet want it at the same time. His brain was a confusing mess or emotions and paranoia as usual. So yeah. Par for the course.

Do you care? He thought as a response, but he doesn't want to just start out throwing insults at each other right then. It was still there in his glance her way as he got up to his feet. "What time are you referencing when you didn't agree with me?" Desmond snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah, pretty much every time, right?" That was sour too, but it didn't have the same personal bite to it. It wasn't that far off how he and Shaun ripped at each other.

"There could be. The timelines here are all messed up. Meaning people who are dead can be very much alive here, if you've got any of those." Desmond had plenty of those. Desmond was one of those. He was dead and gone and this purgatory island was the only thing left to him. It was a shit deal, but there were worse. He used to hate the Assassin symbol, but it's better to think of than the alternative.

He doesn't mind the questions. It was his own fault for bringing it up. He was not typically a very open man, but this was pretty harmless. "It's complicated. I know them very, very well, and they don't know anything about me. Family hasn't done many favors for me in the past." His father was a real piece of work, and in a lot of ways, so was his mother. He was a tool to them both. Desmond figured ... eh why the hell not. She was like a bartender except he didn't get any booze. "We had this machine, it let me live through their lives like it was my own. So I don't just know things like hearing stories or reading it in a book. I've seen it all myself."

staying power;
It’d taken her a few days to make sense of what she could do, to understand how to work the ability. Lucy had to laugh at herself, it was like she was goddamn Snow White, sitting there with legs crossed, small birds perched on her shoulders and one on her knee, another on her head. Her main concern was the possibility of that one bird deciding it didn’t want to move and leaving her with some droppings as a gift. Now, wouldn’t that just be perfect, the cherry to the cake life had handed her back home.

“Alright alright, don’t everyone crowd at once,” she gently spoke to them. Feathers ruffled her cheek and she turned her face away on a small laugh. That tickled. “Easy, I wasn’t saying everyone get off. Just no pushing. There’s plenty of me to go around for you to perch on.”

Sensing that she wasn’t alone, first she looked forward at who was approaching and then glanced sideways to the large black dog. “You might want to hang back, let him pass.” Her head jerked in the direction of the animal that was clearly on guard, watching on with its ears tilting back.

Forgive and...
There she was, standing in the middle of a crossroad. How she’d get there? Well, there was always a story behind something. This story though, well, it didn’t matter so much. What mattered was the blonde woman standing with her arms spread and shouting out, “Are you serious right now?”

Who is she supposed to be? Why is she this far out? None of this made any sense.

“Hey! You!” called the woman to a passing stranger, someone she didn’t recognize but hopefully they knew her?

text; un: juno57
Tell me something about yourself. Maybe think of this like an introduction of sorts. It doesn’t have to be true..

I almost got eaten by a fourteen foot tall lizard. What about you?

He paused. Turned. And facing Desmond, he lifted his brows and, slightly, his shoulders. "I am not insulted. My presence brings you discomfort. My curiosity is not so important as to make someone else suffer for it."

Truth told, he had had enough of other people suffering for him. It had happened over and over and over again, from Kadar to Darim. No more, if it could be avoided.

"So I will leave you be, especially as you are now safe."

Desmond stared at him for a few seconds and then crossed his arms. "Do you know who Connor is?" It seems like the safest way to gauge how much of a mindfuck everything is. Why is Connor so much easier, honestly? Because he's not paternal and you have daddy issues to an insane degree, Des. Shut up, self.

Edited 2018-11-28 02:07 (UTC)

His expression shifted. Acceptance into questioning, one eyebrow arched as if wordlessly asking and why do you ask. "I met him not long ago, if we refer to the same man."

"I'm talking about a giant Native American Assassin, that ring any bells?" Desmond is no where near Connor's height and build, so for him, yeah, the dude is enormous. He always felt small when he got back into his own body after.

Well yeah. That looks pretty normal to him. It would be weirder if Connor was in jeans and a tanktop and with a modern haircut. Desmond really doesn't want to see any of that.

Des is not going to mention Achilles, nope, not even a little. A lot of what's keeping him from dealing with his ancestors is that he doesn't want to reveal too much. He's terrible at holding things back, especially when he's frustrated or word vomiting at someone, and there's no easy way of talking about how closely he knows their lives.

He smiles when he sees the flame in Connor's hand. "Is that the best you can do?" Teasing.

"Quiet with that word, Shabh." There was a thread of steel in Altaïr's voice. Not a threat but unmistakably an order. He didn't yet trust saying it publicly. Not here. Not yet. He had told Tony, and of course Connor knew. But it was not something to say aloud.

Welp, gonna go do that now. Gonna get an actual mohawk and some tattoos while he's at it.

Connor doesn't particularly mind that Desmond doesn't want to speak about how closely he knows his life. All that really matters is that, despite how distantly, Desmond is related to him, a part of him. It makes him want to be close to him.

"Says the one who keeps dropping rocks on his face." But there's a matching tease within his voice.

"Why? There's no Orders on either side here, Altaïr." Desmond spread his hands out as if to say, look, they're not here. "Or is it because people here won't like the whole killing others as a creed thing? Because I've talked to a few people, and I don't think a lot of the folks here care too much about that." He was in a mood now, that was for sure.

He felt like he was back yelling at his father about not wanting to be a pawn. "There's a whole lot of killers here," he said quietly to himself. If blood left a mark, his hands would be covered in Lucy's. "We've fallen pretty far since your time. Past Connor's time too."

Did you really? That’s almost impressive. And scary. You aren’t talking about a dinosaur are you?? And what about me? Well. I got my PhD before 24?

Dropping down from the trees a few meters away, giving up on trying to get high enough to see beyond the villages, Jacob decides to head back to the inn to try and find the others. At the very least Evie should be around, and if he has to track down Altair later, so be it, but first siblings and food.

Heading along the path, mentally lamenting for likely the billionth time the lack of true skyline in this place, it's the flutter around the woman that he first notices. Slowing his gait, hands in the pockets of the peacoat he wore, head canting as he tries to get a clearer vision of what's looking at.

Frowning a bit, more from the lack of clarity than what he's seeing than a lady sitting there as a living perch. At her voice though, he offerings his most winsome smile, pulling his hands from his pockets as if to show that he is unarmed. Though if he's showing the dog or her is anyone's guess.

"He's most welcome to go anywhere he wishes," he says, gesturing grandly with a bit of a bow. "Though if you were seeking companionship, all you had to do is ask and I would have gladly kept you company, Miss."

Dinosaur? No, it was called a T-Rexaur. Large, red, meat-eating.

What kind of PhD?

Altaïr's answer was quiet but absolute. "Never compromise the Brotherhood. The actions of one must never bring harm to all," he said, quieter, but with just as much steel. "There are many here who have killed, though I do not doubt my hands run with more red than many of theirs. But making ourselves known will turn us into a target. Already, though I find myself grateful to no longer be alone, I wonder what it means that there are so many of us. Assassins taken from the lives we lived, in some cases from the battles we fought.

"There could be a Piece of Eden behind this. And it could be in Templar hands. I cannot be sure - I never will be sure until it is seen - but caution is always better than announcing with a banner, flying a flag, or shouting from a rooftop. There are some few here I trust. And until my eyes can tell me the truth of their intentions, so it will stay."

At the mention of people who are dead, there's a shift. It's a tiny one. But her gaze goes a little brittle for a moment, the slow sway of the bottle in her hand stilling. What if she...

No. Better to not. No need to start digging open wounds that had scarred over just fine.

"...huh. Sounds like everyone else dumping their baggage on your doorstep," she finally utters after a moment, relaxing like nothing at all had happened. She did, however, take another stiff swig. "The whole line of them."

No mention of the machine, because after all, weirdness. He probably knew it already.

Desmond just shook his head and smiled with ice in his veins. "Fuck the Brotherhood. Fuck the Templars. None of it mattered in the end. Them or us, it didn't matter. We're all just pawns. Of Juno, Minerva, Jupiter, whoever the assholes are who run this place, whether they're the same. It's. Pointless." He honestly did not mean to go on a rant, but he did, every word of it running high with emotion. Really he was aware that Altaïr wasn't who he was really angry with, although some of it might be at him. He was the start, after all. The start of the end of his life.

"You can still play this game if you want, but it's rigged, and you're never going to win."

A carnivore. We call that a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Or T-Rex for short. It's considered a dinosaur, which were around loooooooooong before my time. I was studying cognitive neuroscience.

Though she doesn't know him personally, it's safe to say that even an unarmed Assassin can kill with their bare hands. They're armed with that alone. They don't need hidden blades to strike true.

"I think you're going to be up against some pretty stiff competition," she responds, brows raised. "The birds might not look like much but they got some pointy little beaks that can draw blood." They were harmless, they really were, unless she gave them an impression that she were under threat. Good thing that Lucy wouldn't do that, the man was friendly enough.

She sends the dog a look, assures him that she's safe, and is pleased when the ears perk. The animal gives Jacob a look, head tilted, and turns to head off, leaving them.

They were walking on eggshells and for good reason. There were only two ways to deal with this tension; walk away and never face it, or confront it head on. Walking away wasn’t something she would do. Lucy wouldn’t pull a Bill, she wouldn’t abandon this, whatever this was between them. As far as she was aware, things were strained because of his actions. She still had to wonder what had happened in the temple.

He wasn’t answering her question, she’d noted then, watching on.

“It wasn’t every time, Desmond.” Her side of the argument was quietly spoken, a stiff insistence.

Jacob has found that offering to show how innocent and playful he is, the less others worry about how dangerous he could potentially be. In a place like this with so many unknowns, Jacob is more than willing to play to any advantage he can.

Not that the coy smile is anything but what it seems as he settles his hands back into his pockets with a laugh at that warning. "I promise that I'll be as wary as I can of their tiny beaks and fluttery wings," he vows, even taking a single exaggerated step backwards, eyeing them with a cant of his head and eyes narrowing as if truly seeing something to be concerned about.

Like a large dog that could launch itself at him at any moment.

A brow arches though as the dog responds to a look, trotting away.

"Well, I have to say that seems a useful skill, especially in this place populated with so many curious creatures. Never had quite a hand with animals except carriage horses." Most of whom are likely delighted that Jacob is no longer in London.

Edited 2018-11-28 05:51 (UTC)

STAYING POWER
Anders had tried to resist the temptation at first. He'd of course heard mention of being able to just get magic from a machine here, but the idea had grated on him and he'd been angry and frustrated that something that had been so important, had shaped his life so much before was just... a novelty now. It felt as though this place were mocking him on purpose, flying in the face of everything he'd endured in the Circle for so long and everything he'd fought for since then, and so he'd stubbornly resisted.

Or at least tried. But the truth was that trying to live without the magic he'd been born with left him feeling as though part of his body were missing somehow. Like he were trying to use a limb that wasn't there any more. He hated it and hated how it was painfully obvious every moment he was here and eventually he found his resolve crumbling.

Which was what led to the situation he found himself in now. At first it had only been sensations and he'd been reminded of Justice, then they'd gotten louder and he'd panicked, afraid that it was the Taint coming back to haunt him, but the rush of emotion only got stronger and stronger, until Anders pressed his palms to his head and let out a cry.

"Stop! What do you want from me?!"

FORGIVE AND...
He didn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten here, Anders realised with a start, his stomach lurching and the sick taste of bile rising to the back of his throat as he tried not to focus on what that might mean. Taking a deep breath and trying not to panic further, he cast his eyes down to his shaking hands and was only mildly relieved not to see blood on them. Only a fine powder that seemed to cover his arms and hands in a light sheen.

"Must have wandered into something," he murmured to himself, sound more like he was trying to convince himself it was true than anything else. "Strange, I don't recognise this area."

Luckily he did spot another person not too far from where he was and Anders called out, waving at them. "Excuse me, I seem to have gotten turned around. Which way is Kirkwall?"

TEXT
Can someone please get this long-nosed dog thing to stop following me around? It's ugly and it's breath stinks and it keeps trying to sit on me.

That sounds cool. Just... to ask, what is cognitive neuroscience?

Bull frowns as he comes closer and sees who it is that is calling him and hears the question. The big Qunari holds up his hands, a simple gesture to show that he is harmless and then comes closer.

"You're far from Kirkwall friend." Then he frowns. "You know Hawke, don't you? Let's go find her." The news might be better from someone Anders knows than from a random Qunari.

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Page 36 of 39

Test Drive 21 (October & November)

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lucy stillman | assassin's creed

Text - un: FormerPilot

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Text - un: Juno57

Staying Power

Text - un: FormerPilot | Nida - Final Fantasy

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Yes COME TO ME JACOB FRYE 🙋🏼‍♀️✨

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Nothing about this can ever go wrong. Nope.

Anders | Dragon Age 2

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Forgive and ...