sixthiteration | Test Drive 21 (October & November)

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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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

'A hardcore lady' is not in fact the worst description of Natasha Romanoff. She knows who she is and what she can handle, and the fact that that limit is quite a bit higher than it is for most people is part of the reason she can face situations like this without blinking. Well, maybe a little bit of blinking. The way this guy moves is pinging all sorts of alarms in her head, even if the way he speaks is at odds with that weird posture, the terrible jokes not matching up with the rest. She can't quite resist an eyeroll, even as she doesn't take her focus off him. The buffalo thing is a known quantity, even if it is an unwanted one; she knows what it is and what it thinks and feels, even as she doesn't exactly know how to extricate herself from it. This guy--he's an unknown, and unknowns are dangerous, in her world.

"More like they're into me. I'm used to guys like that not wanting to take no for an answer," she says, still flippant even as she mentally flips through her options for getting out of the room, evading both this guy and the creature outside, running inventory on her weapons. Depleted as they are. But it's difficult to keep that tally running when he's clearly erratic, not making sense.

She's never regretted asking questions. The answers are always worth it. And yet, she knows before she even asks this question that no part of this answer is going to be something she doesn't regret.

"What the hell is that going to do?"

"It's how you move cows."

He raises his arms up and begins waving back and forth, "We gotta try herding it I think. You've never herded cows?"

"Do I look like the kind of person who's ever herded cows?"

On the bright side, the groffle does seem to respond to Eddie's motions and stops trying to push his way through the door. On the less bright side, his response doesn't seem to be any sort of herding reaction, just...mild confusion. Maybe a hint of suspicion. It's hard to tell, but this thing does not look impressed at all with Eddie's mad flailing. Neither does Natasha, for that matter.

He shrugs, "Look it's either that or kill the thing-"

Yes! Kill it! We can live off it for days! Share it with the humans!

He drops himself to the floor and clenches at his gut. Venom can't come out. He wants to, that's what this is but this place - only at night. His stomach curls.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it..." His throat works and he tries to roll away. Here's hoping she flees, "stop it stop it stop it!"

One minute the guy is jumping around and waving his arms, the next he's on the ground curled up and looking like he's going to start convulsing any moment. She should leave. He's clearly not okay. And yet, here she is. Maybe she's been an Avenger too long. Never mind the fact that the Avengers are now a thing of the past, but he looks like he's in pain, and she's too used to not running away these days. At least she moves closer to the door as her hand casually drops towards the knife at her hip, closer to the animal that's now stopped trying to get in and is now backing away warily, much in the way Natasha is.

"What's wrong?"

No. No. We're not going to eat the cow-thing

We can eat her. Wait until night. Spring our teeth. Eat her raw. Eat them all raw. Eddie...This place is strange...it's frightening. It's far too...too green

"No!"

I will kick you out of here. I swear to god I don't care how much it hurts I will lock myself in a room somewhere and have them chase you out-

Can't! Eddie can't leave us! All we have is Eddie! Where would we go?! This isn't home!

The feeling of isolation is so overwhelming he weeps, squeezing tears out over his cheeks.

when his eyes open they're bright white and they swim with black veins.

I'm not going to leave you. All right? I'm not. I just.

"...We-"

He tries to climb to his feet and fails. His eyes have gone normal.

"...We need...We need to be locked up. Now."

Eddie! No! We're a secret! Eddie I can't protect you if people know about me!

"Right now."

We, he says, and she'd say dissociative identity disorder, if it weren't for that flash of white eyes and crawling black veins. The sheer sight of that, however short, is enough to make her pause where she is, balancing on her toes, running through a list of options lightning-fast in her mind. Running is a bad idea. She doesn't know what he is, doesn't know if she can outrun him. Pulling the knife at her belt might not be the best idea either; whatever he is, whatever's going on, she doesn't want it to recognize her as a threat. She's worked with the Hulk for long enough that she can recognize these behaviors when they start to manifest. It isn't enough to have a handle on the situation, not by a long shot, but it's enough to at least let her get a finger on the pulse.

Her voice is as neutral as she can make it, and there's a subtle shift in her shoulders, in the way she holds herself as she watches him, wary. She isn't prey, but she's not the enemy. For all that he looks human, whoever the other half of that 'we' is probably isn't. "Don't know if you've looked around lately, but there's not really any cells nearby," she says, though she does consider the sturdy-looking front door. No point. There's a giant window right next to it. "Can't really lock you up without a place to do that. What else can we do?" Include herself in that 'we.' It's always safer to make them consider you a part of the arrangement.

I like her. She is smart. Tell her what we need Eddie.

"...GodDammit You son of a fucking parasitic alien piece of shit...I'm sorry I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

...That hurts Eddie.

I know. I know I'm sorry.

Just work with me.

And be labeled a freak?

She already knows. And I don't think you're a freak. Isn't that what matters?

The man on the ground stretches out straight, "...We need to eat. And it has to be alive."

You owe me so big you pile of space goo. If I get sick...Or ousted. Or killed...

We won't let them kill you. You won't die.

He rolls over, hands on the dirt, "...Fish maybe? That seems t-to work best. I-"

"...Aw c'mon you don't have to look at me like I'm crazy. Okay. I might be. It's...It's a long fucking story."

Test Drive 21 (October & November)

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