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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His answer is expected, but something about the way he answers worries her. He's always been guilty of taking too much on himself, and she isn't sure if that's the case here. It seems like he's putting up literal living barriers to keep everyone else here out, and to keep himself distracted from having to deal with them.

"No more mayor, then." It's a soft observation, as she carefully creeps over toward the strange machine to peek inside and look it over.

"I'm not sure I'd be able to deal with the loss of control."

She doubts it's actually about control with him, but from what she knows about Frank, she's certain that he's a man that needs to feel in control to feel safe. She wonders how safe he feels here, after everything they went through in Reims.

He swallows, staring down at his leather bracelet that had somehow come here with him. He still carries around his picture too of the Liebermans (and Max) and right now it feels like a stone in his pocket.

"I was never in control," he points out, thinking back to that night he built her a wall so she didn't have to sleep in the middle of the house with no privacy. It's obviously a lie. Everything in that community was under his purview to some degree, and she knows it too.

"No," she agrees, looking over his direction. Her attention shifts from the popcorn maker and onto him as she crosses her arms over her chest, trying to figure out the most tactful way to say what's on her mind.

"But people need to feel like they have control over something to feel a sense of security. And I don't think you have that here."

So much for being tactful. She means well, all she wants to do is help him and make sure he's alright. "But just because you're not taking care of Reims anymore doesn't mean that you have to close yourself off."

He bars his arms to mirror her, folding them close to his sides in a self-administered hug. As ever, she's hit the nail on the head after five seconds of being around. Reims was a dark and terrifying place, but he'd understood it. The way it operated and the people who lived there. This place is a mystery and most people just didn't seem that concerned in figuring it out.

"I do what I can," he starts with, thinking she's criticizing him for not doing enough for these people. He knows he doesn't do enough, but it's because he can't handle it. Every time he attempts something bigger than an animal pen or cooking for an event, he also feels compelled to run away. The pent-up anxiety is making him spiral out in his own mind and he knows he's in trouble. His heart starts racing and he starts thinking erratic thoughts. The moment he's thought It'd be easier to be a dog right now is the moment all 200 pounds of Frank Castle shifts before her eyes into a wild creature and starts to back away.

Aloe and the croc-dog begin to sniff around him and he's kind of trapped. He hadn't told her about going to try the vending machine himself not because he was trying to hide it but because he's so used to focusing on other people. His own shit never seems to matter here anyway.

Well.

She certainly isn't expecting that to happen. Clara's eyes go comically wide as she watches Frank transform, and she takes on a slightly cautious pose when she realizes just what he's become. This place is strange, and having him shift this way makes her wonder if any of it's real at all. Maybe she's still in Reims, just having some sort of fever dream. The thought of that terrifies her, but she knows that she has to be in control right now.

"So you're a werewolf now, then?" She puts on her best teacher voice, complete with arms over her chest. "Hate to break it to you, but we're still having this conversation whether you're howling or speaking. Starting with what in the hell you did to end up being able to do this."

He lets out a low growl in warning, and that makes the animals disperse. Apparently, he doesn't like being called a werewolf. He didn't even know that about himself okay. Suddenly, without warning, Frank is pushing thoughts into her head. He had heard from others it was possible and the veil seemed especially thin of late, but he hasn't actually experienced it until now.

Vending machine. Same as you. The thoughts are low and gravelly, just like his voice, and the coyote tips his head and sits back on his haunches, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

Just when she thinks there's going to be a scuffle she's going to have to break up or run away from, the other animals retreat and Clara's left staring down a wild animal. A wild animal that can talk in her head, apparently.

"Oh my stars," she breathes out the words, giving him a wary look. "This is basically Twilight, without the vampires."

He doesn't seem inclined to try biting her at least, so she steps in closer to try and press her hand against the top of his head.

"How do you suppose we go about getting you to turn back?"

The coyote opens its jaws, but then snaps them shut again. Twilight. It's probably not her imagination if she hears a snort in her head. All of that is quickly abandoned when she pets him though, and Frank's head tilts into the contact, seeking more of it. Why is that so nice?

Now that the brief wash of panic has passed, when she mentions turning back all it takes is him thinking about being human again to do just that. It's almost instant, and he narrows his eyes as he stands back into his full height, biting into his lip at the feeling of her fingers tugging through his hair.

"Better?"

It's potentially awkward to have him standing in close while she's up on her tiptoes in order to have her hand pressed into his hair, but she supposes it could be worse. He could be naked.

"Why did you turn in the first place?"

Her fingers tug and thread through his hair one more time before she leans back to pull away. She's still focused on the root of the problem here, trying to sort out what's on his mind and how he's feeling.

"Were you trying to run from talking about yourself?"

He closes his eyes briefly, ducking his head anyway as she pulls her hand away.

"I guess," he manages, forcing himself to catch her gaze again. "No one controls shit here, Clara. Reims was dicks okay, but it made sense. There were rules. There was routine. This place is just..." What it is. Bullshit, mostly.

"This place is just people existing," she finishes the thought for him, giving a sigh. Back home, she could pretend to be Mary Poppins and fix things for others. Hell, even in Reims she was able to do that for the children. But she can't do that here, because there's a startling lack of actual children combined with the fact that everyone seems content to just go about their day to day lives here.

"Just because others are content to let this place be like purgatory doesn't mean we have to. "

Her hand reaches out to briefly touch at his. Whether he likes it or not, they're in this together.

Frank looks at her hand over his, not pulling away, but not returning the contact either.

"There's not really another option. Not that I've found anyway." He swallows. "You're cleverer than me, you figure it out." His brows knit together as he wishes that had come out lighter than it inevitably did.

"Of course I'm cleverer than you are," she easily retorts, giving him a look that says it clearly doesn't need to be said. "But I'm not asking you to figure anything out."

She turns to retreat, almost like she's just going to up in leave. In reality, she's looking for signs of his animals and where they all scattered to. But before she makes it too far, she's glancing back at him over her shoulder. Concern is clearly written on her face, and she almost regrets having to ruin the day by attempting to force him to speak at length.

"I'm telling you that you've got to get whatever it is in your head out in the open, so you can find a way to live a life again."

Maybe that wasn't fair of him to say, but he can't open his mouth to apologize either. He worries his lip, pushing a hand through his hair when it seems like she's leaving the room. The croc-dog is sitting at the base of the stairs waiting for the cat to come back down, but Frank knows she won't until Kamala gets home anyway. Aretha is sleeping under the table and Aloe is sat by the window with his face through the curtains so he can monitor the goings on of the neighborhood.

"You don't wanna hear what's in my head," he protests obstinately, trying to suppress all his negative thoughts before they can come to the fore with the potential of her overhearing them. "I'm just... glad you're here, as fucked up as that is."

She can practically see the wheels in his head turning, and she frowns in disapproval as he acts his usual stubborn self. "Oh, it's terribly fucked up," she reassures him, reaching over to push her dainty hands against his bulking chest. He doesn't budge, of course, but the playful gesture makes the moment feel lighter anyway.

"But I suppose I can't blame you. You're lost without me, I wager."

It's insanely egotistical of her to say, but that's the point. To lessen the burden of whatever is on his mind by acting like a fool. It worked for the Doctor time and time again, and it can work for Frank too. Men that are burdened with the weight of the world need the distraction.

"The Doctor told me once that every lonely monster needs a companion. Lucky for you, I'm good at being a carer."

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Test Drive 21 (October & November)

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