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

» FORGIVE AND FORGET;

Honestly, he's not entirely sure how the entire thing occurred to begin with. One moment he was going about his daily activities, and the next he was being greeted by a swarm of dust moths sprinkling their magical powder all over him.

He remembered most things - okay, so he remembered roughly the first twenty years of his life, but the last two or so were a complete and total blur. There was nothing there but a jumbled mess of images that he couldn't see clearly.

Which left him wandering around the compound looking utterly lost, because this wasn't the homestead and none of these people were the ones who should be there. Occasionally stopping some poor soul to ask them jumbled, although perfectly polite questions; where is he? how did he get there? what the flim flam is going on?

» STAYING POWER;

Go to the bunker they said. It'll be fun, they said. You'll get shiny new powers.

No one mentioned anything about the fact that he would have to learn how to control them entirely on his own. The machine could have at least spit out an instruction booklet or a welcome to your new abilities pamphlet.

So here he is, trying to figure out how to deal with the fact he can suddenly create fire in the palm of his hand without killing anyone or setting the entire place on fire. Needless to say, it isn't going well.

» WILDCARD;

[Dealers choice! Come at me with anything my body is ready.]

» TEXT; UN: AQUILIA;

I am in need of materials. If anyone is able to provide, there are things I can offer in trade.

A lack of control in powers is one thing in this place that somehow Jacob has learned a lesson from. If by learned one understands that he just hasn't done it yet, not that he won't despite all he's seen from others. For now though, he's still trying to survive from the acts of others.

Which is really a delightful turn around from being the one subjecting his sister to so many of the things where he rushes in where angels fear to tread.

The thing is, angels fear to tread into Hell, and with good reason. Flames.

So when strolling along turns into a sudden wash of flames before him, Jacob reacts rather than acting. Spinning away, ducking down and lashing out with one foot almost blindly and probably not nearly close enough to hit anyone.

Which is probably for the best, honestly, considering that 'anyone' is built like a brick house and likely would have hurt Jacob's foot far worse than it hurt him. It would have made a pretty entertaining story, though.

Connor had been trying - and the keyword here really is trying - to concentrate on creating a tiny little ball of fire no bigger than his palm. Start small, perhaps, and then slowly work his way up. Only this wasn't small or slow and suddenly there was a wall of flame before him taller than he was.

It dissipates quickly, however, mostly due to his own surprise at having created anything quite that spectacular, only to spot the unlucky victim who had been trapped on the other side.

"Sorry." It sounds sincere enough, even if it hardly makes up for almost setting someone on fire.

Staying where he is, crouched down, on the balls of his feet and at the ready, Jacob watches the man to be sure that it is a case of accident and not identity. Despite so many reassurances, he's not willing to accept this place is beyond the work of the templars.

Not that the man looks anything like one, he realizes as he rises with that apology.

"No apology needed. I mean, we all lose control of our ... Nope, going to guess you've been playing with the machine, haven't you?" Okay, maybe he's a fool for avoiding that. Though for the sake of his ego and lack of humility, maybe it's a good thing.

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.

"Yeah, well, let's assume that warning people that their magical ability machine might be a danger to themselves and others is likely not on their radar. What do they care if their prisoners blow one another up? Come on. They'll just kidnap some more," he says in bright cheery tones that don't match the darkness in his expression.

"Tried a bit smaller? Maybe in a fireplace or some such? Maybe if it's where fire's meant to be it won't get so bad?" It's a theory, and one he wouldn't know if might work or not, if only that he's yet to toy with that machine.

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.

"You would think, and yet..." He gestures towards Connor's hands. "Obviously they're not. They're risking you, and others, and probably got people everywhere, watching." What's the point if they're not watching, after all.

"But least a fireplace is bricked. What about down at the smith? Seems the place is built for fire, after all."

The tree they both stood at the foot of was...

In a word, it was magnificent. There were orchards in the Levant, certainly, and a smattering of evergreens, but the whole of this place was so green that, from time to time, Altaïr kept finding himself amazed. The skinny poplars of Masyaf had nothing on these trees, and that meant one thing:

Practice.

"These are more like the trees of your land, aren't they?" he mused, reaching out to rest his five-fingered hand against the trunk. The branches were thick, certainly thick enough to hold weight, and the bark was rough enough to give fingerholds and grip for feet, but with how widely spaced they were, practice would absolutely be necessary.

While the tree they had chosen was perhaps a little bit higher and more difficult than he would have recommended for someone used to skinny little sticks blossoming up from the ground, it was the one with the sturdiest branches and the most footholds. It would prove little challenge for him considering how closely it resembled the trees that grew around his village and the homestead.

"Yes. They resemble them closely." They even seemed to bloom the same bright green. "I am certain you will catch on quickly. It is not difficult once you get used to it."

"The principle will be the same, but no branch grows flatly in a straight line," he said. "Up, down, left, right - that is what will take acclimation. But climbing..."

He'd been looking at the tree for long enough to evaluate the limbs. He could see the one easiest to reach, but it was isolated and had none near it to climb to. Which meant he would ignore that particular offering and chose another.

Altaïr did not hesitate. He ran at the tree, choosing his location, and took a handful of steps up the trunk, leapt sideways, and found his footing on his chosen branch. The unevenness he'd mentioned made him glad he'd worn his soft-soled boots so his feet could curve slightly, finding purchase. "This is simple enough, especially so close to the tree itself."

Even the isolated branch could be climbed, considered he could spot the marks in the bark which would serve has hand and foot holds upwards. But there is another route, easier seen and climbed, better to start with for now.

"Easily said when you are only ten feet off the ground." It would grow more difficult as they went higher, and the branches they would need became more widespread and thin.

But was that a challenge? It was probably a challenge.

Though he'd grown wiser with age, having this youth again, having his abilities back - it made him more likely to take those challenges and run with them. So he did. He bounced from the limb he stood on to the next higher up, and then again, and again. It was only when the next branch gave a little under his foot that he wavered, slightly more than halfway up the tree. That was when he paused and had to consider if he'd gone past the point of wisdom. He cast his gaze to the next tree, and another, to see if their branches would be wider and more sturdy.

And to his eye, less trained by trees and more trained by stone and jutting beams, he saw nothing that he would immediately trust.

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 heard the confidence and couldn't blame the young man for its presence. After all, to him, this was second nature. To Altaïr, trees this tall were a rarity. "A living thing holds my weight," he answered, "and I can feel it bend beneath me." He wasn't holding to the trunk. The branch still held him, and his balance on it - even as high as he was, was impeccable. But--

"I can see no path from here. Will you lend me your experience, Akhi?" Without a trace of shame or embarrassment, Altaïr asked for that much assistance, even crouching to look to his fellow Assassin who was watching him from the ground.

Where Connor had been confident bordering on cocky just moments before, those fell away completely as Altair asked for his help and instruction. There was no reason to make an attempt at shame or embarrassment. They were both assassins - and while his wild bravado and pride would often lead him to think he was untouchable, he was not afraid to admit that Altair was better. This was something he could teach him in return.

"You must use the over-hanging branches to swing across." Pointing towards the thick, roping branches as he spoke, ensuring that Altair could follow easily. "They lead near enough to the next tree."

At Connor's words and his indication, he looked up, and now-- "Ah. So I see. These are the patterns my eyes need to learn." And then, after a low sound that might have been a chuckle, he shook his head. "This land is so different from any I've known..."

But then he was moving again, jumping to the first, swinging to the next, and the next. As he moved, he gained a better understanding of what he could do when, how far each swing could take him, and how much momentum he could trust. At one point, he swung too near the end of a branch and it began to droop under his weight, but he was able to move nearer the trunk before the branch gave way--

"And something I will still need to practice, I see," he said after finding that thicker branch on the next tree and gaining his footing there.

"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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Test Drive 21 (October & November)

Connor » Assassin's Creed III

Staying Power

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Wildcard because hiiiiiiiiiiii

Excuse me you can't just do what you want

I entirely can.

Kids these days

Neener.

Get off my lawn

/walks on grass

/shakes stick at

/bites stick

Oh my god now bad novice