Test Drive 21 (October & November)

[sixthiteration]

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→ 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

1. 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!


2. 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.


3. 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.


4. 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.

Comments

[can_fight_ugly]

It's a very comforting tone, and Anne smiles as she holds out a hand for introductions.

"Anne Weying. I admit, I am still finding my way around here. I have had my share of tense walks home, I just don't have my mace or a set of keys here ..." That, she thinks, would have made her feel safer.

"It's nice to meet you."

[covers]

Being from the nineteenth century as she is, Evie hears the word mace and thinks of something else entirely; it probably says something about her background that she doesn't find the mental image of a woman wielding a bludgeoning weapon at all alarming. She takes Anne's hand, polite and brief, her grip maybe a little firmer than might be expected — and that's when she notices the other woman's skin is warmer than perhaps it ought to be, and the small red welts along the length of her arms.

"Miss Weying," she says. "The pleasure is mine." She really is very polite, and a very decent person for being a trained killer. Evie allows a suitable pause, then, "I apologize for my forwardness, but could you tell me where you got these?"

She takes one of Anne's forearms at the wrist in a loose hold and turns it so the welts are more visible. On closer inspection, they really do look like insect bites.

[can_fight_ugly]

If Anne were in Evie's time, she probably would have been one of those women wielding a bludgeoning weapon with ease. She just happened to be in a world where most power was dealt with blows of a pen - which she was pretty good it.

"Fireflies, of all things, out in the woods. Just when you think you've found something normal they literally turn around and bit you."

It's the truth, she hadn't expected to get nibbled on by a cloud of glowy-butt bugs. But even as she lets Evie inspect her arm, she's throwing another glance out the window.

[covers]

"I've not been here long," says Evie, with a wry little smile, "but I'm beginning to doubt anything here is entirely what one might call 'normal'."

Still, fireflies: she heard something about that once, from someone here she'd been talking to about some of the bizarre things that had happened here in the past. The fireflies had appeared, they'd bitten or stung, and all at once half the village had been ill with fever and — well. Paranoid delusions.

Alarm goes off in the back of Evie's mind, but she conceals it carefully. "Are you feeling unwell at all?" is her follow-up question, because this would certainly explain the elevated skin temperature and the way Anne keeps glancing out the window as if on alert for a stalker who, Evie is starting to believe, isn't actually there. She manages not to sound accusatory — just curious and a bit concerned.

[can_fight_ugly]

"Just - a little itchy, from the bites. It's nothing, it'll go down." She's also slightly flushed with a light fever, but didn't want to admit she might be unwell; she wanted to be up and alert, if there's someone coming to get her she's not about to risk letting someone talk her into bedrest or anything of the sort.

Another glance out the window.

"No, I'm fine. Just peachy."

[covers]

"If you're certain," Evie says, trying to sound agreeable. It generally doesn't go over well to accuse someone of lying to their face, after all.

"It's only that I've heard these firefly bites have caused some people to feel ill — I was hoping you weren't experiencing any of the effects."

Reasonable, but it's also a subtle prod to see if Anne might reconsider her answer — or double down on it.

[can_fight_ugly]

"I mean, I do feel a little flushed, but that can just be because I'm nervous, about --" making a motion towards the window, indicating the obvious stalker.

But if she is sick with something, it would be a good idea to get some medication, or at least a checkup.

"You think it could be the fireflies?" Frowning slightly, looking at Evie and then down at the welts on her arm even as she tries to resist the urge to scratch them.