The Sixth Iteration (
sixthiteration) wrote2018-09-28 08:28 pm
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Test Drive 21 (October & November)
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:
→ 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.
→ 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.
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.
Desmond Miles | Assassin's Creed
It didn't take much to get him interested in the bunker and going down there. He's suspicious of this whole damn situation, and this doesn't really do anything other than make him more paranoid about it. But apparently they're giving out super powers, and Desmond peers at it a long time before saying to hell with it. He's never had powers in the strictest sense, and whatever, maybe as a kid he thought about being a superhero instead of being an assassin. He's not sure his situation can get any worse at the moment.
He goes with telekinesis because it doesn't seem that bad, but it only takes a very brief lesson on uncontrolled telekinesis in a close space like the bunker to get him out and in the open. It takes concentration but he's not doing so bad with rocks, letting them juggle around each other very slowly. His focus has been trained through the years, but when he tries one rock too many, he feels strain in his head and blinks. They all come down, one right into his face, accidentally.
Desmond sits there for a moment and sighs, rubbing the red spot on his head. "Yeah, seems like par for the course."
Hit and Run
Desmond has gone up against a lot of dangerous and bad people in his day, but not a one of him scared him quite as much as the creepy little deer who looked his way. He saw the teeth. He saw those beady hungry eyes. They all looked at him at once, and he felt like they were those killer dinosaurs, the ones too many people underestimated. Could he kill one or more of them probably, but they looked like they were fast, and he doesn't want to die again, his time eaten by terrifying deer-looking chupapacas. So he ran.
Luckily he still was very much comfortable with his climbing skills, parkouring up the nearest tree with minimal effort and staring down at them. They stared back at him. Absolutely unnerving. "Not today, creepy Bambi!" They seemed like they were heading away, but Desmond stayed on the tree branch for the time being. That's probably what they wanted him to think.
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"I see they have spotted you," he said in way of a greeting, standing on his chosen branch and leaning one shoulder against the trunk.
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"Yeah. We aren't exactly surrounded in haystacks to hide in at the moment, so next best thing." He is stealthy most of the time. He might be a little sloppy at the moment.
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Altaïr did not ask why Desmond didn't look at him. It was something that he thought would resolve in time, or simply become normal. There was no sense in insisting everyone agree with everyone else. All he did do was stand from the trunk and pace the few steps away. "The choice is yours."
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He takes off on that path Altaïr pointed out. Once he looks for it, he sees it clearly, and starts making his way through. He doesn't have the full grace and ease that his ancestors do. He's lithe and confident and trained, but most of his knowledge is through living another person's life. His body still requires training and experience. For now it does the trick, and he doesn't look behind him to see if Altaïr's following. When he lands on the ground and looks around to make sure the deer didn't stalk him, he relaxes. Nightmare fuel.
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And as such, once he saw Desmond safe in the village, he lowered himself to the ground and gave a quiet, "Safety and peace," before turning to leave him be. If his presence was so troublesome, he wouldn't inflict it upon him. There were many other things that he had planned that needed his attention.
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"It's not you. It's me." Hilarious. As if they were having a break up conversation when he's honestly so tired and heartsick and really bad with people. "This is all a lot. But I'm not trying to be insulting."
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Staying Power
Until his focus apparently wavers and the rocks that had been floating above his head all come crashing down, one landing directly on the other's face and Connor is moving in an instant. Thankfully the rock is easy enough to lift away, leaving Desmond sitting on the ground rubbing his head and groaning out the words.
"It will get easier. You must give it time."
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He gets to his feet and only halfway looks at his ancestor. "I don't know how much time these things last. I doubt I just hit a slot machine and got a power for life." Desmond tries again to lift a rock and it works, it's the overdoing it that's the problem. "That'd be cool though." He doesn't trust anything that seems too good or too easy. In his experience those are the worst let downs there are.
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"My apologies. Normally my clothing would make enough noise to warn you I am coming." There was a certain whisper to the way his robes moved that was easy enough to hear once one knew to listen for it.
"I am certain that you will do fine. It will simply take practice." After all, Desmond had all of his skills - as well as all of Ezio's and Altair's. There was no way he couldn't be completely and utterly awesome at anything he attempted.
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"Yeah yeah, everything takes practice, I know. At least I'm not going to get a fortune cookie answer from you like Altair." Desmond respects his oldest ancestor because he knows a lot about him, but he's still hard to deal with. It's probably because there's something paternal about him, and Desmond reacts poorly to paternal figures. To say the least. "Peace be within you and only then can you be at peace," he snarks, making it up, but that sounds kind of real.
"Have you gotten any powers?"
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The response makes him smile, considering it was exactly the sort of thing he could so easily picture Altair saying. "I have found those sorts of answers do not help." The clan mother had often tried to give him those sorts of answers, while Achilles had always been much more straightforward. "It will indeed take practice, but there are things you can do to improve your focus."
"I did." Opening his left palm, a small flame slowly began to spark to life, a talent it had taken him a rather long time to learn how to control.
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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.
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Looked like he had an observer. Leaned against the door frame, taking a swig of something out of a bottle dangling loosely from her fingers, she looked as though she'd been watching comfortably for some time. Might as well get an idea of what the powers they were offering up were going to look like.
She'd have settled for a bit of her old mojo back, herself, but let someone else test it out first. Why not? Stuff like this was entertaining, anyway.
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"They make this shit seem so easy in movies. You just put out your hand and a bridge moves or something. Or you stop bullets." Desmond figured this was probably the best example of that, but he was positive now that he shouldn't be counted on to stop any bullets. Fucking hell. He glanced over to the woman who decided to troll him, sarcastically saluting in her direction. "Did I manage to entertain you? You're welcome."
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"Least it wasn't something sharp. You ever see a sword swallower choke? They don't do it twice."
And she took another swig out of her bottle, absently wiping her mouth with the back of her free hand. "Let me guess. Had a go at the pile of free magical goodies they were giving out."
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He wondered where she got the bottle but didn't question it. There were a lot of ways, probably. He finally got up and brushed his pants off. "Got it in one." He pointed at her and gave a thumbs up. Ordinarily he was not great with people, but he did get along with people who also didn't like people, so there was always that. He shrugged and gestured to one of the rocks, lifting it easily into the air. The one was not hard.
"I mean, I'm going to bitch and moan about this, but I still like it better than what I could do before. Unlike my ancestors here. Who will bitch and moan that they don't have it anymore."
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Still. A lot of funny stuff seemed possible. Weird as it might be, it wasn't the weirdest possibility out there. At this point, it hardly seemed like anything would be much of a surprise. This might as well happen, right?
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He was doing much better with the rocks this time; it helped he was keeping them from his head, like she pointed out. They were making a pattern in the air that was only slightly intentional. The Assassin symbol. He used to have symbols burning through his eyes when he slept. It was real great. "Let that be a warning to you. Whether you like it or not, this place might surprise you with people you don't want to see. Or, I guess, people you do."
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staying power things
She pushed forward, arms folded over her chest. They would talk, eventually. It all depended on when they were both ready. Still, distance was kept; she wouldn’t need to be right at his side to see the slight injury he’d given himself.
Some hesitation. “You alright?”
Desmond was stubborn, she knew. He had a hard head just like his father. A few rocks giving him a nice goose egg wouldn’t be such a bad thing, or affect him much.
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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.
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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.
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"Wasn't it?" The hardest part of this was how easy it would be to get back in their rhythm. They didn't know each other long, although it felt like a lifetime, but it was long enough. "Luce," he started and stopped. He scrubbed a hand across his face, looking away. "You know they're here, right? The Assassins. Be careful. Altair might have married a Templar, but he's unbearably rigid."
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“You can skip the history lesson, Desmond.” Her words were clipped, a hint of strain behind them. “I was there with you.”
And look where it’d gotten her.
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Connor might be more understanding. He was kind and vulnerable in a way the others wren't, although he had a spine of steel too. And he was a terrifying giant of death, so there was that. It doesn't occur to Desmond that it's weird, the implication he'd fight them for her, because it's just how it is. "I tried to tell Altair that shit doesn't matter anymore, but it was probably stupid to tell the father of the Order that."
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Of course that’s all she cares about 💁🏼😂🤷🏼♀️
🤦