Test Drive (December & January)

[sixthiteration]

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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 NETWORK 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. SNOW BLIND - It's snowing, a lot, and pristine landscape though it might create, it also brings plenty of problems, especially when you live in an Edwardian-style village with a serious lack of snow shovels. It's currently blizzard conditions and visibility is nil — Maybe you gave in and ducked into the nearest house for temporary shelter, and discover someone else had the same idea (or just lives there, oops). Maybe you're stubborn enough to still be out in it, struggling against the wind and snow. Or maybe you've tromped into the South Village Inn like a human popsicle, and are just hoping you don't lose any fingers before you make it to the fireplace.


2. JUMPED-UP - Winter's here, which means it's the perfect time for an expedition to warmer, southern climes. You've joined a group following the river all the way down to the far southern beach, for fun and for science. On this latest break in your journey, you've spotted a large, jewel-colored feather and picked it up, maybe as a specimen to bring back or just a feather for your cap. Turns out it's an archaeopteryx feather, and you're now, well... let's call it a little gravity-challenged. Not a bad benefit once you figure out how to control it.


3. COLD CALL - The snow has slacked off, leaving behind a winter wonderland. Sure, there's plenty to do, but after being cooped up inside for days, most people won't blame you for a morale-booster — That is, unless your way of starting a snowball fight is to pop up and throw them at unsuspecting passers-by. Making a snow man or snow angels might come with a little less retribution, but you do you.


4. WILDCARD - Choose your own adventure. Maybe play powers roulette.

Network

All characters are fitted with a smart watch-like device on their left wrist, which they can use to send text and video messages to other villagers.

- Text and/or video, any length
- 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

Lady Blackhawk | DC Comics

[aarpdiscount]

Jumped Up

"It ain't no problem, just toss me a rope to make sure I don't go any higher than the tree line, and I'll be fine," Zinda insists, looking down from the large tree branch she'd accidentally hopped up into. "Honestly, it's pretty neat- nothin' like the real thing, but it's refreshing after havin' my wings clipped bein' here so long."

There. Are. No. Planes. Here. It's been like an itch she can't reach to scratch since she'd been first getting the lay of the land. The feeling of beeing utterly trapped by that land once she'd gotten her footing.

She's not passing an opportunity like this up for some mere concern like safety.

Someone's In the Kitchen With- (Wildcard)

Zinda is finding herself spending more and more time in the kitchen the longer she's here. A depression baby in the Dust Bowl, she'd learned to stretch every scrap of food in the pantry to its limit and pack as many calories into a meal as possible. That last part also helped prettymuch everything she makes taste pretty amazing, in that homey, Southern-fried way meant to get you through a solid day of work.

Like, for instance, the work that goes into making it in the first place. She takes her own meals after the rush, at the table closest to the kitchen, lest something go awry with one of the simmering pots if they fall short-handed.

"Double bacon tomorrow for whoever can get me some bourbon," she calls out to those still milling about.

Someone's In The Kitchen With

[plate_builder]

"If bourbon were that easy to acquire, I likely would have taken up culinary skills a long time ago," a man answered from a table slightly nearer to the fireplace. It was less a matter of cold or comfort, more one of the fact that he tended to take a while to eat and any extra warmth in the air was a few seconds more before the fat and grease in the soup started to congeal.

Reeve did look up at the woman though. Seemed to remember her from when he was in the kitchen the other day getting some tea for himself. Perhaps she had the skill and position to truly promise such a thing. Alas he had no bourbon to give.

Well, share, because he'd rather drink it.

Terra Branford | Final Fantasy 6

[mooglesbestfriend]

JUMPED-UP

Her cheeks flush as she spotted a beautifully colored bird flying over head. Terra was tempted to follow the lovely creature but she quickly thought better of it. She loved animals but it had something that it needed to do and Terra wasn't going to get in its way.

She closed her eyes and prayed for the birds safety. It was a brief moment of silence and while she expected a well of magical energy, nothing came. Her eyes opened and azure blue eyes looked up at the empty sky.

It was gone.

Terra turned to leave when she spotted the feather resting on the ground. Terra was careful when she picked it up, running her fingers over the glimmering pattern. When she stepped again she felt lighter and with another step, she was lifted a little to far off the ground.

"W-what?!" She stumbled forward and the feather dropped to the sandy beach.

NETWORK - VIDEO

[Puffy flakes of snow drift lazily from the heavens as the video on Terra's watch begins to play. She hasn't used it, she barely realizes that it's there but it displays her name 'Terra Branford' in clear crisp letters.]

Where am I? I... I can't feel... it's all gone.
Help... me.
Please som...
Hel-

[Her voice is weak and soft, her lips move but no sound comes out.

Vibrant green hair curls across the pristine snow as the screen shifts and turns. Terra curls her arms against her chest and a view of the frozen river can be seen nearby.]

WILDCARD

(^_<)～☆

UN: Reeve T. | Voice

[plate_builder]

[The sound of feet slamming down stairs as he moves, extra blankets under his arm. He had to do something, and from what he's seeing, there is something.]

Miss? Terra. Terra, that's your name, right? I can't figure out how to pronounce your last name. How would you say that?

[Anything to keep her talking. He's not the fastest, but he can see the right path, the shortest route. Where he needs to go to help.]

Ezio Auditore | Assassins Creed

[justblendin]

Cold Call;

Snow such as this was unusual in Italy, unless one was traveling in the mountains. Ezio had only seen it once or twice before, so the novelty appeal still hadn't quite worn off. Which meant that he was more than content to play around in the white powdery mess, quickly forming snowballs that were much too large and throwing them at anyone who might be unlucky enough to come close enough. And making snowmen that looked far more like abominations than anything cute and whimsy.

Wildcard;

Whoever had thought that it was a good idea to allow Ezio to go the bunker alone had been sorely mistaken. They were even more mistaken by the fact that he had found the power vending machine and was now capable of teleportation. Only, he hadn't quite gotten it down entirely as of yet, which meant he was phasing in and out whenever he tried to do anything. Trying to have a conversation? He would suddenly end up across the room. Eating dinner? Nope, gonna take a trip outside.

It had been an interesting day so far.

Network; un; auditore

What do people do for fun here?

network; i don't think you're ready for this; un: sartor

[lostpoetry]

I doubt it can be very different from what you do back home.

Cold Call

[moderndayassassin]

You would think this much time in the cold would make Desmond more used to it, but nope, he still hated it. He hated it those long years he spent in New York City too, grumping on his way to work in the winter. He was dressed well for the winter now that he was used to it, although he thought the winter hat made him look stupid, but he saw Ezio from a distance. There were a few people Desmond knew on sight, even from a distance, and his ancestors were top of that list.

He wandered over to him, boots crunching on the snow, to see what abomination he was attempting to make out of snow. "Are you just making monsters or are these supposed to resemble something?"

Cold Call

[indomitae]

Snow is fun. It really and truly is. It's fun when a person has layers, and they have gloves and good boots and a myriad of other things that would result in warmth and protection from the elements.

Snow in whatever grown up summer camp this place is supposed to be is lacking in pretty much anything and everything to make snow fun.

So when cold and wet slaps into her shoulder as Peyton is making her way to the inn, she shrieks. Whipping around, dipping down to gather up as much snow as she could despite the way it instantly made her hands ache.

"Someone is going to pay," she says, twisting her hands, letting what warmth remains pack the snow some, making what is a fairly tightly packed ball with a bit of icy crunch on the outside as she throws at the first person she sees, whether he threw it or not.

Re: Ezio Auditore | Assassins Creed

[ataashihunter]

It is only the fact that Bull pays attention to the world around him that saves him from walking straight into the path of one of the snowballs. But it is close enough that he roars with laughter and picks up a handful of snow to make a snowball. Of course, a qunari sized snowball.

Cold Call

[capturetheworld]

Much like Ezio, Leonardo found the snow an incredible novelty, and he only wished he had the paint or pencils to put to page a landscape like this. He might have imagined something like it before, but not even his creative mind could rival the reality of freshly fallen snow hanging low on the trees. It is cold, yes, but it is beautiful, and he likes to go for walks and admire all the truly unique parts of their new home. He does have a plan to go to the forge, as he walks carefully for fear of slipping, and very nearly does do that when a large snowball falls nearby.

He immediately sees the culprit and laughs. "Ezio!" Leonardo's smile is wide. "I should have known it would be you. Such mischief, my young friend." He leans down to pick up some of the snow and lobs it good-naturedly at the other man.

data | star trek: tng | multiple prompts

[humandroid]

snow blind.

[ There are, of course, a number of benefits to being inorganic. This has never been something that Data denies or attempts to avoid acknowledging: simply put, the truth is the truth. He's found a great deal of benefit in his years since activation.

And while a number of his standard functions and processes have been either shut down or-- reduced somehow during the process of arriving here, he's able to confirm that resistance to cold outside of extreme parameters seems to be as effective as ever. A matter of physical composition. Not programming.

Which is a very fancy way of saying that he's out and about for longer stretches than some. Trying to go about whatever standard daily routine he's established since arriving, probably, as much as can be salvaged. Or he could be hanging out in some public outdoor village space, if by "hanging out" one means standing stock-still and staring up into the snow. Very important scientific observations happening. Yep. For sure.

Barring all that? He does eventually make his somewhat snow-covered way to a front door. Rather than barge right on in, Data opts to knock, and if someone happens to answer, he'll speak just loudly enough to be heard over the wind. His opener? ]

Visibility has deteriorated to the point where it is neither advisable nor beneficial to remain outdoors in observation. I am afraid I must ask to take shelter until conditions have improved.

[ Is this a private home? Is it the Inn, arguably a building he really could just walk on into? All options work. Apologies for the android standing here explaining why he's here while there's cold air getting in, though. ]


jumped-up.

[ Specimen-collecting is the name of Data's metaphorical game. If it weren't very real scientific work, he might start questioning whether or not it counts as a hobby.

He picks up the feather, obviously. Subjects it to all the mental categorization of which he's capable. There are a great many things here, flora and fauna alike, that are entirely unknown to him. Understanding the new requires familiarity.

After those first few seconds of intense and silent study, which seems to him to be a higher priority, he finally cycles through to the next order of business: looking down at the ground below him for all the world like he's simply standing on an invisible staircase that he climbed by choice.

Data has some understandable confusion to process, sure. Yet first billing goes to what could best be described as subdued wonder. ]

Intriguing. [ He's never picked up a feather and started floating before. If that isn't intriguing, then nothing truly is. Then, after a beat, he continues. ] I do not know how to get down.


wildcard.

[ If anything else takes your fancy or you'd like hash something out, this is the option to use!

Catch Data: building a by-the-book igloo, joining all manner of expedition teams with gathering more knowledge on the brain, or observing local wildlife (weather permitting) with all the determined focus befitting an individual who graduated with honors in exobiology.

(I'm happy to match formatting! And working with a broad post-S4E1 canonpoint, for reference.) ]

Snow Blind

[locum_tenens]

[ Niska has been reading her book in a chair, curled up and enjoying the privacy when she hears a knock at the door and a very polite man asking for shelter. She weighs her options and knows that she could pretend not to be home, but the fire she burns for light is likely giving off enough warmth to give herself away. Closing the book, she rises to her feet and approaches the door, opening it to find a strange man on her stoop.

He looks like a prototype, something Hobbs and Elster would have made as children. ]

Do you feel the cold?

[ It's hardly the polite offer to come inside that she wants to lead with, but she genuinely wonders. ]

snow blind

[enterprisingheart]

[There are a lot of things Picard has come to expect, over the course of his stay in the village. He can't say that he likes all of them, but they are, at least, no longer out of the ordinary. Nor, for that matter, is he particularly surprised to find someone knocking at his door - he's well aware that the current snowstorm has been worsening, and far better that someone take shelter where they can rather than push on and risk becoming lost.

That said, he's absolutely not expecting who he finds on the other side of the door, and there's a blink of surprise.]

Data?

[Still, the surprise fades into a smile before long, and he steps back from the door a bit, as if to gesture Data inside.]

By all means, feel free to come in. You're always welcome here.

[There is, after all, very little of the structure of the Enterprise, here; no ready room to serve as his own private space. Plus he can't deny that he has missed Data, just as he's missed the Enterprise herself.]

Would I be correct to assume that you've just recently arrived?

snow blind

[ethnobotany]

After nearly two full years of living in these villages, and the various simulations therein, Beverly has come to almost expect that she and Jean-Luc will be the only Starfleet officers here. So to pull open the front door of the house the two of them had taken up residence in to find Data standing in the doorway has her momentarily stunned. He might not recognize her right away. She's a bit older than he might be expecting and her hair is definitely shorter. Thankfully, the blonde has grown out by now, so at least one thing is consistent.

"Data!" she finally gasps when she has recovered her voice. She steps aside to usher him into the house. "Come on in. Jean-Luc isn't too far away. I can let him know to come back-" She cuts herself off as she sees just how hard the snow is coming down and a frown creases her brow. "Well, I'll let him know you're here and find out where he is."

He's probably on his way back, but he isn't stubborn enough to get himself caught in this. Hopefully.

"How are you feeling? How are your systems doing?"

For now, she refrains from asking him when he got here, but only just. They can get into that in a bit.

Leonardo da Vinci | Assassin's Creed

[capturetheworld]

SNOW BLIND

Leonardo enjoys the snow as a novelty. He's never been in it this frequently, and it is gloriously beautiful when it falls and covers the land. His enthusiasm almost immediately was turned into interest in creating wooden frames to slide better in the snow, and he might have thought it through poorly by going out at the start of a storm to try them. Needless to say it was too heavy to safely use them, his first designs were destroyed almost immediately, and he got stranded out in the snow.

He can't see far in front of him except the vague blurs of buildings, and he is slightly concerned with how he is going to find his way home. It simply is impossible to do so, and Leonardo is no fool. He trudges to the nearest house blob he can see and he's shaking heavily by the time he makes it to the door, knocking as loudly as he can with numb hands. All he can do is hope someone is there, but if not, he might have to fin a more creative way in.

COLD CALL

Leonardo longs for paints, brushes, and pencils, as there is a purity in the beauty around him he wishes he could capture. It will stay in his mind's eye, but it is not enough. He can be seen in the new snow simply admiring a vast snowy former grasslands or creating a rather intricate version of a snowman. Except as he keeps working on it over time, his fingers starting to lose feeling, he is determined to make an almost realistic figure of a man. It would need many things to maintain a true statuesque form, and he knows very little about ice sculpturing or that would have been his first task, but for now he is entirely focused on his bit by bit creation.

Snow Blind

[plate_builder]

The house blob had lights on, at least there was that to help it stand out just a touch better in the thick snow. Reeve, not even noticing the storm as he poured over his latest sketch of a needed water tower, fliched at the sound of a knock on the door. Not Brigitte it would be a lot louder because she tried to give him fair warning that he was about to get mothered. Steph just forewent the process entirely. So Reeve put down his pencil and left the sun room that had been converted into a lovely office with plenty of table space, and went for the door.

When he opened it he was shocked, more by the clear blizzard that had whipped itself up than by the stranger at his door.

"Oh my, quite a storm," he mused before he truly processed the man there. His shock turned to a softened expression of concern and he stood aside for Leonardo. "Please come in, it would be poor manners to leave you out in that. I'm glad I thought to set a fire in the fireplace earlier."

arid | the fall

[thefaulty]

i. snow blind
[Inclement weather is rarely an obstacle for Arid. The Mark-7 combat suit she calls her body was made to withstand the freezing vacuum of space; a blizzard is hardly enough to warrant concern. Even when the snow thickens enough to reduce visibility to almost zero, she counts it as little more than an annoyance. If she chose to, she could stand in place until the blizzard passed, crack the ice from her joints, and go on functioning without issue afterwards.

So she continues exploring, a somewhat ominous dark figure amidst the whiteout. If you can see her at all, that is. For those who unwittingly bump into her in the blinding snow, they’ll feel no warmth seeping from her armor—just icy, unyielding steel, as cold as the blizzard around them.]

ii. cold call
[As preferable as it is to navigate this strange new planet without a blizzard obstructing visibility, Arid notes that the change in weather brings with it other unwelcome effects—namely, the sudden rush of humans out into the snow.

She prepares for confrontation or at least for the uncomfortable moment when someone addresses her with a query meant for her pilot—but the humans barely pay her in mind at all. Instead, many start occupying themselves by manipulating the snow, rolling it into spheres of various shapes or even lying prone in it and pushing it with their arms and legs.

Arid watches from a distance, completely perplexed. Unlike synthetics, humans can face a number of physiological complications from prolonged exposure to ice and snow. Why would they be practically rolling around in it now?]

Are these activities of ceremonial importance? [Arid asks aloud, electronic voice dubious.] Or are they some form of mass hysteria?

cold call

[313_248_317_60]

The latter.

[The voice to Arid's left sounds human. The being producing it matches... for the most part. A ring of light spins blue at his temple, and his expression is a seamless neutral mask, entirely unmoved by the scene arrayed before them both. When he speaks again, the words have fractionally more inflection: a polite shade of scorn.]

I believe most humans consider this 'fun'.

Sabriel | The Old Kingdom

[bindsthedead]

Snow Blind

She's freezing. Sabriel can hear her teeth chattering and her body shivering, and while she's no stranger to cold weather or poor visibility, she's not dressed for it, and has no magic to counteract the cold- she needs to get inside now. Niceties about trespassing and respecting people's privacy can be dealt with once she's not in danger of freezing- and after surviving any number of ravenous Dead and being run through with her own sword, there's something ignominious about freezing to death.

Besides, she isn't allowed to die. Not when there's no one to take her place as Abhorsen.

So she needs to keep moving- if she stops, she's dead. So she presses forward. Do not tarry, do not stop, no matter what happens, she reminds herself, as the dark shape of a house looms over her, and Sabriel stumbles towards it, freezing fingers fumbling at she searches for the latch- and then stumbles in, half-frozen and pale as a corpse, shutting the door behind her and slumping to the floor, rubbing her hands together to try to warm them.

After a few moments, she looks up, trying to get a sense of her surroundings- even in a place of relative safety, there's a tension to her movements, like she might burst into action at any moment. With the immediate threat of freezing to death gone, it's easier to think more clearly, wonder whose home she's stumbled into.

Cold Call

Snow covers a lot, and the entire village looks beautiful, covered in a clean, even layer of powder. Sabriel takes a few moments to admire it- then turns her attention to chores, working on clearing away the snow. She's not a child, and she wants to be useful. She doesn't work in silence though- she sings as she works, mostly Old Kingdom folk songs with rather morbid themes, but also songs she remembers from the radio in Ancelstierre. She's a good singer, at least, even if her choice in songs is a little strange.

And once in a while, someone will find a snowball hurled at them, but Sabriel's cheerfully working, so it couldn't be her, could it?

snow blind

[bloodbathing]

The house she's stumbled into is one of only a few occupied buildings in the North Village. On the one hand, that means that it's warm: there's a fire crackling in the fireplace, and the basement furnace is piping heated air into every room. On the other hand, it's a private residence — and its occupants happen to be two battle-hardened space marines.

One of those marines is an intensely paranoid man with trust issues a mile wide. The other isn't paranoid: he can just count the number of people he actually cares about on a single hand. Fortunately for Sabriel, it's the latter who comes to investigate the noise caused by her entrance.

Unfortunately, Agent Maine happens to be a behemoth of a man. Seven-feet-tall, broad-shouldered, and heavily muscled, Maine looks like he could very easily lift her up with one hand and hurl her out into the snow. He's clad in black scrubs and seems to have been enjoying the warmth of the fireplace. Or maybe he just walks around holding a piece of firewood like a club at all times. Who knows?

The massive man stands in the hallway and stares down at the intruder, dark brows furrowed. He doesn't recognize her. Which isn't saying much: he doesn't recognize a lot of people here. But she doesn't appear hostile. She just looks ... cold. Maybe she got lost?

After a moment spent frowning at her, Maine speaks up, his voice deep and growling: "Who?"

Cold Call

[youcantkillme]

The snowball is light and powdery, and it crumbles on impact. Immediately snow slips down his collar, and when he brushes the rest away it scatters all over his coat.

He turns. The culprit is... that young lady? She's the only human visible, even if she appears totally engrossed in her work now. Connor's blue LED cycles, and he looks at the snow, then in the direction he'd been walking when he'd been caught by the snowball.

...

A few seconds later, when she's turned away enough that he's confident he's not being observed, Connor crouches, scooping together one generous portion of snow. He's never done this before, and for a moment he's delayed by fussing when the ball doesn't pack the way he expects it to. Then he straightens, gently tossing the ball in a light arc back towards the human. Immediately he turns and resumes walking as though he hadn't stopped at all, nevermind that he's still covered in snow from her original snowball, and that his sleeves are dusted incriminatingly with traces of his own venture.

There. That was a Successful Interaction.

Perhaps an hour later he'll becoming back the way he'd come, taking the same route. He's looking around, trying not to be obvious about it. (Is she still there?)

[duel_wielding]

Snow Blind (Sans Theta)

What he would give for any of his gear right now. The undersuit with its thermal-regulation gel would be nice. The helmet and armor would be good for online sensor suites, his thermal camera, and a number of different things to help him see through the worst of the blizzard. And then...

Theta.

The thought hurt. So he let it go, shoved it aside. Right now the first priority is life. Which meant stumbling through the snow, seeking shelter. Has to get out of the cold before hypothermia gets him. Finds stairs and heads up them. No reason he can't be polite though. Knocks a few times on the door because he would prefer to not break in to someone's house if he can avoid it.



Cold Call (With Theta)

It's been a while since there has been fun in the snow for him. Since his childhood actually. When was the last time he could just sit down and enjoy this? To just make something? So he picked himself a nice area near the inn with a bit of snow and starts gathering it. Starts by making him a nice, massive mound of snow. Got to have something to work down from. He's thinking mermaid.

I think you should make a dog instead.

North chuckled, seemingly to himself, at the spark of suggestion.

"Tell you what, we'll see if we can't look into interacting with a dog, but first, let's make a mermaid."

On a skateboard?

"Sure, T. For you, we'll add in a skateboard."

Snow blind

[hippocratical]

Fortunately, North won't be driven to breaking in, because it only takes til the third knock for Simon to reach the door, tugging it open and looking out warily. He wasn't expecting any company today, especially with the way the wind's been howling around the corners of the house, the snow piling up on every windowsill, and his nerves are already tightly strung. But all traces of suspicion disappear upon seeing the state the man on his doorstep's in, and instead concern and smooth competence kick in as he reaches out to offer an arm to help him inside.

"Come on. I'll get some blankets and tea. Nobody should be out in this without the proper gear. Are you experiencing any dizziness or having any trouble breathing?"

Because on a day like this, hypothermia is a real concern, and whoever this is, Simon's not going to leave him out there to die. He might be stuck on this backwater hole of a planet, but he's still a doctor. He took an oath to save lives, wherever he could.

rosa diaz - brooklyn nine-nine | .snow blind. | cw - cursing

[pop_of_color]

"What the FUCK?!" Rosa practically screams as she braces herself against the blowing, billowing blanket of snow around her. Her words are punctuated and staccato-ed by chattering teeth and full-body shivers. It doesn't matter how many layers of clothing she's got on. It doesn't matter how tightly she's wrapped her coat around her chest. Somehow, the cold seems to penetrate all the way through her very organs, and she's a hundred percent certain that she's going to freeze from the inside out.

"FUCK THIS!" she shouts as she makes a sharp left towards what she thinks, what she hopes is a door. She doesn't even bother to knock - not that she can manage all of the steps required to make such a thing happen. Her hand sure as fuck isn't leaving the sanctity and frostbite-free-safety of her pocket, and she isn't even entirely sure she can manage to move her arm to bring her hand up to the door, even if she wanted to. So, she barges in, stumbling into shelter, fumbling to close the door behind her like she's trying to keep out a troll.

She's like a ghost, covered in slowly melting white. She does a head-to-toe shake to try and rid herself of as much of it as she can before daring to remove a hand from its pocket. She runs a hand through her dampened and practically frozen hair (serious Titanic, floating-on-the-door vibes), then takes a look around. It's only then that she realizes she B&E-ed into someone's house. It's clear someone's been living here and/or is still living here.

"Uh. Hello?" she calls out, taking a couple of steps away from the door. "Your door was unlocked." She takes another step forward, eyes darting around for any sort of movement. "I'm not gonna steal your shit. I just wanted to get out of the snow."

[lifeofadeathseeker]

Snowblind

This is the problem with never traveling outside of Odalya or Kion or any other temperate weather country. When one sees blizzard conditions, one does not realize how fast the cold in those conditions can become the worst part. It starts with the lack of sensation in one's fingers and toes. Then it starts to creep up the legs. One starts to shiver violently. Then one's face goes numb and one loses feeling in their nose. So by the time Kalen managed to find his way to the inn, he was sure that he had lost several appendages.

He had done his best to remove the snow by kicking it off his boots at the door but that did nothing for the snow that was already stuck to his face and hair. He was still shivering quite a bit while he was scowling at the fire and had not yet taken his coat off.

"It would be so much easier to warm up if I could use a rune."

Grumbling some more inaudibly, the teenager started to shrug the backpack down to the floor. Chilled and now becoming wet as the snow melted, Kalen's feeling of frostbite was now morphing into a foul mood.

Network

[username: black knight]

Half the things here are flammable. Please tell me you can use something besides fire to see?

Wildcard

Got an idea? Let me know c: