sixthiteration | Test Drive (December & January)

→ 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

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.

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.

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.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

snow blind

This kind of weather situation is not something Blaine is accustomed to. It snows in Seattle so sure, he knows what snow is, but other people shovel the stuff. Blaine DeBeers does not do such things. He pays people to, be it in taxes for snowplows or his own employees. He's used to walkways being clear and salted, in any case, and is not a fan of this cold wet trudge. He can feel it melting into his pants legs and shoes, and so has a perpetual expression of disgust as he makes his way towards the Inn. He's not quite a popsicle yet but he does look like he's made of ice, snow-dusted and scowling in his full zombie-paleness.

He stomps his feet rather noisily on the mat just inside the door, a testament to his mood. Manners have their place but as far as Blaine's concerned they go out the window with this kind of weather. It would also be polite to order something first, but he beelines straight to the fireplace, his already low body temp meaning he feels like he's about to freeze straight through. Time to thaw out, feel free to call him on his rudeness. He will give negative shits.

network - un: debeers

Idle curiosity, but I've been wandering around and noticed... there's no cemetery around these parts.

What do you do with your dead? Or is your hospital just that efficient?

DO NOT.

Do not what, exactly? Ask a simple question? Seek work befitting my excellent but very specific skill set? You'll have to be more specific, Miss Jackson.

I doubt that's your real name.

You know what, you can just keep my real name out of your mouth. Or text.

There's no cemetery because almost no one dies here. Meaning it would look very suspicious if they started to. Also, I know a guy who is like 10 feet tall and has giant horns. So DO NOT.

I have no idea what you're suggesting I'm going to do, and frankly, I'm a bit offended by your tone.

You should work on that. Text etiquette is important in this day and age.

I'm going to say it one more time, Blaine: DO NOT. Out of self-preservation if nothing else, since that's your main motivator in life. Because it will end really badly for you.

Look, you essentially answered my question so I guess I should thank you, but you need to just chill. Go roll around in some snow or something, there's plenty of it.

If you're up for one more, how is it that no one dies? And what are you doing for

Well let's just call it work, Dr Moore?

Most days I work at catching squirrels and rabbits. It's a far cry from what I did back home, but it's better than nothing.

I can teach you how.

You've become a hunter? My, my.

Alright. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, after all. Though the soap here. It's terrible. You should see my cuticles right now.

....I actually can't argue with you about that. The spring water helps. I always keep a couple of jugs of it for washing my hair.

And for the record, I'm not saying I WANT to be your welcome wagon and guide to everything village, but I'll do it.

Aw but you've obviously got all sorts of tricks to teach me. I do appreciate it, Liv, from the bottom of my heart.

Where can I meet you?

The inn. I'll be the other albino with the pained look on her face.

If my boyfriend insists on chaperoning, you'll just have to live with it.

The Inn it is. Shall I head ou

Which boyfriend is this? I've lost track, apologies.

(no subject)

living_proof - 2018-11-29 22:02 (UTC) - Expand

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debrains - 2018-11-30 21:58 (UTC) - Expand

A hulking figure with a big black beard and a cheery scarf (matching mittens in his pocket) is in the kitchen, hunched over the stove making stew for everyone to warm up to. He brought coffee too and is rinsing out the ancient pot when the door opens. Before he can get a glimpse of who it is, Bruno the croc-dog hops down off his perch on the table and races into the next room. The hairless, chihuahua-sized creature is wearing a little sweater, hunter green trimmed with red, how festive. He tilts his head up at Blaine before sitting by him near the fire, enjoying the warmth and company both even if this guy smells super weird. If he gets a pet or even a kind word, he could easily look past it.

Frank follows leisurely once the water is brewing for coffee and the elk is left to simmer. The shock of white hair is his first clue that this is no one he's seen before. He has been a little preoccupied lately, maybe he missed a newbie. It's not so unusual for him, really.

"Not used to the weather?" he calls, making an effort to project his voice though it comes out a bit shaky and hoarse anyway. "I'm making coffee." If he wants some, he means, but that's enough words for now.

Blaine doesn't look into the kitchen, or to any potential other patrons, he just beelines to warm up and so the first living thing he engages in the Inn with winds up being the little croc-dog. He blinks at it, trying to reconcile the curious sense of what the fuck is that with I woke up in a fountain, possibly in another dimension, what's a little more weirdness? He leans down slightly, trying to read the creature with its always-bared teeth but wagging stub of a tail.

"Hey there... you... thing, you." He's pointlessly trying to calculate the odds of getting his hand bitten off when someone calls out from the kitchen. Oh. Someone noticed him, and it sounds like they're offering something warm. That sounds nice, honestly, and so Blaine tilts his chin up to call back.

"Then I'm coming to get it! Can you tell me, is this your little buddy over here? Am I gonna lose a finger or worse if I pet him?"

"He's friendly," Frank insists, much quieter than the first call, but his gruff voice carries the short distance easily. There seem to be a lot of new faces again recently, it's almost like people come in waves, though not the cattle-cart that was month first day openers in Reims, without fail. Nothing quite so organized, yet notable all the same. "He wants you to pick him up, but if you don't he'll follow anyway."

It's a long sentence, Blaine might miss parts of it through the half-wall as Frank turns to pour them each a big mug of coffee while his soup continues to reduce. He gets out the dish of stevia and the little carafe of green groffle milk in case Blaine wants any and sets everything down on the table by the nearest chair. For his part, he leans against the sink since they're (presumably) about to converse. He's working himself up for the task already.

Pick him up? Seriously? Well, Blaine thinks, he is awfully small. Better to just bend down once. He shifts to kneel and offer a hand but immediately the little creature is leaping into his arms trustingly expecting to be caught. Oh, croc-dog, you should not trust Blaine DeBeers. But he isn't a sadist or anything and since he got a warning he doesn't recoil or swat the animal away, his arms close around it instead and he can feel its warmth. Not so bad.

"Just don't lick me, okay? Or piss on me," he orders the little creature as he stands back up with it and heads over to the table. Once there Blaine shifts him to one arm, where he's snuggling contentedly in the crook of an elbow, and quirks an eyebrow at the offerings. Is that... milk? He reaches for it first, lifting it and giving a curious sniff that's mostly for show. Even if it's gross he wouldn't be able to taste it, but it does smell different too.

"Afternoon, stranger. No cows around these parts, hm?"

Frank doesn't bother vouching for Bruno a second time, it seems like Blaine is warming up to him enough on his own. He nods in acknowledgment to the greeting, face flushed from coming in from the cold some time ago, undoing his scarf to let some more cool air to his throat before he answers the question.

"They're... cow-like." He shrugs a shoulder and takes a sip of too-hot coffee, black. A taste of the familiar in an unfamiliar landscape, something Frank is all too accustomed to now and doesn't often consider how someone new might be adjusting. It was over four months in Reims and it's been six months for him here so normal doesn't really factor in anymore, not even as a basis for comparison.

For all that he was rude to the pet, Blaine is being exceedingly gentle with it. He sets down the milk again and spares Bruno a few long head to tail strokes as he comments on it.

"I think I'll pass, for now." The croc-dog's tail wags against his arm even after he stops petting and reaches for the coffee, also leaving his black. He savors the heat through the mug and lifts it to his face to let the scent and steam hit. Next best thing to tasting, he'll wait until he won't burn his tongue to take a drink. "You seem used to all of this. I guess it's tiresome, seeing the newbies boggle."

"Suit yourself." It's not like Frank had ever put anything in his coffee either, and he's sure Blaine is more after the warmth than anything. He loves this weather, but he knows it isn't for everyone. And it's kind of a logistical nightmare for him, trying to make sure everyone's taken care of with two feet of snow on the ground.

Bruno seems to like their guest quite a bit, though Frank tries not to read into his opinions. He is extremely friendly and he loves everyone. Again, he won't call attention to them getting along in hopes that they'll continue to do so. Is it tiresome? Not really. This is one of the only times where Frank isn't tired. Where he can let a bit of the former Mayor Hotdog show through without giving too much of himself away. A hot drink and an easy conversation go a long way when you're starting over, right? Something like that anyway.

"It's understandable, I guess." The implication being: just not to him. He doesn't even remember his arrival to Reims, that he hadn't believed anything he'd been told. He takes all the weirdness for granted now.

Blaine makes a soft amused sound through a smile, tilting his head at this stranger. He's gruff. Probably some tortured stoic type, never the kind of person Blaine liked to surround himself with. You don't know what's going on in their heads. They could be thinking something dangerous.

"You're rather laconic. No tips for a relative newcomer? Or just for flavor, what do people do around here for fun? I miss Netflix already." Liv's told him what to do for food, as distasteful as he finds it, and he's more than capable of providing for himself, but entertainment has proven harder to come by.

He snorts, an apt descriptor really. And okay, maybe because the Netflix thing was a little funny.

"Hunting, gardening, raising animals." He points to Bruno before glancing out the window briefly. There's a lot more to do now, fun wise, with the blizzard raging. "Snowmen, tobogganing, igloos, ice fishing. Pick your poison."

There's another long sip as he considers, then: "Or you could stay inside and troll people on the network." Not that he'd ever do such a thing, mind.

None of that sounds very fun to Blaine, and it shows on his face. It sounds like work, and cold, and he's about to ask another question when Frank keeps talking and similarly, that's a little funny. He takes a test sip of the coffee before replying, though, and it's just cooled enough now to not scald him. Perfect.

"Gotta admit, that's slightly more my style. How about the library, I saw one attached to the schoolhouse... you been? I should go see if it's not all kiddie stuff."

He had a feeling Blaine might be the type, call it a hunch. Frank nods heavily like his head is a million-pound boulder that's just following gravity through more than a conscious affirmation.

"It's... not really a library. But there's a manual on anything you could ever wanna do in there. I've got wine-making, knitting and leathercraft if you're lookin' for 'em."

It's an accurate hunch. Blaine does enjoy messing with people, usually not even in a malicious way. It's fun doing so 'innocently' just to see when they'll catch on. And he loves a good snappy comeback. Verbal sparring is the most he really enjoys.

The news about the library is disheartening, though.

"Man, I had hopes for that place. Oh well. I'll learn a new craft, sure, if my existing hobbies don't work out. Do you know if there's anywhere around here with instruments?"

Blaine DeBeers | iZombie

un: Miss Jackson if you're nasty

un: oh I'm nasty

un: ugh yeah you are

un: how rude you are

un: did you mean: how HONEST you are?

un: you put a sour little flavor in my mouth now

un: guess we have one thing in common then

un: and I love her anyway heyyy heyyyyyy

un: this doesn't mean we're wacky buddies now

un: but I'm nasty

un: and we've come full circle

un: debeers

snowwww

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