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

It’s not that bad, she thought. What’s a little snow? she thought. How bad can it get? she thought.

Cissie regrets her decisions. At the moment, she mostly regrets her decision to leave her house and head out in this snow storm. It didn’t seem like a white out blizzard when she left, but clearly she was mistaken, or maybe delusional. She can’t rule that out as she plows her way through the heavy snow, shielding her face from the wind and snow with an arm. She lowers her hand enough to squint around, looking for any familiar surroundings.

Cissie knows it would be all too easy to get herself turned around and hopelessly lost in conditions like this, and she would really like to avoid that.

As she squints into the flying snow, she spots lights, flickering ahead. She heads toward them, hoping they’re lights from the inside of a house, and that whoever’s living behind the door she’s about to knock on is feeling kind, and won’t mind a surprise visitor. She promises herself that if they let her in, she won’t even complain if they lecture her about being out in this weather.

COLD CALL

It’s so nice to be out of the house after being cooped up inside thanks to the storm. Cissie doesn’t even mind that there’s so much of it. The fresh air feels amazing, and she can’t help but notice how pretty it all looks. She gives in to temptation and drops back into the snow, making several snow angels before moving on to a not very good snowman.

While she’s working on her snowman, she spots others out in the snow. Cissie is a very mature eighteen year old, the product of being a little girl forced to grow up too fast, but sometimes she doesn’t hesitate to embrace her inner child and act her age, or younger. This is one of those moments.

She packs up a snowball and takes aim, launching it at the unsuspecting passerby. She’s been hitting her targets since before she could walk; she may have made a career out of her ability to never miss a target with her bow, but her throwing aim is basically just as good. Enjoy that snowball, friend.

The lights of the house flicker and flare, candlelight in the living room as well as a blazing fire in the fireplace though it's not obvious as none of the smoke can be seen in the blowing wind. The steps to the porch have not been cleared, but the porch itself shows footprints.

Yet the only sound as she comes close to the door is the wind and the rustling type sound of snow against the sides of the house. At least until she raises her hand. Then there is a very distinctive sound from behind her. Coming from the edge of the roof.

"Can I help you?"

The voice is accented with an English accent, cast loud enough to be heard, and highly amused.

Should she look, there is a face peering over the edge of porch as whoever it is hangs from the rooftop to look over whoever it is coming to their door.

Cissie jumps, startled less by the voice than by the direction it comes from. She looks around, confused, until she spots the man hanging over the edge of the roof. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before she manages to find her voice to answer him.

"I--sorry! I was just--the storm got pretty intense, I didn't expect it to be this bad, and I saw the lights, and--is this your house? Why are you... up there?" She flushes, realizing that she's babbling and being rude. "Sorry. Hello."

Grinning, he shifts his grip, flipping up and over and twisting so that he can drop down onto the porch. Fingerless gloves don't do much to protect his fingers, though the jacket might be a bit warmer. Snow falls from it in clumps as he reaches up, drawing back a cap he wears and letting it fall back against his shoulders.

"It is. Mine and my sisters," he says, moving to open the door and pushing it open before stepping back, gesturing with a wide motion that is nearly a bow to let her in. "As for the roof, it's comfortable. I admit, I wasn't sure if you were friend or foe. Sorry for the scare," he says, still smiling. "Come on. Get by the fire and warm up. I'm Jacob."

Cissie's mouth quirks upward in a quick, soft smile; he seems friendly enough, and he's certainly not the first person she's known who prefers rooftops when possible. Even in a snowstorm, in some cases. It may not be the wisest move, to go inside with a stranger, but staying out in this blizzard seems the greater risk at the moment, and the heat from inside the house is incredibly tempting as she stands on the porch, arms wrapped around herself while she shivers.

"Thank you," she says, sincerely. "I'm Cissie. Thanks for letting me in."

"We have to take care of one another out here," he says, giving a shrug as he tugs back the cap and moves to shrug out of the jacket to hang it by the fire to dry. "Especially with this snow coming in. There's some here that have never even seen snow. Ever."

He's never seen it like this, but he's loving it himself. All of the snow, all of the ways to hide in it. It's been great.

"Surprised Evie's not here. A little worried, honestly," he says, glancing around. "Which if you know her, or ever meet her, don't tell her I said that."

Cissie relaxes a little at the sentiment; it isn't that she was afraid to go inside with a man she's only just met, but she's not a complete fool. She also knows he could easily just be saying that kind of thing to put her at ease, but for now, she's inclined to set aside her cynicism and hope he's being sincere. She's an optimist at heart, really.

She doesn't remove her coat, but shoves her gloves into her pockets and steps closer to the fire, happily reaching out to warm her hands. She shoots him a grateful smile. "Since I'm not sure who Evie is, and wouldn't recognize her if I saw her, I'd say your secret is safe with me." The smile fades quickly as she glances back out the door. "It is pretty nasty out there, though. Do you think she's out in that?"

...She is aware that being concerned for someone out in the snowstorm is a little rich, considering where she herself was just moments ago, but she can't help herself.

Moving to kneel by the fireplace, Jacob grabs up some of the logs they've stacked beside the fireplace to help the stoke the fire. The room isn't really warm but the chill is definitely taken off the room from the fire they keep going.

"She's my sister. She was in this place before I was. Glad to hear it though," he says, finding it standard to just say that, to just say don't tell her. Just because it's part of the man he is. "That's the million dollar question, isn't it?"

And with that he pulls up his arm to send a text to her through the odd little device. "Things like this normal to you?"

Cissie decides to go ahead and remove her coat, moving further into the room and closer to the fire. She holds her hands out to warm them, frowning slightly as she considered the fact that his sister was here with him, and that she might be out in that storm. She doesn't think she would be nearly as calm as he appears if she were in his place.

At his question, she glances up, surprised. "Which this? Sudden white out snowstorms, or being kidnapped to strange places with a bunch of strangers? Because... Well, okay, I guess I've done both before, but I'm used to my weather being a little more predictable. Or predicted at all. How about you?"

Dragging a chair over by the fire, offering it to Cissie, letting her at least try and get comfortable while she warms up. Sliding out of his own coat, laying it near the fire as he settles in by the hearth.

"Neither entirely, actually. The weather in London has never quite been like this, and despite some things I've dealt with, kidnapping was not it," he admits with a chuckle. "I was kind of excited for the snow at first, until it kept going. "What kind of life do you lead though if kidnapping is normal?"

He just can't help himself but to ask.

She offers him a smile in thanks, and settles into the chair, grateful for the warmth and the hospitality. London tracks with his accent, and it's interesting to see who has been to places like Wonderland before showing up here, and who hasn't. If there's a pattern to it, she hasn't figured it out yet.

His question gives her pause. She could go one of two ways in answering--or three, if she discloses both--and both have their merits or downfalls. It's a little sad and somehow not surprising when she realizes that explaining her time in Wonderland is easier and less complicated than trying to explain her real life back home.

Until she knows for sure that she won't be compromising anyone's identity, she has to adjust to keeping her heroing days a secret here, at least for now. It's a surprisingly hard adjustment to make, considering how difficult it was to turn off that instinct in Wonderland. But it made life so much easier.

"Well. Before finding myself in the fountain here, I was in a place called Wonderland. I'm pretty sure it's not the same Wonderland that the books and movies take place in, but it was definitely... special. It was kind of like here, in that people wound up there with no idea how they got there or why they were there, and we were mostly all from different worlds or times." She gave him a wry smile. "I know it sounds crazy, but I figure... Since we're in basically the same boat here, it might not sound as crazy as it would to anyone back home."

It isn't as if his life hasn't been filled with so many things, including death and murder and theft, but kidnapping seems more trouble than merely ending a life once you've gotten the information you need. Kidnappings mean that they might escape and secrets could go with them. Death was a better choice.

"Wonderland? I guess that sounds a bit familiar," he says, considering that. He's not much of a reader, but he's heard of the books. He thinks. "In whatever the book is you're mentioning. My sister reads a bit." A lot of a bit, but that's really her thing.

"I'd have thought it was crazy before this place," he admits. "But given some I've met here..."

Given how old some of them should be, dust and gone twice over, he's starting to believe in a lot more than he did before.

"This is madness to me though, but I believe you." He makes a bit of a face. "So your kidnappers never paid for their crimes?"

Cissie gives him a wry, sympathetic smile. She is fully aware of how mad it all sounds, and she lived it. Is still living it. It feels worse somehow, here in the village. Maybe it's because in Wonderland, they never needed to worry about supplies or food, except in rare, short-lived circumstances. Maybe it was the welcome pamphlets and matter-of-fact way everyone presented and accepted the Way Things Are in Wonderland, while here...

It's different.

"No," she says, giving a shrug. "I never really knew why they took us, either. But then, I'm not sure why we're here, so that seems to track. I was just... there one day, and fell asleep in my bed, and then I woke up here, in the fountain. Not exactly the most welcoming entrance, frankly."

"No one seems to know," he admits, making a face. "Most of them here just seem to think this is all madness itself, but there feels like some kind of method to the madness."

Especially in his mind, with those that they've brought together. It's all been such madness. Maybe it's no different than a place called Wonderland.

"Makes you wonder how they're connected. The same people or just random slips in time or something." It all feels like madness, but he hasn't any idea what to think of it all, just trying to make sense of the things he's been told by others.

Cassandra hasn’t enjoyed snow in a very long time. The cold, the snow... it brings back unpleasant memories. Makes her nightmares sharpen and intensify. It had gotten a little better, in Rome, when Shiro had dragged her into a snowball fight. It had been the first pleasant memory involving snow that she’d made in... a very long time.

And she tries to let the storm bring that memory to the fore, the memory of laughing and freedom and playfulness, rather than the cold recollection of what her own blood looks like staining the snow. (How it had felt, those arrows in her chest.)

Maybe that’s why she’s ventured out in the snow this time. Stubbornness. And restlessness, too. She’s not accustomed to this... lack of activity. In Rome there had been training, both those required to prepare for the war ahead, and the training she had chosen, with Daud and Sunny. Her work with the Watch. And before that, in Whitestone, there had been the business of running a city and dealing with the dragon crisis.

So outside she ventures.

She doesn’t expect someone to lob a snowball at her. And perhaps, any other time, that snowball would have hit exactly where it had been aimed. This time things go just a little differently. The snowball is thrown, and she instinctively and gracefully ducks out of the way (as has become habit when things are flung at her0).

It’s only a snowball, and it startles a soft laugh out of her. “A bit of warning next time?” she calls to the culprit. Her voice sounds very properly British, although England doesn't exist where she hails from.

Edited 2018-11-30 07:03 (UTC)

Cissie is, frankly, more than a little surprised when her target manages to dodge her snowball. If there is anything she prides herself on, it's her aim and her ability to hit her targets. Pride goeth before the fall, and all of that. Her expression betrays her surprise, but it quickly smooths out and she laughs in response.

"Sorry, but I think that kind of defeats the purpose, don't you?"

Oh, good - a snowball to the back of his neck. Thanks, Jason hates it.

With his face set in a deeply irritated expression, Jason turns toward the direction from where the offending projectile originated, brushing the remnants of snow out of his collar. His expression softens when he sees who the culprit is - it's been months, and he's missed her.

"Y'oughta stick to throwing kumquats at people," he drawls, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Those hurt a lot less."

Hi, Cissie.

Cissie holds her breath without realizing it, watching to see his reaction. She doesn't let it out until he turns and she sees the recognition on his face. When he mentions kumquats, her face breaks out into a huge grin.

"I haven't had any luck finding kumquats around here yet, so I had to make do with snow. Are you sure they hurt less than a snowball?"

Look, Jason. If it weren't for the snow, she probably would be tackling you in a hug at this moment. She's not even trying to play it cool and hide how happy she is that he recognizes her, or that he remembers the kumquats. She'd hoped when she saw him, but certainly hadn't expected him to remember her or Wonderland.

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Test Drive (December & January)

Cissie King-Jones | DC Comics

Snow Blind

Re: Snow Blind

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COLD CALL

Re: COLD CALL

cold callin'

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