Test Drive (December & January)

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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

Agent Washington | Red vs Blue

[notyourrookie]

Snow Blind
Wash is not about to allow a bit of wet and cold to stop him getting out. He's spent time on Sidewinder, and recently too, sheltering in the shadow of a warthog and the Meta. He survived that. He's not even fighting anyone here.

He slips on a patch of hidden ice beneath the snow, and stumbles, arms wheeling madly for a second before he rights himself, breath managing to cloud the air until he drags a scarf up around his mouth. He had drastically underestimated what a snowstorm would be like when not wearing power armour.

Still, the inn is not too far away. The other side of the village. It's a paltry walk when the snow isn't a few feet deep and the ice is biting into his skin. He is not going to let that stop him.


Network: un: unrecovered
I need better clothes for this weather. Where would I get those from?

[He looks kind of a mess; cheeks red and sore with the cold, hair plastered to his skull like a semi-drowned cat, and a scowl that would put off most people.]

Snow Blind

[skyward_eyes]

What he'd give for a few good Firaga spells to burn the paths clear with. Sure there would be a serious amount of mud from the sudden influx of water, but Nida thought perhaps it would be worth it to not have to slog through the snow so much. Granted this particular trip was going a bit easier because someone had been shuffling through the snow in front of him and he was happy to take the broken trail. Of course then the guy had to go and slip and slow down, giving just enough time for Nida to run into him from behind.

"Geez," he found himself cursing, reaching out immediately to grab at the guy to make sure he didn't fall over due to Nida's lack of focus. Well, no, he'd blame it a lot more on the poor visibility.

"Sorry. You okay? You know, other than the freezing thing?"

UN: Stark of the South

[nonstopnarcissist]

That bag you woke up with? There's a peacoat, thermal underwear, and a thick shirt. Other than that I've got like, five zebra print snuggies left at the forge.

Re: UN: Stark of the South

[notyourrookie]

Found the stuff in the bag. Now where is the actual cold weather gear?

[nonstopnarcissist]

that is the cold weather gear. We aren't really equipped for the environment.

[notyourrookie]

Obviously not. Seems like an oversight.

[nonstopnarcissist]

You're telling me. Most places have decent heating provided there's firewood but without a village knitting circle? It's sort of hit or miss on avoiding the cold.

[notyourrookie]

Someone's making clothes. Haven't seen anyone running around naked. So where do the clothes come from?

[nonstopnarcissist]

Best we could find was the old storage area in the bunker where we start before floating up to the fountain. We're working on excavating it so- assume the clothing is the next level down.

[notyourrookie]

Excavating? I'm not convinced any clothing will be wearable by the time people get at it.

[nonstopnarcissist]

Pretty sure it wasn't a total collapse of the lower floor just the stairwells are blocked off. Or. So that's the assumption.

[notyourrookie]

So i shouldn't expect to have anything better than this for the foreseeable future, basically.

snow blind

[debrains]

Blaine was in the same situation only a short while ago -- tromping through the snow, getting colder and wetter as he went, headed for the Inn. He doesn't have anything in the way of appropriate clothing, either, and a lower body temperature to start with. He is actually in danger of freezing through if he's out for too long in the cold, and so has stationed himself by the fire. There's another seat across from him which is good because he's not going to want to give up this one. He's scooted it even closer than it was meant to be, and has a mug of coffee in one hand and a tiny croc-dog in his lap, idly petting it with one hand.

Does he look a bit like a popsicley supervillain? Perhaps. Trade the mug for a glass of wine, that's more his aesthetic, but right now warmth is the important thing.

When the door bangs open again Blaine looks up, and the man that comes in and bangs snow off his shoes has an expression that Blaine knows he did after his little stroll as well. He stops petting Bruno for a moment to gesture grandly at the newcomer. Over here, rando, there's a fire. We like fire.

Re: snow blind

[notyourrookie]

The shock of the warm air when he finally gets into the inn knocks the air from his lungs, almost makes him cough. The warmth spreads through his cheeks, the skin starting to heat up until he almost feels like he's burning. He has to peel off what feels like every piece of clothing he's ever owned because now he's overheating, shedding the gloves and dragging the scarf from around his neck.

There's mercifully a place to put coats, because he's pretty sure it's going to begin dripping everywhere in short order. His boots are already leaving puddles.

The inn is pretty full, but the man near the fire gestures to an empty chair and right now Wash doesn't care about anything other than getting warm and dry. He walks over and practically throws himself into the chair, then holds his hands out towards the fire, ignoring the sting.

[debrains]

Unfortunately Blaine doesn't have a towel or anything like it on him, but the heat of the fire is pretty intense this close and might dry the new guy out a bit. He watches the other man fling himself into the seat and shifts, setting the little animal down so he can scoot closer and offer his coffee mug. It's black, but full. Looks like he hasn't even taken a drink from it yet.

"Looks like you need this more than me."

Re: Agent Washington | Red vs Blue

[whosthemonsternow]

South is in her provided gear. Which means she's wearing all the cotton things possible, scrubs, long johns, overalls as silly as they look, and the peacoat. It's not warm, but it's not terrible. She's Russian- she's made for the cold and grinning at the snowy environment. Her grin grows as she sees a familiar face- freezing to death it looks, but she can't deny who she's looking at.

"Hey Rook, why so blue?" She calls out, though he's not so much a rookie anymore, then does a halfassed throw of a snowball his direction, "Were you trying to fly a second ago? Didn't seem to go so well."

snow blind

[bloodbathing]

Wash isn't the only one having trouble without his armor. While Maine isn't being buffeted by the wind — his weight offsets how very much of him there is to hit — he's no less prone to slipping. So he's walking with his head bowed, dark eyes squinting down at his boots as he carefully places one foot in front of the other.

It's unlike him. Usually, Maine barrels headlong into the fray and damn the consequences. But this isn't a battle. His adrenaline isn't high; his heart isn't pounding; he's not snarling and eager to snap bones beneath his fists. No; this is something else entirely. This is a fight to stay warm.

See, there's another downside to showing up here sans armor. In addition to all its strength and power (and the comfort of wearing it, like the black bodysuit is his very skin), the armor regulates temperature. It keeps Maine from getting too hot or too cold. And, while he can deal with warm climates, Maine can't fucking stand the cold.

So the massive man picks his way through the snow, growing more and more frustrated by the second. Progress is slow, and every second spent outdoors is another second spent cold. His baseball hat does little to warm his shaved head, either. Scowling, he raises his eyes to check his progress—

— just in time to see a familiar figure slip, stumble, and barely regain its balance.

Maine stops in his tracks. Stares for a moment, wondering if he's wrong. Studies the figure as it pulls up a scarf and begins to move.

"Wash?"

Too familiar not to try.

Re: snow blind

[notyourrookie]

He pinwheels wildly for a moment, feeling the jolt right through his shoulders, until he finally regains his balance. Fucking ice. Everywhere. It's impossible to get places without taking your life in your hands and the only good thing is that no-one is actively trying to kill him.

There's a voice. It's a voice that cuts right to the core because it's familiar and awful and painful and he simply can't be hearing that right now.

He has to look around at the buildings, like something from a Christmas card that had never matched the reality of where Wash had grown up, to remind himself that he isn't on Sidewinder. It's hard to do that when he turns and there is...

"Meta..."

[bloodbathing]

The figure responds to Maine's question, looking around like it's not sure where his voice came from. Not surprising, Maine guesses. Snow does weird things to sound. And he knows that his voice can be startling, even under normal conditions. Without speaking again, the giant Freelancer watches the figure turn. Watches, and tries not to let hope rise.

When he hears Wash's voice, Maine releases a held breath. Feels his lips twitch up as he immediately starts forward.

(That Wash said a word Maine didn't recognize doesn't bother him. After all, snow does strange things to sound.)

It's hard to make out the details of Wash's face through the falling snow. So, any oddities go unnoticed by Maine as he tromps forward. Despite still being cold, the massive man's body language is relaxed. Relieved, even. He doesn't know how Wash got here any more than he knows how he got here — but shit, it's good to see him.

To anyone nearby, the next noise that comes out of Maine is just an unintelligible grumble. To Wash, on the other hand, it's a companionable complaint: "fucking cold."

[notyourrookie]

The Meta moves towards him, and Wash instinctively moves backwards. it hasn't been that long since they were fighting in the snow, just like this, and even when they'd been working together, Wash had watched his back. The difference in movement doesn't register, the expression either, and he's fallen into a combat stance before he even realises it.

He isn't armed. Why the fuck isn't he armed? He'd let this place lull him into a false sense of security, even briefly and that was unacceptable.

He's ready to snap, to bolt at a moment's notice, but then the Meta... speaks. He recognised the growling of course. He always has. But there's something different about the way he talks now. Like... the Meta hadn't sworn, hadn't cared about cold or heat or hunger.

"...There's three feet of snow. What did you expect?"

[bloodbathing]

Snow or no snow, it's impossible to miss the way that Wash readies himself for an attack. Maine draws up a few paces short of his friend. Gives him a curious look, then does the only thing that makes any sense to him: he looks over his shoulder, trying to spot the source of Wash's wariness.

It doesn't occur to Maine that he's the reason Wash is on guard. Nor does he take even the most rudimentary of precautions against Wash as he turns to look for the potential threat. Wash would never attack him outside of a training scenario. And, even if Wash may have been a bit ... rattled by Maine's training session with Wyoming and Texas, there's no way Wash would think of him as a threat.

So the massive man turns, looking over first one shoulder and then the other. Scans their surroundings as best he can with no equipment and shitty visibility. Finding nothing, he looks back to Wash, one eyebrow quirked as he cants his head in question: "you good?"

And then, in answer to Wash's question, he speaks. His voice is deep and rough and hardly pleasant, but it's unmistakably his voice.

"Better clothes."

That's said with a flick to the bill of his cap. Because seriously? A baseball hat? His shaved head is fucking freezing.

[notyourrookie]

The gesture is so strange, so human, that Wash falters for a moment, and he ends up staring over the Meta's shoulder in case there's someone there too. There's no-one, not unless they're dressed like a polar bear. It throws him.

When the Meta looks back, the expression is... it looks so much like Maine. He's not sure what to do with that. He hadn't really spent much time watching the Meta when it had its helmet off.

And then he speaks and... fuck. That's not the Meta. That's words, not growls. That's- "Maine?"

[bloodbathing]

As his name comes out as a question, any confusion on Maine's end is immediately pushed aside by concern. There's no reason his name should be a question. No reason at all.

The massive Freelancer isn't a person who's easy to mistake for anyone else. He's just too big. Even if they never see his face, people remember his sheer size. And Wash knows him. Knows his face; knows his voice; knows his grunts, growls, and the ins and outs of his body language. Who the hell else could Wash think he was?

Maine nods in answer and leans down to peer at Wash, dark eyes intense beneath the bill of his hat. Maybe Wash is getting delirious or something. Out in the cold too long. It's the only explanation that makes any sense to Maine.

With a jerk of his chin, Maine indicates the inn just ahead. Then, to ensure that his possibly-sick friend understands, he adds, "Inside."

[notyourrookie]

What the fuck? How is this even possible? It's one thing to hear what people are saying, but it's completely different to see it in action. The Meta was dead. Maine had died god knew when. But the way he speaks, the way he moves... it's not the Meta, and he doesn't understand how this can be possible.

He still flinches back just a little when Maine leans in, because having the Meta that close didn't usually bode well for anyone.

He looks like Maine, the way he scrutinises Wash's face.

Wash steps away from him and nods. "Yeah, good idea." He hopes.

[bloodbathing]

Again, Maine doesn't think that the other man's wariness is because of him. His concern continues to climb as Wash flinches and steps away. It's like Wash is afraid he's about to be attacked. Like he doesn't feel safe, even with Maine right beside him.

The massive man nods and straightens. Normally, he'd fall in place behind Wash to better watch his teammate's back. But between Wash's apparent disorientation and the snow still whipping around them, Maine decides to take point.

After one last scan of their surroundings, Maine gestures for Wash to follow and starts towards the inn. If he doesn't hear Wash behind him, he'll glance back. Otherwise, his eyes remain forward; he trusts Wash to have his back.

Driven by his concern, Maine moves more quickly than before — though not so fast that Wash might fall behind. With Maine's bulk blocking the wind, the walk will likely be easier for Wash than it was before. When they get to the inn, Maine will step inside first and scan his surroundings before moving aside to let Wash through.

Sorry, Wash. Maine's concern is manifesting itself in wanting to defend his friend from any possible threat.