The Sixth Iteration (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sixthiteration) wrote2018-11-28 05:44 pm
sixthiteration) wrote2018-11-28 05:44 pm
Entry tags:
Test Drive (December & January)
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:
→ 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 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.
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.
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And it's good, too, that the dogs look so relaxed. Certainly not afraid of anything. It brings the ghost of a smile to Maine's face, lips twitching up just slightly. It might be cold as fuck in this weird place, but at least the animals are happy.
The Freelancer hums in response to the names, head tilting as he considers them. Aloe and Aretha. Not the kind of names he'd expect dogs to have, but not bad ones.
"Aloe?" he asks. That one's unusual enough to warrant a question.
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"Uh... I dunno if anyone's gotten into it yet with you, but there can be different versions of - yourself? And I guess Aretha was the last Frank's dog." Oh yeah, his name is Frank. Now you know. "So I just kinda... kept with the theme."
It doesn't really occur to him that not everyone would know who Aloe Blacc is.
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It's only then that Maine gets a decent look at the other man's face.
Instantly, tension snaps into Maine's frame. His muscles tighten; his pupils dilate; his heart rate picks up as though his body is getting ready for a fight. He feels his lips part like he's about to say something, but no sound comes out. He just stares, silent and still.
It's like looking at a ghost. Frank's hairy and older and still looks red from the cold, but fuck, it's too familiar. Like he's looking at an uncle or cousin — or a future that was killed long before it could happen.
Something clenches tight in his chest. He jerks his gaze away. Stares into the fire without really seeing it. Grabs hold of the images roiling on the surface of his mind and shoves them down.
Focus, Agent.
The Freelancer swallows. Wipes the emotion from his face. Speaks again, voice unchanged.
"Theme?" Unless it's 'names that start with the letter A,' he can't guess what it is.
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"Sorry," he manages, feeling like it really is his fault. God, Frank, pull it together. The slightest hint of a self-effacing smile tugs up the corner of his mouth a second later. "If I could change this mug, I would."
It would make being Pete Castiglione a whole lot easier, and it would make this interdimensional journeys a whole heck of a lot less awkward.
"It's okay if you don't believe me about that shit, I'm sure someone else could explain it better anyway." But no one can say he didn't try!! He almost forgot they were talking about the dogs before, confused for a second before he again recovers. "Uh. They're both singers? From my time anyway."
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Maybe it would help if Maine explained his reaction, but the idea of doing so doesn't even cross the big man's mind. He doesn't talk about those he's lost. Ever. Not even when someone who looks like he could be a dead relative is sitting right beside him.
Dark eyes stay locked on the fire as Maine breathes past lingering emotions. As he finishes pushing them down until the tension ebbs from his frame. It doesn't take long; he's had years of practice.
When Frank mentions someone else explaining shit, Maine lifts one broad shoulder in a slight shrug. It's a little harder for the Freelancer to dismiss the possibility of "different versions" after seeing Frank. And, when Frank explains the origin of the dogs' names, Maine's quick latch onto the topic.
"2547," he says with a little gesture to himself. It's the year that he's from, though that may not be clear until he asks, "Year?"
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Between this place and the last, he'd met a lot of people from different times, different places. It definitely doesn't even seem to phase him when he answers, "2017." It had been decades past that in Reims and while this place he doubts is much older than a few generations, it looks like something out of the turn of the century anyway. Weird is just what he thrives on, these days. He used to be much more fun to get reactions out of, sorry to say.
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