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

[bloodbathing]

What Maine sees isn't normal. Not to him. He remembers Wash as a rookie: eager, awkward, and made of fire and steel beneath all that naiveté. The man sitting in front of him looks like he's been bludgeoned by life. Like he's half-ready to crawl out of his own skin.

Shit, Wash won't even make eye contact. What the fuck happened?

Maine grunts an objection: it's not how Wash normally looks. He sees the other man staring at his throat. Wonders why Wash is looking there, of all places. He tilts his head and lowers it slightly, trying to catch Wash's eye. Trying to read his friend's expression so he can figure out what the fuck is wrong.

Because there is something wrong. That much is obvious. But, without a clear enemy to take out, Maine's not sure what to do. He doesn't know what he needs to protect Wash from.

Another person might ask questions. 'How are you? What's wrong?' Things like that. Maine finds that they tend to stick on his tongue. He's never been good at emotional shit. Never been good at talking, either. Taking action is much easier.

[notyourrookie]

He feels ready to crawl out of his skin. He's tired, body and soul in a way that he's pretty sure isn't going to go away. This is just how he is now. His expression is carefully flat if Maine gets a look, and mostly his gaze is fixed on the top of the table just in front of Maine. Easy enough to see movement then, without needing to look at him and figure out what's going on.

What can he even say? If this is Maine, Maine before everything went wrong, then... what happens now? He's not the same person he was then. Freelancer is gone. The war is over. And Wash is a fugitive hiding with a group of idiots who should probably want him dead.

"You're right. I normally look worse."

[bloodbathing]

Unlike Wash, Maine isn't keeping his face blank. That aloofness is something Maine reserves for people he doesn't know — or the times he has to purge himself of unpleasant emotions. For Maine, there's no reason to hide what he's feeling from Wash. He trusts Wash. Likes him. Warmed up to him almost immediately. Wash is his friend, and fuck knows Maine doesn't make those easily.

That friendship is why Maine is sitting across from Wash, peering at his face and trying to puzzle out his emotions. It's why, after seeing no sign of danger, Maine didn't growl for his teammate to get ahold of himself. It's why he's trying, period, instead of ignoring the other man's plight.

There's not a lot of people that Maine cares about. But shit, he cares about Wash.

In spite of everything, his friend's declaration earns a snort of amusement from Maine. He cocks an eyebrow as the corner of his lips twitches up, then hums a disbelieving note: "possible?"

Much easier to tease than to dwell on why Wash won't look him in the eye. Easier to try and provoke a reaction than to ask why his friend's expression is so blank.

[notyourrookie]

That earns Maine a faint smile, tired and drawn as it is. It feels unnatural. He hasn't had much to smile about in a long time. Maybe he just doesn't remember how it's supposed to work, or how feelings are supposed to function, when there's anything beyond rage and hate and spite.

He doesn't know what to do.

"When did you get here?"

[bloodbathing]

Small and strained as it is, that smile is better than nothing. Much better than the blank face Wash had been wearing. Maine considers it a victory. Feels a fraction of the tension ease from his shoulders, though he's far from relaxing entirely.

Until he's confident that Wash is safe, Maine's guard will stay up. He doesn't mind. It's necessary.

To Wash's question, Maine answers, "Few days."

Long enough to gain his bearings and quell his initial surge of fury. To begin thinking about his predicament instead of trying to fight his way out. Not long enough to grow comfortable or to truly accept the situation.

With a little jerk of his chin, he turns the question back to Wash: "you?"

[notyourrookie]

A few days. That tallies, and Wash hasn't exactly been making himself known widely. He's spent more time scouting around, figuring out how this place works. he hasn't learnt much honestly. Except that it's weird.

"The same. Not long."

He thinks for a moment, stifling the urge to chew on his lip. It doesn't matter so much when he's wearing a helmet, but here without it, he feels very exposed.

"Hey Maine... what's the last thing you remember?"