DECEMBER TEST DRIVE

[nukeoleptic]

THE TEST DRIVE MEME

• Got a character you're thinking of reserving/apping this round? PUT THEM HERE! • Threads here can count as your third person sample! • Comment with your character's name and canon! • This is open to everyone! Also, test drivers can tag other test drivers. :) • Make up your own scenario or have them walk into all the doors or leave it blank for others to do it for you! Reserves are here, and open on November 24th at 12:01AM CST. Application information (including the list of pending apps) is here, and they open on December 1st at 12:01AM CST. OPTIONAL SCENARIO: After your character receives his or her bracelet and the run-down from the faceless maids in the castle, they walk out to find the city blanketed with snow and in the middle of what seems to be a snowball war organized by the Native children! Be careful on your way to your Welcome House: snowballs are flying, and these groups of giggling kids don't seem to care who gets caught in the crossfire. Make sure to have fun, and as always, feel free to hit the mods or players up with any questions you might have! ♥

Comments

claire fisher // six feet under

[notadangerslut]

[ claire wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, walking down the strange cobblestone of freyr district. she had no way of knowing what the gray stone in her bracelet meant, but it didn't seem to matter. this place was incredible, and if she was having some sort of really freaking weird dream? at least she could enjoy the ride while she was here.

claire took her time to investigate every little part of the city, even wandering out of her district and into all the others. she bought a coat and wondered how she could feel so cold in a dream, but didn't dwell on it, shoving her hands in her pockets as she walked. long red hair whipped in the wind but she paid it no mind, wishing like hell she had her camera. ]

This is bullshit. I'm in the most beautiful place in the world and I can't even like, record it or anything. What is this, a Robert Frost poem?

the road less traveled by probably at least had an arby's

[palebee]

Frost; My Butterfly, correct? Excellent poem, I was astonished to read he was so young. What should that reckless zephyr fling, indeed.

[ He smiles as he peels off from a lightpole, head dipping light in her direction. Albus is a tall man for the standards of his day, made steadily more average by the advance of time. He doesn't so much tower as trundle over the snow, a bright green book held beneath one arm. ]

Please forgive me the eavesdropping. Afraid I'm quite new here, and growing increasingly desperate to hear any words not of my own narration. Not very chatty, the locals, but I hear that's been going around.

[ A spindly hand stretches out to shake, from under hot pink gloves. They don't match those ridiculous white furry earmuffs or that purple polka-dot scarf...but it's doubtful that anything really would. ]

A lovely, if somewhat single-minded young woman has informed me that these remarkable little knick-knacks --

[ Albus shakes his opposite wrist, waving the little bangle trapped there. ]

-- hold within them the capability to record events. Akin to a camera, but continuous in capture, and public in nature. Quite clever, and unarguably more portable. Perhaps you might use them to similar effect?

halkdjldkjdlkjd

[notadangerslut]

Uh... [ she wanted to be judgmental she really did but, fuck it. no one else had taken the initiative to talk to her in wacko land. which probably meant he was a wacko. but that was her type, right? ] Nothing Gold Can Stay?

[ claire held up her little bracelet and stared at it, her gaze eventually tracking back to him. ] It's not the same.

I know you might think I'm a weirdo, but there's just something about, like, the smell of a dark room. And then you hold that picture in your hands for the first time and it's like experiencing that moment - that place in such a completely new light you felt like you've never been there before. Digital is bullshit.

life's a birch(es)

[palebee]

Quite poetic -- this really is a frosty day.

[ He wags a finger with a small shrug. There's not even a hint of shame for that terrible pun on his face. ]

But no, I don't think it's particularly strange. There's often richer reward to be found in the craft of a thing than in its easy acquisition. Magic -- or, digital, you called it? -- changes the nature of those moments. Progress seldom advances without loss.

[ There really was nothing quite like that first breath of movement from a photograph, just an instant ago frozen. A portrait would brush their bangs back from their forehead, or an ox give a single shake of its weighty head. And for a moment -- yes -- you would be there again, wouldn't you? In an instant, the time and place transfigured. ]

You're a photographer, then? Or an enthusiast? Fascinating skill, I wish often that I had any art for it. Requires more patience than I think I could give...or perhaps just more grace. Unless backing into light stands is more crucial than I was told.

[notadangerslut]

[ she gave him a LOOK at that particular pun but didn't say anything. instead mouthing 'magic?' after he'd said it. yep, this guy was a total weirdo. ]

Oh, well, uh... I didn't say I was any good at it. But I try to be, anyway. There's something you can't like, replicate about an authentic photograph. And most important, they can't lie. Fuck that photoshop bullshit.