JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

[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 December 29th at 12:01AM CST. Application information (including the list of pending apps) is here, and they open on January 5th 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 again blanketed with snow. Today, the children of the city seem to have taken up caroling instead of snowball fighting. Since Christmas isn't a native holiday, however, they seem to have latched on to any song they can find from the Travelers's worlds, so don't be surpried if they stop your character to belt out some classic songs from the 90s boyband era in an effort of holiday cheer! Make sure to have fun, and as always, feel free to hit the mods or players up with any questions you might have! ♥

Comments

[aimable]

[ Jean is not burdened with the knowledge and experience of any death. His only weight is that of the unknown. Of questions. Of things he probably should not ever know.

There are so little words (and for Jean that's saying something) for what he is going through at the moment. He too wishes to take the older man in his arms and squeeze until Jean is sure he's real. As real as anything can be here in the land of motorbikes and microwaves. He catches the attempt at a grin and gives one back.

He doesn't scold or warn the children about tugging on his hair, so much as ask them if they would like it that much. Talking to children seems a little easier than adults. Jean moves one little girl so he may sit next to Enjolras, as easily as if this were any other day. She seems completely fine with taking up his lap and playing with his hair anyway. ]

I am. [ His expression softens as the rush of disbelief starts to wear down. His voice does much the same but for a different reason entirely. ] I thought-... Did you just arrive?

[member]

[ there is something calming about children, though enjolras would not say so at any other time. he's not upset with the small fingers knotting around in his hair, nor is he upset with the snow cascading down his worn boots. if baby cherubs want to toy with him and the curls on his head ( that have so often been referred to as angelic ), who would he be to say no? there is nothing now, he considers. no france, no revolution, only the heaven which calls itself "asgard". ]

[ he's not entirely sure how to feel. there's emptiness, solitude, but is it from missing his brothers or missing his patria? ]

[ there's interest while he watches jean with the child, smiling more realistically to himself after a moment. everyone loves jean- why enjolras thought little angels would be any different escapes him. it is not surprising. not even a small bit. ]

I did, yes, I believe so. Have you been on your own? Surely you must have seen the others.

[ enjolras starts to wonder why he did not wake beside grantaire, hand in hand. ]

[aimable]

[ He dwells on the answer a little longer than he should. Jean's hands keep around the girl's middle to keep her from falling. She's still at that clumsy age and he needs to do something to keep himself from-- he doesn't know. Losing composure, he supposes.

He shakes his head. ]

You are the only one in over a week.

[ Yes, little one, they've met before. He does manage a small but unsure smile as he talks to her. She wiggles free from his grasp in favor of making snowmen by their feet like one or two of the others. Jean bites his lower lip as he turns to Enjolras a little more easily. ]

Are you alright? [ And then a thought strikes him. Those clothes are not suited for the cold at all. ] You must be freezing.

[ He sits up to take off his coat so Enjolras might warm up. He would be alright, for some time. His actions pause as if in stutter. His thoughts certainly did. It's only then that he realizes why exactly Enjolras's clothes are red in all the wrong places. As he hands the coat to his friend, he gives a look even he isn't sure of the meaning. He knew what was to come the next morning. ]

[member]

A week?

[ there's an obvious taste of confusion in his voice- one he couldn't fight, even if he tried. enjolras realizes all at once that he knows nothing of how the afterlife might work- how time passes, how every person relates to another. this is another world, he knows. things must be different. and a week- well, a week could mean any variety of things. ]

Jehan. [ he holds his hand out, palm facing the other man- not accepting the coat, because he has no yearning for materialistic possessions, even if he's cold. he'd never take it, not when it would mean jean to be cold in his place. he just shakes his head and set his hand back down, bending to dust some snow from his shoe. he doesn't mind the bite of ice. it lets him trick himself into being alive again- like he can feel anything, though he knows it to be impossible. he felt the sting of bullets, yes, he definitely did. eight of them through the chest. ]

[ he shifts, and the boy at his feet complains that he ruined the snow that was being packed around his boot. enjolras offers a sympathetic smile and nothing else. ]

Jehan. What does a week mean to you? Do you speak in riddles or- or are we thinking of similar time frames?

[aimable]

[ Speaking more with his frown than words, he tries to protest with wide eyes. He knows better than to keep trying. It is an offer he should have made all the same.

Despite the little ones trying to gain their attention, Jehan puts on his coat and keeps his entire attention on Enjolras. He has a talent for that, keeping attention.

Back down he sits. And the more confused he gets. ]

A-... A week means seven days? [ Is this some sort of riddle? He is honestly puzzled and not mocking in the least. As his sentence trails on it becomes more of a mumble. His body stiffens and not just from the cold of his coat. ] I know I have been here longer than that by some but not much.

[member]

Seven days.

[ he nods. there's not much else to it other than that, nothing much there's left to do. jean wouldn't lie about anything, and enjolras believes that with such fierce intensity that it does not even cross his mind. it was just- the truth, which enjolras is always impartial to. jean has been here a week. fair enough. ]

[ but also incredibly not fair, seeing as though enjolras heard, rather than saw, his death a number of hours ago perhaps. there was simple no way it had been a week since they'd last spoken, last shared loving comments on the revolution. ]

[ enjolras' lip is set tight in thought, the girl tugging relentlessly on his hair to get his attention. he does not give it to her. ]

I... forgive my being brief. I simply know I have seen you a sum of hours ago- not a week, you see.

[aimable]

[ He wondered (wonders) about the difference in time. If it is different at all. It must be so. Perhaps they could apply the math, but no. Not now. Now they have to focus on much more important things. As difficult as it is with the children playing about them.

He looks more confused, at first. Trying to make sense of it all. He looks back up to his leader and when their eyes meet Jehan can't help but to soften his gaze. He shakes his head. ]

That cannot be.

[ Jean moves closer, his hand resting close to Enjolras. ] Were we ambushed in the night, even before we could begin?

[ He glances at the clothes. The blood. That must have been it, if they had only been hours apart. He doesn't wish it to be so. What explanation is there? But he has to have hope, there has to be some kept alive whether it's foolish or not. ]

[member]

[ enjolras shakes his head- it hardly makes sense to him either, but he knows he's speaking the truth, and he never knew jean to be a jester. impossibilities, he thinks, he tries to think of a way to make it possible, a way for it to make sense, but he has a logical brain that can't quite wrap around their problems. a few hours and a week are hardly the same, and no one in their right mind could make that mistake. ]

I assure you, I would not lie.

[ a hand moves to cover his mouth in thought, clicking impatiently at the confusion- and then, of course, jean says that and enjolras has to scowl at him. jehan does not lie, jehan is not a liar, he repeats interally. but anyone undermining the revolution will get a disdainful glare from enjolras, friend or otherwise. not that jean has any reason to deny its existence because- ]

[ well, he died. with bravery, naturally, and enjolras has nothing but pride for the valor in which he went out in- but he still went out, and it's not like jean to speak of it so lightly. ]

I would not say we did not begin. We certainly began, we fought well. You truly do not remember it?

[aimable]

[ Jean does not think for a second Enjolras is even capable of lying. The idea never crosses his mind, at least. The next reaction from their chief is... It's a bit odd. Why is he getting such a dirty look?

What-- What exactly was there to remember? So little had happened, had it not? Clearly something must have. Jean, honestly and truly, expresses his confusion as plain as day. He does give some pause, running through his mind again and again to see if there is something he has missed. At last, he turns to Enjolras and speaks the truth once more. ]

The last I can recall is all of us sleeping in our beds, preparing ourselves for the siege of Lamque's death.

[ This is the only answer he has to give. He looks to Enjolras with eyes as lost as a lamb, but posture sure of himself. This is all he knows. Perhaps this is all he should hope to know. ]