assguardians | (no subject)

the test drive meme.

❧ let's do this.

Anyone can post to the test drive meme, including duplicates! Please put your character name and canon in the title of your comment.
All threads are considered open to everyone! Tag around and make some friends (or enemies)!
If you decide to apply to the game, you can use your TDM threads for your app samples! You only need to provide seven comments if you use TDM samples.
You can't really be late to a TDM! This will be considered open until the next one goes live next month.
You can make up your own scenario, interact with one of the locations in the game, use the welcome process of your character waking or selecting a god house, or use our optional prompt below!
You do not need to pick a god house to play on the TDM! You can have your character still in the process of discussing/deciding/despairing instead.
If you are accepted to the game, you can keep TDM threads as game canon as long as you fudge some of the details depending on your original thread. If you aren't sure exactly how to do this, you can always ask a mod.
The game cap is currently at 57/100. Casts currently at/approaching the 8 character limit are:
ASOIAF/GOT: 6/8
Marvel Cinematic: 5/8
Reserves open on September 24 at 12:01AM EST and close on September 30 at 11:59PM EST.
Applications open on October 1 at 12:01AM EST and close on October 7 at 11:59PM EST.
Please always feel free to contact the mods if you have any questions! Have fun, dear (future?) Wanderers. ♥

❧ optional scenario.
As you're walking unsuspectingly through the city, you might feel a sharp but brief pain as something strikes you suddenly at any point on your body. It seems you've been shot - but where there might be a wound with any other weapon is a bright splash of paint instead, glowing faintly with magic. Our modern-Earth savvy friends might be able to recognize this as the work of a paintball gun, complete with that particular sting that isn't anywhere near unbearable but is still really unpleasant all the same. If you aren't quick to figure out what's happening, you might be struck by another paintball, or perhaps even several at the same time. As the colorful paint splashes across your clothes (will that come out in the wash later?), you'll feel compelled to interesting effects depending on the color:

red: you laugh once, with a loud ha!
orange: you finger-guns at the first person you see.
yellow: you sing and hold a note for five seconds.
green: you sneeze.
blue: you fart.
purple: you cry. :(

The more paintballs you're struck by, the sharper your eye, or perhaps even simply from picking up on the juvenile nature of the pranks themselves, some of you might catch the culprits darting around corners and giggling as they run past. Young children with simple handmade guns and bags of what look like glowing marbles. They might be willing to share with you if you promise to let them keep playing - or they might make a run for it if you try to get in their way. Either way, good luck getting that paint our of your clothes!

navigation.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( God, what a jab of a question. It's complicated -- some people say they can't be dead, but he remembers the sensation of death so vividly...it had to have happened. If he wants to talk some sense into this skeleton, he'll have to man up and look him in his oddly present eyes. )

Look, I don't know. But as you can see, I'm not a skeleton. So at the very least, we aren't the same. This place is just strange. A ton of people come, different kinds of people, and then we're just stuck here.

( That's as concise that he thinks he can make it. Whether or not this is some afterlife is beyond him, and he honestly would rather push it as far out of his mind as possible -- even if that isn't exactly probable, as he's talking to a literal skeleton. )

Including... dead people.

[As the fleshy, very-much-alive-looking guy said. What is this, a reverse curse? Could it not have happened about nine decades sooner?]

What do you mean stuck? Are you cut off from the rest of the world somehow? What country is this?

Yes.

( With an eyeroll. That's all he'd like to say on the subject of that, but he's sure it'll come up again. At least the rest of it is of a more general topic. )

People have gone, but no one knows what triggers it. Maybe you'll get lucky, but I've been here since the initial group showed up. I wouldn't say it's a country, either...they call it Asgard. ( He's familiar with it as part of a culture similar to his own, but it all seems so far removed and unreal that it's not an expertise he'll claim for once.

Well, he could somewhat, and would if he wouldn't be venting to a skeleton. )

How, uh. How long have you been here?

[Oh no, now he's nervous. No time to waste. Not for him or the kiddo.]

Because I need to get back to the land of the dead as soon as possible, you know?

A hundred days, give or take. A few more.

( He remembers the hundred day anniversary, but the time between then and now is tenuous. )

If you're thinking this is an hour long trip or so, I've got some bad news. "As soon as possible" here could be who knows how long.

A hundred days. [He repeats, needlessly, looking like he's about two steps from panic.]

I don't have that long. Not me, it's not me--[That's a lie, but who cares?] There's a kid stuck in the land of the dead, a living boy who was cursed by accident, and if we don't get him back home by sunrise, he's, ah.

[He draws a finger across his neck vertebrae. Everyone knows what that means, surely!]

( Oh my god, he is so over talking about the dead, or even the potentially dead. But...it's okay. He understands the panic some feel about being in Asgard, and the unfinished business they leave behind. )

Listen, I...can't give you any real answer about that. I don't think time and things like that work the same here. ( It's hard to properly prove or explain that without the most obvious example that comes to mind, and again. Death. ) Someone I know here died. Was given a funeral, everything...but here they think it never happened because it hadn't yet. They're alive -- with skin.

So I don't know if you have to worry about his curse or not. ( Emil's tone does shift to one that's more apologetic and soft, mostly because...well, there are lots of stories like this where things can't be helped. ) Either way, it's out of your hands now.

[It was always a long shot, Miguel taking his photo back to the living world. Probably wouldn't have worked. But all his best plans failed years ago, decades, and he has nothing left. He slouches a little more with a sigh. Surely Emil is telling the truth, knowing a boy's life is at stake.]

Sí, I guess it is. He's a smart kid, he'll find someone else to help him out. Nobody's going to stand around twiddling their thumbs and let a living boy die. It's not exactly something that happens very often. Not in centuries. He'll probably end up a celebrity.

[But what does he do now?

Hang on.] ...Wait, what? That makes no sense. You remember things your friend doesn't?

( The mechanics of whatever this skeleton is talking about are all so foreign to Emil, he wouldn't even know where to begin his questioning. Land of the living? Some kid is where he doesn't need to be? It all sounds much more complicated than just a kid being lost. Even the concept of celebrity is too much for him to ask about.

Not to mention he's being questioned about how this place works, and that's only slightly less Greek to him.

His hands raise to help illustrate the timeline explanation he can somewhat give. ) So what she remembers only goes up to here, before she died. But I remember her dying, and the other people I know who are here all remember up to about here, with a few days or so difference.

I don't know why she's different...but it means maybe the kid you're worried about is different too. Not that any of this makes any sense. Gods might be able to explain why time is strange, but good luck with that.

[He stares rather blankly for a moment, then shakes himself out of it. Oookay.]

I don't get it either. Glad your friend's not dead, though. [Always good to not be dead or forgotten!]

I hope so. He's a pretty cool kid, he'd better make it home alright. [Anyway.] What's your name?

( Another shrug -- he's doing a lot of that, tonight -- before he goes to extend a hand. It's instinct, but he catches himself before he's unfortunately touched by a skeleton. A nod is offered instead. )

Yeah, me too. And it's Emil. ( Despite the fact that this guy is...undead, he's still pitiable and not the worst. In turn, it means he shouldn't be the worst. ) If you do end up staying more than a day, I don't mind answering whatever else you may need to ask.

Héctor. [He thrusts out his hand automatically, beaming, then laughs in a sheepish way once his theoretical brain catches up with his reflexes. Can't say he'd like to touch squishy flesh either.]

Eh, it's not like I need much to get by. Hopefully it's just temporary and I don't stick around. But thank you!

[What a lousy place to fade this would be. Nothing familiar, nothing comforting. But that's his luck, isn't it? There's not a thing he can do to save himself.]