TEST DRIVE MEME
❧ basic info.- 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 new one is posted.
- You can make up your own scenario, interact with one of the locations in the game, use the welcome process of your character waking up or selecting a god house, or use our optional prompts 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. Note, however, that characters aren't allowed to leave the palace unless they've chosen a god! It's for their own safety... and anatomical integrity.
- 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. Optional events this month can be considered game canon as well! We've specifically structured these prompts to fit in with the IC timeline of Asgard itself.
- ( ! ) The FAQ is currently undergoing extensive reworking! Please check back closer to application time if you want to to make sure you have the latest info. (The only immediately relevant adjustment is that we've eliminated the 10-minutes-of-screentime rule for characters - those with little canon will now be judged strictly on how well their app represents them as a fully fleshed-out character.)
- Casts currently at/approaching the 8 character limit are:
- ASOIAF/GOT: 6/8
Devil May Cry: 5/8
- Reserves open on February 1st at 12:01AM EST and close on February 7th at 11:59PM EST.
- Applications open on February 8th at 12:01AM EST and close on February 14th at 11:59PM EST.
- Please always feel free to contact the mods if you have any questions! Have fun, dear (future?) Wanderers. ♥
❧ THE ARRIVAL.( You're welcome to use a character's arrival as a prompt! Some general information about the arrival process is here. They're then free to explore at least some of Gladsheim Palace, given space enough by the local gods to (in theory) consider which god they'd like to choose to affiliate with. Though most days, Wanderers aren't to step inside Gladsheim Palace without direct permission, the day of arrival is an exception and both new arrivals and Asgard veterans alike can be found wandering the halls, as well as any number of curious-eyed natives who work within the palace walls. Unfortunately, while the natives and the veterans may come and go as they please today, your character isn't permitted to leave the Palace grounds - whether inside or outside on the hedged-in lawn - without choosing a god... or, if all else fails, allowing a god to choose them.
Feel free to ask the mods questions if you encounter any - for example, if you'd like to know how the gods (or a specific god) would've answered X and Y questions from your character! )
❧ MINI-CURSE: SIGYN.
Every god has been able to feel it. A certain energy has been emanating from Skadi; a type of aura that one ethereal being can recognize around another, and this particular atmosphere she'd surrounded herself with wasn't...positive, to say the least. Most gods known how to deal with her in this mood, as it isn't exactly a rarity for Skadi to give off the impression that a storm is brewing around her, quiet or monstrous. Others, however, aren't so old or wisened to her ways to know steering clear might be the better option.
In this instance, Sigyn has taken it upon herself to try and neutralize any impending situation. Albeit good-natured and well-meaning, her methodology is one that might not have the desired effect on the elder Goddess -- in the center of town now exists a large, curved wall of blank concrete, spanning a distance where standing right at the middle mark means you can't see the end in either direction. Every 10 yards are detached, smaller concrete canisters extending from the ground that contain a myriad of art supplies, including paint, pastels and assorted artistic means.
Etched into the side of each concrete canister is a message:
TO ALL WANDERERS:
MAKE ASGARD YOUR OWN
INTRODUCE YOURSELVES
SHOW EVERYONE WHO YOU ARE
It's an open invitation to do whatever you would like to this blank wall in front of you. Maybe more open than you initially think, as reading the simple words create a certain need within you. It's suddenly not just an offer, but a necessity to paint something. Write a message, doodle, express some sort of creativity; this new world('s blank mural) is your oyster, and this sudden compulsion doesn't mean you've become the next Picasso. Once you finish your soul's magnum opus, a pleasant buzz enters your brain and lasts for the rest of the day. Your spirit is lifted, at least until a strong enough catalyst harshes your vibe.
You'll also find that no matter how much of a chalk you might use, these art utensils never seem to whittle away -- perhaps they're worth pocketing, if your neighbour doesn't mind.
❧ ANOMALY DISCOVERED.
It doesn't take you long to find the woods.
No - that statement's a bit misleading. The woods are everywhere, surrounding Asgard in its entirety. Really, it's more notable how quickly you found this patch of woods. You're not even positive quite when it became 'the woods' rather than the friendly, approachable clusters of trees at the far reaches of Honir's district, but here you are. You feel... drawn here, almost. An inexplicable tug, like a sort of gravity that only seems to pull at the base of your spine and the air in your lungs, draws you deeper in through the trees. You're beyond the city limits now, some part of you can feel it, but whatever you're seeking is just ahead.
When you arrive in the place to which you've been drawn, it's... just another patch of woods? At least, that's how it appears. Nothing to see, nothing to hear. You feel it, though - there's something off about this spot, as if the air itself is charged differently. Charged urgently, as if the spot in which you stand thrums with a deep and powerful life force. It's as if you've climbed a mountain, only to discover that mountain is the jagged back of a vast and ancient creature - but instead of a mountain, it's the entirety of the world on which you stand.
Is this what they meant by 'the Mother'?
But though you seem to have been summoned or pulled to this spot, that's where the guidance ends. You're left at a loss for what you're expected to do now that you've arrived. It's only when you try to take a step to leave that you notice that tree roots have grown up from the dirt, taking the time in which you wrapped your mind around the immensity of what you're feeling to subtly but definitively wrap around your foot and ankle to trap you in place.
Fighting against them alone is no use. They seem to thicken under duress, and if that's not enough to resist your blade or your claws, you find that your joints no longer seem to bend quite like they used to. They stiffen to near-immobility, especially your knees and elbows, and though it aches a little it's mostly just to dissuade you from fighting.
Shouting for help (on purpose or just by virtue of yelling at the roots) is a bit more useful. Many other Wanderers find themselves drawn to this exact spot, and two sets of hands fighting against the roots might just be enough to free you.
Then again, you could just give in. (Or maybe you have no choice but to, if your rescuer gets caught too.) The roots will release you in about an hour's time all on their own, and you'll be free to go, feeling somewhat more tired but otherwise entirely unharmed.
❧ NETWORK.
( Network posts are fair game, in this test drive! Network access information can be found here. Note that characters' names are shown - as opposed to choosing usernames - and that the network can't be accessed accidentally. Consider mentioning whether your post is text, audio, or video for clarity! )
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asgardmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
assguardians2020-01-29 07:01 pm
help i'm wheezing
even though he still thinks it's a messy idea.]
Sure is. [a beat, then he continues with more enthusiasm,] Oh, hell yeah, I'll take some blue!
[and here's hoping klaus's excitement isn't off-putting or somehow intimidating because that's the exact opposite mood he wants to set. no one's ass needs kicking; all he wants to do is draw and besides, if he attacked another person for stealing, he'd be one helluva hypocrite.]
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[Jet hands him a piece of blue chalk from his pockets like it ain't no thing.]
These yours? [With a nod at the art supplies scattered in the vicinity. They don't seem to belong to anybody, but it pays to check.]
YOU... *how very dare* lmao what a beautiful gag tag
if jet star's honestly intimidated by this tall, lanky hippie-looking fool with vikings-styled braids in his hair, there might be some problems with others in the future since he's as pacifistic as they come. (most days, anyway.) he reaches for the chalk, twists it over and over in his hand then nods approvingly.]
I've been using 'em, [before he goes back to his drawing, begins shading the flower petals,] but they aren't mine.
i try!
[Ergo, they can be...anyone's. He watches Klaus work with his expression as closed as ever. It could be a veneer over something more dangerous...or it might not. It's safer not to guess until he knows more.]
[Jet's never been very good at fishing for information. He's better at doing, not talking, and he knows it.]
you're doing so good, i'm love
[also meaning he won't be an ass and use all the chalk he's been loaned. klaus finishes up, offers the remaining blue back out with one hand, the opposite reaching for a nearby purple piece, which he starts blending together, down to the flower's tips.]
So, take whatever you want. [a beat, long enough to glance over his shoulder.] I'm sure the gods will provide more, no big deal.
OH U <3
[He picks up another piece of chalk and turns it thoughtfully around in his fingers without using it. Bright yellow, bold as sunflowers. Yellow as a certain killjoy's mask. First to fall. Not thinking of that. Memory's too fresh, and dwelling on it won't bring any of them back.]
[Has to hope that something else will. Maybe the same something else that brought him back.]
Provided us, no problem.
[He should have been dead. He's not.]
[It's a problem.]
:'))) <3
yellow's a nice choice, he thinks, studying the chalk-piece jet's holding then turning back toward the canvas. his own color has crumbled, small flakes that he crushes into his palm with his other fingers and continues rubbing across the concrete.
although it isn't said as plainly as klaus would've preferred, it's easy to gather what he's hinting at.]
Yeah, I'm less sure of how they did that one.
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[Jet's expressions are reflected in minute shifts; it's only the slight compression of his lips and the faint furrow of his brow that indicates he's scowling, for a certain value of "scowling." Mostly it just looks like an escalation from "neutral" to "focused neutrality."]
Or so I hear.
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[he stops momentarily, steps back to assess his picture, the colors he's added, the other ones he's thinking he might want. then klaus shrugs, turns to face the stranger while dusting some chalk off his hands.]
They bring you here from your homeworld, whether you're dead or alive, give you these magic powers and pretty much say, “Do whatever you want!”
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[Jet's expression is closed by default, but it darkens marginally. There are limits to this place. There are limits to what's allowed of them. That in and of itself doesn't incline him to put a great deal of stock in these gods, but his kind are prone to mistrusting authority. Particularly now.]
[He was dead. He's supposed to be dead, and now he isn't. No Witch plucked his soul from his shadow and spun it off where it had to go. He's got the throb of blood in his veins, the slow and sluggish pound of his heart.]
[He also has a headache. It's probably from the squinting of his remaining good eye.]
It's not freedom. It's restriction.
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but maybe there's something worse? which, like, he can understand but isn't sure what else is comparable. although he completely understands the wariness; klaus has been here more than half a year now and still sometimes has his doubts.
oh, wait until jet star learns death isn't permanent in this world. he'll more than likely have a conniption about that, too. and the way it happens? hooboy, he'll never forget the disintegration into dust.
he studies jet a long moment, tilts his head, raises his eyebrows consideringly.] Yeah, I... don't think I'm understanding where you're coming from.
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[He had to pick a god just to leave the establishment - a decision that, based on Jet's scowl, was not something he actively enjoyed doing. He has deities he prays to, when he's got to, and none of them have names like Heimdall or Frigg or any of the rest.]
[But those gods don't have unlimited power, even in his own world. Hell if he knows if they'd be able to reach out to him here.]
Have to pick sides, just to exist.
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[he wrinkles his nose, a mixture of worry and confusion. sure, they had to pick gods, but what's to stop them from doing whatever they want afterward? and despite his choice, he's asked favors from all the gods. each and every one gave him what he wanted or needed then sent him on his merry way.
asking him about any gods wouldn't be the best plan either, he was (is?) agnostic upon coming here. maybe lalli could offer better advice, though!]
They're all working toward the same goal, at least?
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[He twists the sets of carved wooden beads looped around one wrist. Once. Twice.]
Don't know how much I trust that.
[Gods aren't beings that are meant to be easily parsed by people down on the floor, in his experience. Putting all your eggs in one singular basket - well, it can end in a whole mess of different ways. Not many of them are good.]
[He's died once already, all right? He doesn't need more gods ripping up his soul and cramming it back into place for their own ends.]
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[klaus and death have been scandalously intimate for quite some time now; knowing it isn't permanent doesn't really deter him from testing the bizarre plants he finds. (which sincerely says something about his self-preservation.)
after a moment of silence,] Cool beads, by the way. You make 'em yourself?
[maybe time to change the subject? yeah, that feels right.]
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They were gifts.
[That's easier than saying that they were probably picked off of dead bodies that may or may not have been important to him.]
Why?
[Again, Jet's too used to having attention drawn to things for a reason - in this case, he assumes that this means Klaus wants to buy them.]
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Oh, nice. [he'd much rather make the assumption they were given to him by people who are still alive anyway, thanks. klaus blinks lightly, tips his head and lifts his left shoulder in a half-shrug.]
No... particular reason? Just complimenting them and wondering. I've, uh, made some things like that before.
[interesting as the thought is, what would he buy them with, his good looks? he hasn't got anything on him to barter with either, so that's out of the question and it's not like money exists in asgard.]
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[Look, it's all part of the #culture where he's from. People buy and barter and trade - and when they aren't in the mood for that, they take. It's a hard life out there.]
[Jet looks at Klaus with something approaching actual interest for the first time this entire conversation. Don't take it personally, buddy. Jet just defaults to being relatively closed-off by necessity.
You make bad luck beads?
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[it's fair, he'd understand that, which is why he doesn't sound offended by the remark. klaus even lifts a hand, aims a fingergun at jet star and clicks his tongue then withdraws it, absently rubbing his chin with consideration. nevermind the fact there's now a big purple mark across the lower half of his cheek, everything's totally fine.]
No. [he casts a glance toward his own wrist, disappointment creasing his features. he's unfortunately not wearing anything to show off today.] I just make bracelets. I've got no idea what those are.
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[He rolls one of the beads over between his fingertips. The symbols inlaid into the wood might be recognizable - they're Japanese characters - but it probably doesn't matter if one can read them or not. The name "bad luck beads" probably tells you all you need to know.]
Keep the bad luck away.
[Didn't do such a good job of that in recent days, though.]
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while the symbols might be familiar, he'd have to get closer to see them and he's not keen on invading some stranger's space. any other given day, that ordinarily wouldn't stop him but... let's just say he's promised someone(s) to consider his self-preservation a little more after getting stabbed however many months ago.]
Makes sense. Seems like a good thing to have, just in case.
[maybe asgard will have new bad luck to fight?]
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[It's not much of an answer. His eyes flick restively over the art arrayed across the walls, over Klaus's own artistic endeavors, and then away again.]
[He looks back to his own efforts - all done with significantly less effort than almost anyone else's, and frowns slightly.]
In theory.
[Then, a gesture at the wall.]
This happen often?
[By which he means the strange compulsion to do...things...that may or may not fall outside the realm of one's expertise or preferences. But he could just mean the art.]
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he redirects his attention back to him afterward, forehead wrinkled contemplatively.] No, not really. I mean, the gods do give us random things to do, but drawing hasn't been much of a thing.
Until now, anyway? [a shrug, tattooed palms upturning with the motion.
afterward, he turns back to the wall, steps up and swipes his fingers across the flower petals, continuing to blend colors until he's satisfied.] Weird though, the usual goddess wasn't the one who, uh, gave us this art assignment.
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[Not too sure he likes the sound of that. Doesn't like the sound of any of this, honestly, though it seems on first glance fairly benign. That doesn't mean it is. He fully expects that it isn't, maybe a little too readily.]
Wouldn't call this - [Another tilt of his head at the wall.] - giving.
[That's more like compulsion, is his drift. He's not so excellent at putting that all into words, though.]
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[there are a few examples he could use besides simply saying ‘norse’ but if jet star asks him to elaborate, that's likely gonna be his go-to. easiest way of explaining it, to be honest— or at least in his opinion.
klaus glances at the wall again, tilts his head both ways and wrinkles his nose before turning right back to jet.] You're talking about the weird need to do something, aren't ya? Yeah, it's... bizarre but mostly harmless from the looks of it?
[don't quote him on that though, he don't know.]
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