TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[inthenightmods]

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

Hello and welcome to the In the Night test drive meme for June! Thanks for your interest in our game! Reserves open on June 20, and applications open on June 22.

While you're here...

• Take a look at our rules and faq pages to familiarize yourself with the game.
  
• Note that we have a reserve/application cap of 20 apps per month (this has been waived for the first month!).
  
• TDM threads can become game canon if both players wish. If the situation isn't something that could happen in-game, you're free to chalk it up to some strange hallucination, a shared dream, or other mysterious circumstance.
  
• Note that this is not limited to new characters threading with characters already in-game. If current players wish to thread out the TDM prompts as canon events, they are welcome to do so.
  
• Though threads can become canon, they cannot count toward AC.
  
• If you plan to apply, please keep in mind that we do require at least one sample thread on the application to be from our TDM (though it doesn't need to be the current TDM).
  
• You're welcome to use the provided prompts or come up with something on your own, but we do ask that all threads take place in our game's setting.

Thank you again, and we hope you'll choose to join us!

log prompts

YOU'RE DEAD, JIM

You haven't been in Beacon long when you find yourself in Bonfire Square, staring into the flames and thinking about how you ended up here. Maybe it was an accident, a sudden freak thing that you never saw coming until you woke up on the ferry, or maybe it's a miracle you made it as long as you did. Maybe death was a relief. Maybe it was just your time. Whatever the case, you can't help but reflect on your final moments as you linger in the firelight.

But however you died, it's behind you now, and you're here, stuck in this little town with just a few buildings and a smattering of other people. You're going to be here a while, so you may as well get to know your neighbors, but... Would it be cathartic to commiserate about your deaths? Or is your time better spent stocking up at the general store? Then again, you've got plenty of time, so why not catch a drink or two (or three) at the Invincible? Pretend you're unaffected by your death, and, well. Fake it 'til you make it, perhaps.

Point is, you have options. You're dead, you died, and this is your "life" now. Better get used to it.

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

Currently, there's only one place to live (technically speaking) in Beacon: the Invincible, a tavern and inn located in Bonfire Square. Luckily, the place has working amenities (minus light), and the forest spirits don't charge anything for your stay. Unfortunately, it seems there may not be enough rooms for everyone. Guess you'll have to get cozy!

Maybe you'll try to pick a roommate from around town or in the bar downstairs, or maybe you'll just walk into the first room you see and choose that way. Want a room all to yourself? Get ready to fend off any potential intruders. And the fun doesn't end there.

The Invincible's rooms aren't all created equal. Some may have had their furniture stolen or become a dumping ground for unwanted pieces, resulting in a single bed, five dressers, and other equally distressing situations. Will someone sleep on the floor? Will you nail two beds together to form bunk beds? Maybe you just want to make this room into something more like home— potentially to your roommate's chagrin. Whatever you decide, this is where you're staying for now, so you might as well get comfortable.

network prompts

HACKER VOICE: I'M IN

In order to use the network, you have to register a username. Er, at least, that's how it's supposed to work. For some reason, new users have recently been able to bypass that requirement, allowing them to post anonymously. Time to troll strangers on the magical internet!

Eventually though, you'll need a username in order to use the tablet's other functions, like the direct messaging system. So hey, why not take advantage of the ability to source opinions, and workshop your potential usernames on the network? Share ideas, get feedback, steal ideas, critique others, and figure out what you want everyone to call you.

TURN ON YOUR LOCATION

When you wake up, you're in the woods. An iron shackle complete with a chain leashes you to a tree, and the only light you have is your lantern. You've never seen this area of the woods before. You certainly didn't go to sleep here.

Hm.

But, all is not lost. You find your phone in your pocket, as well as a scrap of paper covered back to front in cryptic scribbles. Are these clues to your location? They must be. You also spot a key dangling from a branch, though it's hanging from a tree you'll never be able to reach from here. Perhaps someone on the network will be able to lend you a hand...

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Comments

melisandre 🔥 asoiaf / got book verse

[voktys]

( i ) the night is dark

[ She breathes in, she breathes out. It is a futile exercise, that, no need to it anymore. Her scent bleeds into the smoke of the fire, they are one and the same still, the flame and her. Her own death has betrayed her, she is not ascended to the Hall of Light, but swallowed by darkness, in the worst way, the most nightmarish way, and there is no escaping.

No matter, she has had darkest hours before. The Lord of Light may bring her back to life still, if she prays, if she stares into this bonfire, His fire, and breathes prayer into it, over and over again, eyes heavy-lidded and red and terrified. ]

I see nothing.

[ No shapes in the flames, no light towards the future, no glimpse of the past. Her visions have abandoned her. ]

---

( ii ) network: un: priestess

Two dressers for trade. Make an offer.

---

( iii ) full of roommates

[ She isn't dead. Melisandre tells herself this, over and over, in a quiet mutter, as she paces through the room, making rearrangements as she goes, as if to align it with something more god-fearing, as if it is god she must fear now. There are four dressers in the room, and one bed – and in general, it is in an untidy state, so she had not come to suspect anyone else might have claimed it.

Maybe you're not actually untidy. Maybe you were just looking for something. Or maybe your room did get trashed in your absence. ]

It is considered polite to knock.

[ It's considered more polite, Melisandre, to not suspect a room to be unclaimed and then move in without any notice, but then, when has she ever been the queen of politeness? ]

---

( iv ) wildcard, baby!

[ want something else? hit me up @ nehelenia or dracula#1035 on discord if you'd like to plot something, or just surprise me. ]

1

[callada]

[There are a lot of people standing around and staring. This is nothing new. Rosinante intends to pass this one by like most others on his way toward - well, who knows where. Elsewhere. Into the darkness, to see what it holds.

But he pauses at the voice, which seems aimed at nobody in particular, he thinks. It's unnerving in a way he can't put a finger on. There is a big, bright fire right there so how can she see nothing?

From behind, where he had intended to keep walking past, he comes forward instead to her right side and peers down at her - for she only comes up to his hip. He hasn't set the lantern down yet. He might still just walk off.]

You all right?

[voktys]

[ At close to 6 foot, she is not used to being towered over, certainly not to such a degree – if she had not died, if there was not still blood hidden among all the red of her dress, this would perhaps be the most startling thing she has seen today. ]

No.

[ Why lie? The Lord of Light values honesty, even if he did not keep his promise of salvation. That said, at least, she had a taste of it, at least she was raised high. She is making assumptions of his face paint – it looks almost like tattoos, in the fire light. Slaves in Volantis are frequently scarred in such a fashion. ]

I suppose none of us are anymore. Have you ever seen things in the fires? The shape of a future to come?

[callada]

Can't say I've looked for anything like that. Just looks like fire to me.

[So, a superstitious type, then. She's not talking about being blinded. Well - that's kind of a relief. There are a couple doctors, or at least medics, around but they might find sudden blindness kind of hard to fix.

He doesn't normally care much for mystics and oracles. Religion as a whole is something he tends to give a pass on. Call it a relic of his upbringing. Usually those who claim to receive messages from gods, or worse, who claim to be gods, are just trying to take advantage of the gullible and unfortunate. But his distaste doesn't come through in his voice. Fine, he'll ask. He'll pretend to be curious. Never know what you might find out.]

You usually see things like that? The future?

network, un: carol

[starforce]

I can blow them up.

[she's 100% serious about this]

[voktys]

Do you speak in jest? I cannot tell, this medium is foreign to me.

[ There is a pause, and then another message. ]

The idea of taking some heavy object to them and beating them to submission does hold some appeal.

[starforce]

[on her end, that second message in particular gets a huff of a laugh out of her. you're all right, "priestess". you're all right.]

It does, but I've got a better way. All I have to do is hit them with a photon blast, and they're gone. Just like that. No more dressers, no more problem.

I've tested it. 100% guarantee. Not joking.

[spitefullight]

[ He had been making his rounds about the fire. Ignoring his own sorrow to try and help others cope with their's. He's never easily cried...perhaps he never really let himself cry because he knew he had to be stronger. As much as he wanted to when he got here he's kept himself as composed as a teenager can be.

So, when he's this red woman staring into the fire talking to herself, he steps towards her. He holds a jug of water in one hand with a satchel of cups to his side. He finally approaches to the woman and holds out the jug. He looks up to her, a golden yellow sun emblazoned on his silver breastplate, his dark hair falling over gold eyes. ]

You look like you could use a drink. It's not alcohol but, I figured water would be all right.

[voktys]

[ The Yellow Sun catches her eye – she tries to place the crest, but fails. It is not Dorne, it is not Tarth, but then, he was one of the many she's met and known, he would more like than not casually offer her a glass of water. Even in her world, she is... distinct. ]

I – [ She hesitates, tries again. ] I would appreciate it, thank you.

[ Better water than alcohol, truly. This requires a clear head. ] You... are not of this world, are you? [ Because in that case, drinking something he offers could be a bad idea, right? ]

[spitefullight]

[ He produces a cup from the satchel and pours out the water from the jug. Clear and pure it pours as he hands the full cup to her. But, her question earns a slow head shake from in return. ]

No, and you aren't either, are you?

[ Maybe he's assuming much but it seemed hardly anyone here knew what was going on. ]

This place is far too strange for me and well...creepy. A place with no sun? It doesn't say anything good.

roommates

[withsadness]

[At the statement, Mary seems at first to be able to do nothing more than gape. But then, blinking a few times, she gasps, putting a hand to her mouth.]

Oh, you're right! How silly of me...I read that in a book and everything!

[She goes back outside, closes the door, knocks, opens it and comes back in.]

Hello! You're very pretty!

[voktys]

[ It doesn't take much to have Melisandre feel a twinge of guilt at her own harshness. After all, this is just a girl, and stuck in such a terrible place on her own. For all her harshness through the last years, she remembers well being this small, being more lost, having no one safe the Temple – and there had been a time before the safety of the Temple, too. ]

Thank you. You look very pretty as well. [ An attempt at friendly was made. ] Forgive me for speaking so harshly.

[ She looks over the girl's shoulder, as if a guardian might manifest themselves. ]

Are you on your own?

[withsadness]

That's okay...I didn't mind.

[Mary gives a curtsy after she puts her lantern down beside her.]

Yes. I'm all alone, so I'm making new friends. My name is Mary!

Wildcard! (Also, MELISANDRE <3!!)

[rehabbed]

[ Jesse stands in middle of the church, peering up and around him. He's in baggy jeans, a black hoodie with deep red patterns snaking across the shoulders, a shaved head, haggard looking facial scruff. In his hand is his lantern — nothing fancy, though the flame within it is hard, unwavering, blue, like a butane or Bunsen burner flame. He's holding the lantern up in the air in effort to see his surroundings better, the flame bathing him in a cool blue glow. Throws everything around him in cool blue light, too. The colour reminds him of murder and death and suffering. Reminds him of Mr. White. The Devil. He hates this fucking lantern.

The sound of the heavy door suddenly groaning open has Jesse whipping a sharp, edgy look over his shoulder in the door's direction. Maybe it's just the darkness, the eerie blue glow thrown across him, but Jesse is a haunted sight: Dark bags under his hollow eyes, a piercing mistrustful emptiness in them as he tries to peer through the dimness at whoever is entering. ]

WHY HELLO CR I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED

[voktys]

[ Flinch she does not at the sight of him, bit if one had told her this man was cursed, she would have believed them in a heartbeat. And yet, she is not afraid – this is a place of worship, a holy space, perhaps not one in honour of R'hllor, and blessedly, not a sept to the seven, either, but a holy space all the same. Someone craved it, for prayer and salvation, and it stands in spite of the darkness around them.

Her own lantern isn't strange at all, perhaps it glows more red than it should, but that just might be her – red clings to her, hair and eyes and robes and all. A blue flame, however, she has not seen before. But then, she'd rather take blue than green. ]

Do I disturb you?

[ She steps inside regardless, but she offers this much for politeness. ]

RIGHT i just also love the fact someone is playing melisandre!!

[rehabbed]

[ Maybe it's the gothic robe silhouetting the woman standing there in the murky dimness, how ominous it looks, or maybe it's simply the unexpectedness of someone appearing suddenly from within the unnerving, endless darkness — but the hairs stand on the back of Jesse's neck at the way her calm, smoothly assertive voice echoes through the suffocatingly hallowed silence of the church. God, this place — not just the church, but this entire place — is so quiet. Like death. Straightening his skinny shoulders, Jesse shifts around on the spot, lifting his lantern to light the darkness smothering the space between himself and where the woman has entered the doorway. He can only just make her out. A small, quick shake of his head. ]

N-Nah, just... [ Throwing a cursory glance around the church, like he's half anticipating something else unexpected to emerge from within the darkness somewhere. His attention returns to her. ] Noticed light in here. Like, outside, when I was approaching this place. Came in to check it out. [ The candles, he means, over by the far wall. A pause, his eyes doing another quick assessing look at that robe she's got on. Makes her look like a monk, or a Sith Lord, or some religious kind of... whatever. Someone who runs this church, maybe? Maybe.: ] ...You, like, a nun or something?

1.

[chivalrouswench]

There is nothing to see anymore.

[ Sword, she had cried out at what she thought was the last moment, not able to bear the sight of Podrick and Hyle struggling at the ends of their nooses. They were going to die for her honour. Her failures.

It must have been too late. Or perhaps not since neither of them are here with her.

It doesn't really matter now, does it? Nothing does. She has failed one last time, and she will never be able to put it right.

The weight of it is so crushing that she cannot even muster any anger at the sight of Stannis' standardbearer. There is a hole inside her where that rage and grief should be. A numbness.

The darkness feels right, somehow. Had this place been bright and beautiful, she would not have been able to bear it. ]

[voktys]

[ Renly's kingsguard, the only woman she had ever seen hold such a position –– is this appropriate, somehow? She had supported a false king, surely some fall should follow her life. But then, Melisandre had supported the true one, and still, there had been daggers in the night, waiting for her.

What use is squabbling, now? She thinks it will come, in the future, no doubt of it. But now? Different wounds are fresh. ]

The past still exists, as does the present.

[ A pause, for a moment of acknowledgment. ]

For others. I should see that much, at least.

[chivalrouswench]

[ Brienne gives the woman a long, hard look. A red priestess. Of course. She had heard tell that Stannis had abandoned the Seven in favor of the Red god, but only now is she connecting the pieces when it comes to Melisandre. ]

I don't think the gods are here.

[ She's not sure where the impulse to say this comes from, but the words taste true on her tongue somehow.

Not that she ever boasted to feel any divine presence in the world of the living. ]

1

[preseance]

( folks're drawn to the bonfire. it's human nature to look for light in the dark, an' this is the biggest, brightest one around. he can't fault a soul among them for bidin' their time there a while. hell, he does too.

he's brought something from the inn — warm portions of broth to stave off the night, more than just meant for himself, and when the woman speaks he decides she ought to be the one that gets it. he sits down beside her companionably, holds one of the little tin cups out for her to take.

the way she says what she says don't put him in a mind of blindness. it's obvious the way her eyes track the light. she's lookin' for somethin' else. halfly, it puts him in the mind of how he ain't seen a single ghost since he got here and how eerie it feels to be without that constant companionship he's had since as far on back as he remembers.

politely, )

Ma'am. ( by way of greeting. ) What're you hopin' to see?

[voktys]

[ melisandre blinks, drawn from her trance, and looks at him, red eyes trying to make sense of his odd garb, and the cup he is offering her. it is steaming, and that alone is enough for her to crave it. ]

You have my thanks. [ she takes the cup, wrapping her hands around it, and gives it a careful sniff. broth, well, that, at least, she is no stranger to. there were times in her life when a bowl of it was all she'd have in a day, if she was so lucky. it is those things she can still find pleasure in, even here. ] Visions. A sign. A glimpse of the world I left behind, and its saviour.

[ she casts him another sidelong glance. ] If you could see something in the flames, wouldn't home be what you searched, too?

[ the night is dark ]

[telconta]

[ her prayer draws him. aragorn has no words in any tongue to offer. the fire keeps them warm. yet all of them are lost.

he stays behind her respectfully. waiting until she speaks. ]

It may be that there is nothing to be seen, lady.

[ for there is a lady's bearing about her. her words though unknown have the lilt of music. ]

[voktys]

[ here, she could correct him, could tell him that the courtesies were granted, but they were not given by god, and they held little meaning. but just as she bore the guards stannis assigned her, there is power in the trappings of higher blood than her own. she cannot sacrifice it here. ]

There is. I must simply learn to decipher it.

[ her god speaks in a language of flame, and has always done so. if she has to start all over again, she will. as long as it takes.

even she knows, when the pain won't come, that she may simply have been robbed of her sight. ]

My lord, are you a religious man?

⪧ the night is dark

[facelessgirl]

[ Arya finds her by the bonfire, staring into it. Because of course that's where she would linger.

It's the red that catches her eye first, that familiar deep shade that drinks the firelight and almost makes her glow like a cinder in the darkness. Arya approaches her warily after all that she's recently seen Melisandre do - or what she thinks she's recently seen this woman who stands before her do. She looks the same to Arya's eyes, and so it's with familiarity that Arya greets her as she silently slips up beside her. ]

Should have figured that I'd find you here.

[ Both here, in this place after death, and by the great bonfire. Arya doesn't look at her, just stares like Melisandre into the fire before them. She's not sure what else to say. Of all the people she knows who have died terrible deaths, this woman is the last one she'd hoped to see.

And yet she owes her so much. ]

Did you arrive with the others from the battle? Is that how it works?

[voktys]

[ This girl moves like a shadow, such is Melisandre's first thought, not startled, but appreciative. Wary, too, such movements take years to hone, and circumstance to refine.

Battle, she says. There have been many that saw her on the sidelines, in the King's tent, his rooms, his days of strategising. Whichever fire she tapped into, too, so most of this does not strike her... so odd. The Westerosi dress, too, fits the narrative.

The familiarity does not. She has never seen this girl. In a moment, this will change. ]

Which battle is it that you speak of?

[ Her head tilts ever so slightly, red eyes away from the fire and fixed on the girl. There is no doubt that she was killed in some violent manner – there are stains on her red dress, a deeper shade, familiar to one quick with the blade. ]