TEST DRIVE: OCTOBER

[empevents]

— TEST DRIVE: OCTOBER —

Welcome to empatheias' test drive meme. This test drive is to help interested players test their characters in the game's environment. We've included a few prompts that incorporate specific elements of the game, though you'll find all of them have a lot of leeway for players to get as creative as necessary. Before diving in, here are a few things we'd like to remind everyone about the game in general:

• Date reminders. Reserves open Saturday, September 24 and Applications (Canon | OC) open Saturday, October 1st.
  
  
• OC Reminder! Just a quick reminder that original characters are currently allowed. Those interested can also use the test drive. OCs do not need to be reserved.
  
  
• Emotions are key! Empatheias' premise focuses on how anyone's emotions can affect their environment, be it big or small. While not every emotion will cause a reaction, significant ones definitely will. How much effect a character will have will ultimately be up to you, the player. Also, while we're giving a lot of leeway for the test drive, keep in mind that there will be some limits in the actual game.
  
  
• Everyone has an amulet. All characters have a unique amulet that is specialized for them. It will contain all of their emotion drops and it serves as the network device. Remember, communication is telepathic. Otherwise, it works basically the same.
  
  
• Assume the character is already in the game. Because "OMG WHERE AM I IS THIS REAL LIFE" threads aren't going to be very helpful in this test drive! Plus those are going to happen in-game, anyway. So to make things easier, just assume that they've been around at least a week or so. Still learning the ropes, but not a complete "first day" experience.
  
  
• First or third person allowed. Your threads can be in either first or third, but we'd advise being flexible about it. Remember, these threads can also be used in your application for samples! Reminder: We only require one sample and it can be done in either format. We have also made a change to our sample requirements, so look over the Applications page!

Now with that out of the way, here are some prompts you guys can work from!


PROMPTS

• Prompt A: How about giving the emotions a try?

• Prompt B: Refer to the Task Board and choose a task your character may be interested in taking up. For this prompt, you could have your character ask for help, already be in the middle of the job, or react to it in some way. Perhaps they were an unfortunate victim or want to create a job countering an existing one. You could even have a prompt making a job request. Creating jobs for the purpose of the test drive is absolutely doable.

• Prompt C: How about giving the amulets a go? Start a telepathic conversation and see how it works. Remember, the amulets are sending out the owner's thoughts so might want to be careful about how the stream of consciousness goes...

• Prompt D: The increased exposure to Shaarnathian culture has prompted many in Verens to attempt to pick up on the discipline of Dunamis. The interest has become something of a popular trend, resulting in small businesses focusing around teaching the skill to those who are interested. Unfortunately, this doesn’t often go well for those who have lived on Empatheias for most of their life and relied so heavily on technology instead. In the seedier and more dubious schools this sometimes winds up disastrous, or outrageous in weird and interesting ways.

One particularly seedy school seems to take to the hands off approach, leaving their students alone to practice in an outside arena full of gourds of all sorts and sizes. Some also seem like they’ve gone quite rotten, resulting in a strange pungent odor. This goes about as well as expected when a particularly … enthusiastic … and poorly trained student manages to implode every last one into a glorious mess that rockets high into the sky.

Now half the shopping district is covered in various states of rotting gourd, and absolutely no one is happy about it. Nothing is spared, shops, stalls, and worst of all, the shoppers. Perhaps you’re one of the unfortunate victims of this mess, or you’re ready to help start the stinky cleanup.


• Prompt E: Someone is setting up a maze in the cornfield for kids and has run into an infestation that needs to be taken care of, but the bugs must be tackled in pairs because they're tricky bastards. They're a new species that not only releases a type of gas that makes one feel sluggish and apathetic, but they also "feed" off emotions. They're otherwise harmless, but it does make capture difficult. Since the use of pesticide is prohibited, the current tactic is for one person to act as "bait" while the other is armed with a special gun that shoots out a special paralyzing webbing. However, the shooter must stay hidden, and keep their emotions unnoticeable, or the bug will catch wind and will flee. After capture, they're thrown off the island. They're like roaches, no one wants them. In fact they also look like roaches. Still unwanted. Other tactics could be employed, but keep in mind that the farmers would like their crop to come out unharmed. Any damage incurred will come out of your pocket.


• Prompt F: A new acting troupe have established themselves in Verens, with a few new aspiring actors from Shaarnath. Through the use of Dunamis, the plays have become more lively and interactive. Most have welcomed them, but there are some groups who adhere to the "classic" way of acting, which can cause some tension.

• The troupe are advertising themselves on various street corners and parks, all dressed in bright, colorful clothing! But instead of a regular play, they are beckoning others to join them in various impromptu acts. Action, comedy, romance, tragedy—anything goes! So what do you say, care to join? You can even pull in or shove the person next to you forward instead. Remember to put some feeling into it! Bonus: The scene may require some dunamis for prop work. Try it out!
  
  
• Perhaps you're one of the people siding with the classic actors. Or maybe you just don't like plays in general. There's a bucket of tomatoes just waiting to be thrown. Even better, the angrier you are, the more rotten and sour the fruit will be.

Feel free to combine the scenarios and add whatever you'd like.


• Prompt G: Make your own! It could include peanut butter and/or jelly.

For your threads, put the Character Name and the Canon in the subject line to help readily identify them. You're also welcome to use more than one prompt for respondents to choose from. If you have any questions or want to brush up on the game information, refer to the Game Information entry. Otherwise, tag around and have fun!

Comments

[tacticalvisor]

That was going to be a hell of a storm. Didn't seem natural...and maybe it wasn't. 'Yeah?' he thought, distracted as he tried to see if it was coming from any one direction in particular. 'And where's that getting you, here?' The impression he was getting was that it was nowhere, if Reaper was this bored to play with him. Usually, he tried going straight for the kill.

Well, maybe he'd heard about how killing only did so much here. Not something 76 was interested in exploring, but even so...

He rolled his shoulders, stretching the muscles as he breathed. Focused. The veritable calm in the middle of the brewing storm, its still eye while just past that layer, the wall bristled with charge and readiness-

'You gonna come out and say hello, or you gonna just screw around?'

Come out and play, Reaper. He's practically offering himself up for you.

[gr1m]

There was a growl, a spike of irritation traveling over the connection before Reaper could stop it, but it was pulled back after a few seconds. 'They're low on my list. You on the other hand?' So very high up there, emotionally dead on his end as those words were; he'd gotten better at keeping that in check, even if he did slip occasionally.

He stood then, walking along the roof top somewhere just above Jack, careful as shadows wisped around his feet-

Before he stood directly behind 76, rising up from the ground, as if from the man's very shadow. "How nice of you to offer such an open invitation, Jack." Reaper didn't fire, even if a shotgun was in hand, instead moving his arm in some attempt to crack the weapon solidly against the back of the other man's head as he spoke. As if there may have been something a little more satisfying to that than shooting him.

Thunder crashed, the humidity uncomfortable.

[tacticalvisor]

Considering he'd been straining every sense, everything he had for any sort of tell?...well, Reaper could certainly move quickly, and perhaps he was even faster than 76 at times. But the old soldier didn't leave himself so open without a plan in mind.

Even so, his motions just barely saved him from a concussion; stepping forwards and turning around, throwing out a kick behind him as he twisted away. His own pulse rifle had been stored back where he was holing up, it only so useful and definitely an eyesore when he was out trying to walk about; his own mistake, letting go of his weapon. And while he wasn't powerless - there was that sidearm at his hip, to say nothing of his hand-to-hand skills - he found himself berating himself for the risk.

A bolt of lightning lanced in the sky above, more ozone following its flash. Around them, the first droplets of rain began to fall, albeit reluctantly. There was something viscous about them, the liquid not quite like water.

[gr1m]

There was a laugh, he actually laughed at the kick, taking a moment to use the side of the shotgun as a shield. "Getting slow, old man!" Dropping the weapon as he dug a heal in, some brace before Reaper launched himself to follow after 76 without worry of keeping hold of a Hellfire.

If nothing else he didn't take issue with putting them on 'even' footing. This wasn't about killing the other, oh no, but that didn't stop him from wanting to get his hands on Jack. Didn't stop him from wanting to do whatever he could to inflict some pain, any little bit of satisfaction would do right now, rather than leave him pacing and stewing in his inability to do anything to further his goals.

Which was why Reaper had pulled back an arm before using his own momentum to send a right hook aimed directly for the old soldier's gut, anything at all. Ignoring the fall of rain as it grew heavier, the smoke curling along the edges of his coat, the charged heat soaking the area.

[tacticalvisor]

Bright side; he wasn't shot in the back again. Down side; he was still now locked in hand to hand with a dangerous, unstable mercenary.

...actually, how was this a down side? Something deep down inside of him reveled at this opportunity, even as the rest of him swallowed it as inevitable and, at the most, necessary. But there was so much rage still within, a frustrated anger of why did you and if you'd just and couldn't you see and

instead of outright dodging or blocking that strike, he tried to grab, pull, throw on to the ground with a kick for good measure. To use Reaper's own momentum against him, even as he knew the man could dissipate in to smoke in an instant. The thought alone sent another frustrated burst through him, the next set of raindrops more like tacky hail than anything else.

[gr1m]

Where one was, the other wasn't going to be too far behind, and this wasn't the first time the two older soldiers clashed, and no doubt wouldn't be the last with how much smaller the 'cage' of sorts was. This world was smaller, they were both on this floating island together, and there was no where one could go where the other wouldn't eventually find them.

Reaper was thrilled about it, was almost enough to snuff out the anger at being unable to do more, that ending it wouldn't work in a place the dead came back. Ha, even here it worked better than what was done to him—

Talons dug into that old jacket the moment Reaper felt himself being thrown, aiming to jerk 76 down with him, even if he took a kick for the price of that. Didn't simply rip himself apart, took the hit to his advantage, taking some small satisfaction, even as he snarled beneath that mask to drag Jack down with him. Clawing at him, trying to force the other down and pin him, evenly matched as they once had been so many things were different now.

Thunder boomed, rattling windows as lightning flashed across the darkened sky. Some of that humidity cooling, dark tinted drops of rain mixing with what was more tacky hail.

[tacticalvisor]

And down they went.

If Reaper was so intent on being pinned, well, 76 could certainly oblige; letting his body armor take the brunt of the claws (there were reasons he was covered from brow-to-toe, that was one of them), he did what he could to catch himself. And by that he tried to land on Reaper, pulling back a fist to strike at the man's mask and, fingers crossed, knock the damn thing aside. So long as Reaper had the decency to stay solid, well, he'd have the decency to beat the living shit out of him.

...not that there was much left. Living, that was. Even so, he threw another punch, then another, caught up in the rush of adrenaline and thrill of combat. So much that he didn't notice some of that stuff landing on his pants, jacket, even his hair. Thin wisps of steam emitted from where they made contact, as if they'd landed on a hot skillet as opposed to a man.

[gr1m]

There was an even louder snarl as Reaper went down, but not without any fight on his own end of things. Back hitting hard on the ground, head jerking to the side to keep his mask from being knocked aside, twisting himself all the while just to keep himself moving. Taking hits as necessary as he caught hold of a wrist, twisting 76's arm sharply to the side.

Armor and leather both allowed him to absorb some of the hits, a few felt as teeth gritted behind his own mask, aiming to use his own weight to trap the other soldier underneath him instead-

"This all you've got, boy scout? Losing your touch," hissed out, venom dripping from every word. Any sound of the drops hitting against leather, how they hissed on contact, drowned out by anything and everything else. His entire focus on Jack, aiming to wrap fingers around his throat.

[tacticalvisor]

Reaper's snarl was matched by 76's growl, the sound like some feral beast warring with a fellow predator. Maybe he was rolled, but he tried to keep rolling, fighting for the upper hand in this because he knew, he knew that if he lapsed for an instant Reaper wouldn't hesitate to claw to the advantage and maybe death was different here but that didn't mean there weren't other problems-

Sizzling, snarling, 76 reached to outright grab the other's mask and shove it to the side. If Reyes was going to go for his throat, he'd go for his damn face, relentlessly throwing punches as they rolled together in a lethal tangle of soldier and mercenary.

[gr1m]

Reaper kept a hand at 76's throat, metal talons threatening to dig through the fabric there, having gone past the collar of his jacket. Keeping his grip tight, even if not enough to outright choke, keeping that rolling momentum going in the street. Refusing to give if he couldn't trap the other on his back, the rain falling that much harder as thunder boomed and lightning streaked across the sky.

The so called rain coming down harder, heavier, sticking to cobblestone and building alike. Clinging to his coat, to jacket, masks, everything as steam wisped even with Reaper's own smoke.

Trying to dig a knee hard against 76's side, head tilting away and disallowing him the satisfaction of removing his mask. Throwing a punch with his free hand in turn for each one he was given. Hitting hard and without mercy, aiming to get the upper hand in any way Reaper could manage.

[tacticalvisor]

It was like a sludge, slowly building and coalescing against itself. A warm, toxic-smelling substance reminiscent of nothing so much as tar about to drag another victim down in to its depths and suffocate them with its mass. 76 ignored it, attention focused solely on the fight at hand. Reaching up to claw at that wrist threatening to choke him, the thinner fabric there allowing more mobility but only doing so much to, well, protect.

Bastard. What did he think he could do here? The emotions alone were enough of a visceral reminder of the poison between them. Practically enough to choke, if his facemask wasn't there to help filter out fumes. Even so, the scent was starting to leak in. Not yet enough to really distract him, but noticed and then pushed aside in lieu of the far more basic and far more important thoughts of action; reaction. strike; counter, block. motion, response.

He tried a strike to Reaper's inner elbow, still gripping at the wrist with his other hand. Hopefully it'd be enough for him to lunge forwards, suddenly, to deliver a headbutt.

[gr1m]

He could so easily tear the man's throat out, the flimsy fabric did nothing but cover, and yet Reaper refrained. Merely kept up the pressure, using it to try and keep 76 pushed back and unable to do much in reaching for that white mask. Even if it made their wrestling for whatever upper hand there was to have awkward. Reaper didn't care, all he cared about was the action, the mild satisfaction of landing any hit at all.

Hatred rolling off him and adding to that toxic mixture, almost causing it to burn off him as more gathered and pooled around them.

Hissing sharply at the strike, throwing his weight into a knee right into 76's gut. Aiming to knock the air out of him, a hand planting over the other's face as he finally released his throat in order to stop that headbutt short, aiming to slam Morrison's head into the ground.

[tacticalvisor]

Only so flimsy, but compared to Reaper's claws, the winner of a fight there was decided before it started. Not that it seemed to be starting at all, a fact dimly registered and then dismissed for far more important things. Like, say, the whole knee in his gut and sudden loss of breath.

Ow.

The strike stunned him enough to stop the headbutt, but the release of pressure around his throat served as warning. Just enough for him to brace himself, anyway, throwing out a hand to try and at least soften the blow. It still fucking hurt, sharp red sparks flickering in the air around him, but he'd been hurt before. Built to take hurt, and give just as if not even better than he got.

So instead of recoiling like another's first instinct may have been, he shoved a hand at Reaper's throat, a sharp jab while he tried to pull away and get a moment's recovery.

[gr1m]

It was enough, the jab at his throat forcing Reaper back and his own momentum causing him to break from their warring on the ground, wheezing from beneath that mask. Hadn't had the time to react more than that, head shaking as ribbons of fire flickered around him, burning away further at the sludge raining down in his area.

Reaper laughed, even as he kneeled a few feet away from 76, not yet rising back to his feet, braced all the while as if he was prepared to lunge for the man once again. The sound lacked mirth, tinged with something far crueler as something cold and sharp mingled with the viscous and toxic rain; sharp pieces of ice that burned as they hit, different from any normal sting.

"Is that all you've got, Jack? Getting winded on me already?" The sneer carried in his voice, some taunt at knocking the breathe out of the other.