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blowingsteam2013-07-25 12:13 am
henleinmods) wrote in blowingsteam2013-07-25 12:13 am
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE
Feel free to give anyone you'd like to bring in a whirl. Threads here are also welcomed when giving samples in your applications.
Before we get to the prompts, here are a few important reminders:
- Your character doesn't know their name or the name of anyone in their canon. On their wrist is a prison id number that is formatted as follows: The letter of their crime (M-murder, A-arson, TH-theft, TR-treason, B-battery, D-destruction), the number of their cell (01-09, 10-32), and then three random numbers. So an id that reads M23-879 lets you know this is a murderer who lives in cell 23. Even though names are impossible to recall, they can recall the faces and voices of castmates if a mun chooses.
- They don't remember doing the crime that sent them here, or how they arrived here at all. The presence of other memories is up to the mun, as long as characterization isn't sacrificed.
- There's a new shallow metal slot in the back of their head.
- This is a prose game, so please keep the formatting traditional. "Dialog goes in quotations." Actions happen outside.
The Prison
Welcome to Henlein, prisoner. Feel free to explore the prison. The circular hallway stretches on past 32 cells and comes to an end at the lobby. A glass wall welcomes you inside, showing a magnificent view of The Turner, a giant clock in the center of the prison. Over its face stretches a large and thick layer of glass. A section of the lobby's glass wall opens, allowing entry but there's nothing to gain other than a closer look at the cogs underfoot.
Besides cells, the hallway also passes a men's and a women's shower, a old dim cafeteria, and two store rooms. In the cafeteria is an Eye machine. Hold up your bracelet under its lamp and it will dispense one ration pack. In the store rooms are jump suits in all crime colors and sizes as well as shoes and very little else. To the south, by the lobby are also rooms 101 through 104. Each of these strangely ornate doors are locked. Too bad.
Besides cells, the hallway also passes a men's and a women's shower, a old dim cafeteria, and two store rooms. In the cafeteria is an Eye machine. Hold up your bracelet under its lamp and it will dispense one ration pack. In the store rooms are jump suits in all crime colors and sizes as well as shoes and very little else. To the south, by the lobby are also rooms 101 through 104. Each of these strangely ornate doors are locked. Too bad.
The Labyrinth
If you venture past the lobby's exiting hallway, you'll enter into the labyrinth. The walls are warm and still pulse with The Turner's beat. We hope you don't get too lost as you travel its curving pathways. If you're lucky, you might find a ration pack at the end of some sorry dead end.
If you're unlucky, you may find a needlepoint spider instead. These small clockwork pests hold a mild sedative in their fangs. It helps slow you down so that by time the swarm comes, you won't get away. While they don't eat you, they are very territorial and will kill to protect their areas. Also lurking these dim halls are metal scorpions. Though they travel alone, they're just as poisonous as their organic counterparts. If you see a flash of light speed past an entrance, run. Run and don't look back. Lava hounds like to play hunt through the labyrinth, but if they see you they will attack you. These beasts usually travel in small groups of three, so be prepared for a fight. Removing their magma heads from their bodies or cutting out their obsidian hearts are the key to finishing these puppies off.
If you're unlucky, you may find a needlepoint spider instead. These small clockwork pests hold a mild sedative in their fangs. It helps slow you down so that by time the swarm comes, you won't get away. While they don't eat you, they are very territorial and will kill to protect their areas. Also lurking these dim halls are metal scorpions. Though they travel alone, they're just as poisonous as their organic counterparts. If you see a flash of light speed past an entrance, run. Run and don't look back. Lava hounds like to play hunt through the labyrinth, but if they see you they will attack you. These beasts usually travel in small groups of three, so be prepared for a fight. Removing their magma heads from their bodies or cutting out their obsidian hearts are the key to finishing these puppies off.
The Streets
It's bright out here, hot and glowing. The city exhales steam from a nearby vent in the bronze street by the labyrinth's exit. The avenues stretch before you, radiating from the curved line that cuts through metal street and solid sidewalk. You're free to wander down any you'd like.
If you travel north, you'll have the pleasure of seeing Exhalo stretch above the city's skyline. The volcano is especially beautiful tonight, ablaze with fresh magma. All you'd have to do is climb a forgotten fire escape to catch a glimpse of the lava fields just past the city's massive wall.
A breeze welcomes you if you travel south, making the hot and bitter air all the more humid. The steam that bellows up from the ocean passes just past the tops of the buildings and obscures the night sky. However, the pipes that snake overhead here drip with welcomed condensation and leave puddles in the streets below.
To the east are stores, though almost all of them are empty and dark inside. A cafe shines with a soft light and beckons with soft music playing over the ambient ticking of Henlein. If you venture inside, there are a few special treats inside. Come and enjoy fresh coffee and stale cakes and breads. As for attendants, there are none. Take what you like; you're already a criminal.
To the west the lights are fewer and far between. In the darkness, the ticking fades away, leaving rare silence in the shadows. If you venture this way, you'll find a warehouse. Inside isn't much, but there are a few good mattresses, far better than those what were in the prison. You might even find a few useful tools out here, a wrench, a crowbar, a roll of medical bandages. It's almost as if someone else was living here and happened to step out. Will you take what's not yours? Perhaps you'll claim this bed as your own. Whatever you do, just know you may not be alone for long.
If you travel north, you'll have the pleasure of seeing Exhalo stretch above the city's skyline. The volcano is especially beautiful tonight, ablaze with fresh magma. All you'd have to do is climb a forgotten fire escape to catch a glimpse of the lava fields just past the city's massive wall.
A breeze welcomes you if you travel south, making the hot and bitter air all the more humid. The steam that bellows up from the ocean passes just past the tops of the buildings and obscures the night sky. However, the pipes that snake overhead here drip with welcomed condensation and leave puddles in the streets below.
To the east are stores, though almost all of them are empty and dark inside. A cafe shines with a soft light and beckons with soft music playing over the ambient ticking of Henlein. If you venture inside, there are a few special treats inside. Come and enjoy fresh coffee and stale cakes and breads. As for attendants, there are none. Take what you like; you're already a criminal.
To the west the lights are fewer and far between. In the darkness, the ticking fades away, leaving rare silence in the shadows. If you venture this way, you'll find a warehouse. Inside isn't much, but there are a few good mattresses, far better than those what were in the prison. You might even find a few useful tools out here, a wrench, a crowbar, a roll of medical bandages. It's almost as if someone else was living here and happened to step out. Will you take what's not yours? Perhaps you'll claim this bed as your own. Whatever you do, just know you may not be alone for long.
Feel free to make up your own as well. Want to play out your character's first prosthetic? Go for it. Want to share a memory or experience the first memory cog insertion? Please do! For more information on any of these things, please stop by our FAQ
The Labyrinth (Who's got two thumbs and half a journal with no icons? This chick!)
"Whoa there. I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Voice testing is go!
"It's just a little one. I am pretty sure I could bi-... stomp it pretty easily."
Yeah, stomping it sounds so less crazy.
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"Not going to argue there, they're definitely bad news."
That's something Aaron remembers. Still, sometimes you have to walk along side the enemy to get the job done, right? What job was that anyways? Nevermind that. Right now he is a bit lost and there's also the matter of trails of fire. Something is burning and it is mobile. And it smells like it belongs here more than they do.
"I'm more worried about the smell in the air than making bad deals with spiders right now, though."
SWEET, yes, let's have fun with lava hounds
OH HUH. Darran hadn't even noticed that smell! Now he'll take a moment to get a good whiff, though in homid he's not going to get anything more than 'yep, something sure is burning.'
As if he ever pays attention to his environment, he has a pack for that.He completely misses the fact that whatever is burning is also moving, and jumps straight to 'the building might be on fire.'"Shit, you're right. And this crapsack place doesn't look like it's got sprinklers. Did you catch the way out? I think we gotta go that way, and make a left..."
Because that can only end in good things.
"That way and left..."
Well, if you can't trust the big, dumb, teenage Ahroun; who can you trust? Leaving the spider behind, Aaron nods and takes the lead. Not because he is exceptionally brave or skilled, but because he's used to moving fast and letting the events around him sort themselves out.
"Okay, just keep up. I don't want to get cooked in this place."
Of course he heads down the hall and takes the first left only to have to come to an abrupt halt. He jams his heals into the ground and hopes the kid's reflexes are good enough not to run him down. Several feet in front of him, standing there seemingly surprised that prey came to them, are a couple of Lava Hounds. Fire drips off the bodies of these monsters as they bare their teeth. Luck is really not this prisoner’s side today.
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At least he's still pretty damn agile. As Aaron comes to a screeching stop Darran quickly sidesteps him and winds up standing next to him, and getting a good eyeful of these... whatever they are. Reflexively, he activates two powers-- he can't quite remember what they're called, but one makes him resistant to burning and the other makes him very hard to injure-- and starts to shift up. As he does, he grins at Aaron and says, "Or hey, maybe we can ask these guys for directions."
He's done this so often that he's more preoccupied with the powers he just activated. Why can't he remember their names? And did it always tingle like that? Wasn't there something-- wait.
Darran's not actually shifting to werewolf-- instead, after what feels to him like one of the longest, most embarrassing pauses of his life, his fingertip pop long, curved claws. And that is it. No fur on his arms, no three-foot height boost. He claps a hand to his face, horrified-- no snout, no fangs.
"What the FUUUUUU--" Which is, naturally, when the first hound rushes him and sends them both ass over teakettle.
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Then he sees the other sprout claws and look surprised and shocked. Did he not expect the claw thing? Aaron didn't quite expected the whole claw thing. Aaron doesn't get much time to react, though before one of the hounds barrels Darran over. Aaron quickly turns his attention back to the other hound now charging and decides it's time to pull the only trump card he remembers. Shifting up to werecoyote, he twists and swipes at the one as it leaps past him. Claws dig in and the liquid fire burns through fur and flesh on Aaron's hand. He yelps and flicks his hand sending as much lava as he could to the ground. It hurts. It hurts a lot. It didn't burn through muscle and bone yet, though, and his fingers still work. Glancing towards Darran to see if he is a cooked corpse yet.
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He has, in fact, registered the werecoyote at his side, but for now that's just the normal way of things when he's in a fight. In a minute or two it'll sink in.
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Too bad you have to behead them or cut out their hearts to kill them.The werecoyote looks around and reaches up and grabs a pipe, tugging hard until the metal bends and snaps. Wrenching it off and tossing it to the other kid beside him as the dogs charge.As the one leaps for the werecoyote's throat, he shifts again. This time down to a coyote as the thing leaps over him. Darting forward before spinning around and growling. Hoping to keep these fights one on one.
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The hound takes a step back and snarls at him, circling around to find a weak point in his defense. Darran snarls right back, hefting the pipe like a javelin and scanning the hallway they're trapped in. Neither the floor nor the walls look giving enough to really pin the hound to-- but if he keeps using the pipe as a battering weapon, he's only going to be burning himself.
Pinning it is, then. Darran bares his teeth at the hound again, trying to goad it into another rush. "Yeah, c'mon you motherfucker!" Here's hoping Aaron's half of the fight is going alright, because Dar's a bit distracted.
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As he passes Darran's hound, he bites down on its back leg and yanks. Forcing the thing to fall into a sitting position for a moment and horribly burning his coyote mouth. That's going to be terrible for a while.
Barely slowing he continues to sprint ahead, leading the hound away after hopefully giving Darran a chance to take down his own while it is off balance. Aaron's not trying to escape just yet, but he needs to keep moving if he wants to avoid being mauled.
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Shifting up for what he hopes is the last time, he stumbles into a sprint on two legs. Now Aaron is in full werecoyote. His one hand still doesn't look great, and it's about to look a whole lot worst. Aaron skids to a stop, turns and crouches. Digging the claws of his feet into the ground, he leaps as the hound pounces, landing square on its spine. Using his weight to drive the thing to the ground he turns and tries very hard to ignore the pain as fur, then flesh burns away under his feet. Claws go around the things neck, digging into its throat and he lets out a loud growl as he tears a path up its neck. Waiting until his two clawed hands meet at the back of the neck before grabbing its head with stiffening fingers. Pushing down with his legs, he forces up with all his might. Not nearly as strong as a werewolf, Aaron can still give a power lifter a run for his money in this form. With most of the flesh torn, he rips the head clean off and falls backwards onto the ground.
Laying there on his back, he lets the head roll away. His hands and feet are burned and hideous and right now he just wants the pain to fade. Harsh breathing comes through his scarred muzzle as he lays there.
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Finally getting a good look at Aaron's werecoyote form, Dar grins in spite of himself. He can tell the other man is in a lot of pain, but-- he's a werecoyote! An ally!-- between the adrenaline spike and finding this out, he's too jazzed to stay somber. Besides, he'll heal. Shit, will he heal? Did the others? Damn everything, another thing he can't remember.
"Uh, I really hope werecoyotes heal fast, because I've got no healing gifts, sorry man. That was... someone else's job.
"But, hey! You're a werecoyote! That's awesome! My pack used to run with werecoyotes, they were cool dudes! (Yes, even Fallback.) I'm a werewolf, in case you didn't guess, but something about this place is fucking me up. I can't seem to shift up.
"Oh, uh... sorry to babble at you when you can't reply. Um. Do you heal? 'Cause I can try to go get you some help, but it seems a little dangerous to leave you here. Uhh... tap once for I should hang here with you, twice for I should get help, three times for I should get you the fuck outta here?"
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Okay, that's more a thud from his fist on the ground beside him because that is easier. Aaron pushes himself up with his elbows so he can sit while Darran babbles. Nothing is beautiful and everything hurts. He brings up one hairless burned hand and forces a thumb’s up, even if his fingers don't quite agree with him yet.
He tests out his fit, slowly rotating his ankles and wiggles his toes. Yep, that hurts. That hurts a lot. They move though, so that's a good thing. He slowly shifts down, not all the way because he's not going to risk it. Unlike werewolves, his step in between is not Neanderthal man. He looks a little taller, a little older, a little thicker haired but otherwise normal in this form.
Another thing of note is that his clothes seem to form around him as his fur vanishes. Someone remembers Rite of Binding at least. His hands are raw and burned, but his feet are back in boots so he'll try to ignore them for now. His lips are also swollen, cracked and burned. He coughs a bit and decides since he still can't feel his tongue, talking won't really be a thing.
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One thing he
broodschews over while Aaron's sorting himself out is where the fuck they are. He used to live in Camden, then Philadelphia, but this sure as shit ain't Philly. Then things get fuzzy and confused, but didn't he spend a lot of time in spirit realms? There was something... he and his pack had to move quick, from realm to realm, for... reasons? He must be trapped in some freaky spirit realm, that's the only explanation that makes sense. Some freaky clockwork realm with fucking dogs made out of fucking fire.He doesn't miss Aaron's Rite of Binding, though it mostly just reminds him of the predicament he's in. Goddamn it, he's pretty sure he could do that too, if only he could fucking shift up. He remembers for damn sure that he's got a weapon or two spiritually tied to his werewolf form. And if he could shift back down to human, instead of being stuck in it, he'd have a decent pair of jeans and could trash this fucking jumpsuit.
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Then again, his luck really isn't holding up at the moment. Maybe he shouldn't trust it to get them out of there alive. His feet really hurt but not enough to make walking impossible, just uncomfortable. Of all the injuries, though, his mouth being burned is the one that bugs him the most. Mostly because he usually has a lot to say.
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When he breaks the silence, he actually does so fairly quietly. Who knows how far sound carries down these corridors. "So, uh-- I don't know how safe our cells are, with crazy shit like that wandering around. Plus, what if whoever put us there comes back around to check up, you know? I was thinking of trying to find somewhere outside to hole up."
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He knows danger is exciting and fun but survival is also key here. Right now, he's not in the best condition for excitement. Even in this form he's smaller than Darran as far as physical build goes. He might look older, but he's not as good at this as Darran is. While walking, he shows his bracelet to Darran, tapping where it says TR and a bunch of numbers.
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