(no subject)

[astonishing_xmods]

THE TEST DRIVE MEME

Hello, True Believers!

This is for anyone wanting to test out their characters in the setting before the applications open, see what clicks. Multiples will be allowed for this post, and you can generally assume any threads are a self-contained continuity unless you feel like getting creative.

Just post a thread with your CHARACTER NAME and CANON NAME in the title with a prompt and others will reply. Prompts and threads can be action spam or prose or whatever. These threads can be used on the sample section of your application, as well. Go out and have fun!


Be sure to read up on all game information and the "!event" tag, as well as the weekly updates to make sure you have all your ducks in a row.

Comments

2

[friendofdorothy]

"You're just full of strong passions." Liir says, hands in pockets against hte chill, before immediately regretting it, blushing green. Gilbert is the type to take that as flirtation. Scratch that, to turn it into flirtation.

He wonders how sincere he could be about this. Maybe he takes to ecstasy of the religious kind the way he takes to other kinds. Hedonism but with a holy flavor. But then, he could be judging him too harshly again.

[whatsatisfiesme]

"Is that meant to flatter me?"

It would probably be a mistake to take anything about Gilbert's pose just now for sincere devotion. He is reading, but it's in much the same way he'd leaf through a book of poems or one of the dogeared Jules Verne novels stashed away in his dorm room. The words aren't as important to him as the cold seeping in through his shirt and making him shudder or the winged statue he's crouched at the foot of. There's only one kind of ecstasy for him, and it has to be sensual.

"Or are you just having a laugh?"

He doesn't need to look up and see Liir turning green to feel the discomfort coming off him, then, but he does anyway. It's intriguing, watching him catch the wrong hue like that. And before he'd even said a word! If he hadn't been in a dangerous mood already, that still would have been enough to bait out the teasing smile that comes now.

"Perhaps you should get in out of the cold, Monsieur Thropp. You've gone flushed."

[friendofdorothy]

This is exactly why [northern, respectable] Ozians look askance at the French. They're so uninhibited. And while Liir's hardly high society himself, he's definitely got some of that Emerald City reserve. You don't come out of the army without at least a little.

There's a pause while he thinks of what to say. Wait, he should get in from the cold? Even though he knows he's just saying it to tease him, Liir can tell that Gilbert must be on the verge of hypothermia. He can imagine that he gets a thrill out of that too.

"You're going to die out here if you keep that up. Not the kind of martyrdom that helps our people at all."

God, did I just say "our people"? The thought is even more embarrassing.

[whatsatisfiesme]

"I would have picked the right place for it, at least."

Gilbert laughs, craning his neck back to look towards the winged memorial overhead. If he were truly in a Messianic mood, that would have more of his attention than the book now tucked atop his lap. He flips shut the cover - all those "begats" were getting old, anyway - and folds his hands over it, all his focus migrating to Liir, instead.

"I don't think I'll die of sitting out in the snow for an hour." Not when the Mansion's front door is only a few yards behind him, anyway. If this were self-destructive, rather than just reckless, he'd have made for the lakehouse. "Though, you're welcome to wait with me, if you'd like to be sure?"

[friendofdorothy]

He'll see what he's always seen: a tall, wiry boy, filled out but with a natural awkwardness that no amount of physical grace and strength can completely cover. He shifts his feet under Gilbert's gaze, shrugs. He sits beside him in the snow, having nothing better to do either.

He thinks he can feel the body heat radiating off him, in contrast to the snow. Maybe that's his power.

"I didn't get much in the way of religious education. Just the prayers they'd make us say in the army. I suppose my soul wasn't considered worth making a big fuss over."

That's one of the strange things about Liir. He'll be more self-deprecating with people who he knows very little, who (like Gilbert) mock him, than his few friends.

[whatsatisfiesme]

"People like that never mind much about just one soul, do they?"

For "people like that," read "humans."

In truth, though, Gilbert can't muster much contempt under the ironic tone he puts on then. For one, the slight tremble his voice has taken on makes it hard to carry off, and, for another, he's much too busy leaning himself up against Liir as soon as he settles down. Just shoulder to shoulder, though he inclines his head like he's considering resting it against him, too.

He's not particularly warm through his winter clothes, but it'll have to do.

"Mmn."

[friendofdorothy]

Liir stiffens, then relaxes. No doubt his natural tendency to be a wallflower isn't helped much by his recently manifesting secondary power. An errant hair and he could find himself involuntarily reliving Gilbert's memories, a blur of intimate details, if his centering exercises don't work.

"Yes, it's usually our collective souls. They're much less messy in the abstract."

But then, Liir finds people in general the same way, mutant or baseline. Easier to apprehend in a book than live. Case in point: He's looking at the grey, slushy sky rather than Gilbert, even though he's definitely not hard to look at.

[whatsatisfiesme]

It's fortunate, then, that Gilbert doesn't think to lean much closer. There's a giggle, making no attempt to hide itself, when Liir's hackles go up from the contact, but nothing more. He pillows his head against the (less than comfortable) curve of his companion's shoulder, and settles in. That's all.

He's not in the mood to try to rattle Liir more than that, really. Feeling the bristle of self-consciousness coming off him, like a second layer of gooseflesh over what the cold's already given him, is enough for the time being. It helps to blanch out the memory of the dull, neutral halls he'd ducked away from.

"I'm not making you nervous like this, am I?" he asks, peeking up through the waves of his hair to where Liir's keeping his gaze averted. It's a teasing question because, of course, he can already feel the answer.

"I could fix that for you, you know."

[friendofdorothy]

It's less comfortable because he's fucking bony.

Several emotions flash, one after the other, at Gilbert's provocation: desire, guilt, affection, sadness at separation. Trism, in other words.

"I doubt you could cure that. I've been trying for some time."

[whatsatisfiesme]

"No, I could."

It's Gilbert's turn to stiffen, then, freezing against Liir's shoulder for a split-second before he sits up and edges away. The wash of empathic sensation coming off the boy he'd intended to tease is more and different than he'd expected. It stretches out towards something absent, too distant to identify.

It is all far too familiar, and it rather ruins his plan to tweak Liir's nerves with his powers. Instead, he stands, brushing off his pantlegs while watching him with a small, stung frown.

"It's what I do, after all." He's not bothering to retrieve the book he's left lying where he was crouched a moment ago. The library can count it as missing, for all he cares. "Some other time, though. I believe I've had enough Bible study for today."

[friendofdorothy]

Something happened and Gilbert's bratty bravado cracks for just a few seconds. Liir wonders if it's something he said. Or if he smells bad after working out. He stands, forgets the book too.

"I might take you up on that someday. When there's absolutely nothing I need to worry about." Which is never.