Test Drive Meme

[shadowmods]

Throne of Shadows
TEST DRIVE MEME!!!

New to Throne of Shadows? Long time player thinking of apping a new character? Welcome to our test drive meme! Experiment with active and potential muses! Here is a place where you can test out characters for the setting and accrue samples for your applications! Roll on the scenarios provided below, or come up with your own!

Scenario Builder

You are...

1. Lost in the temple
2. Trapped in a cloak room
3. Stargazing on a balcony
4. In the bathroom
5. In a bedroom
6. Swimming in a courtyard pool

You’re feeling...

1. Inexplicably happy
2. Like you could fall asleep at any moment
3. Angry enough to punch someone
4. Nostalgic or sentimental
5. Like someone stabbed you—oh, hey, they did, fancy that
6. Seriously horny. Must be something in the water.

Somewhat unusually...

1. You can only speak in rhyme
2. You are naked
3. You suddenly cannot verbally communicate
4. There’s a lot of alcohol/drugs here!
5. You are gender swapped
6. You have amnesia

Comments

Winifred 'Fred' Burkle - AtS

[fredless]

3-4-2

[idolstolemylook]

Out on a balcony, what could it matter if he was naked? It wasn't really something Spike made a habit of, but modesty was for people who had some surprises left, and Spike was feeling at the end of things. Maybe it was just because he couldn't help but think back, an activity he tried to avoid most of the time. How many times had he seen the stars, and not watched at all? No one noticed the sun, after all, unless it bothered them. But when Spike gazed up tonight, he could see in the patterns the tiny dots made all the things he'd done, and seen, and been.

LOL

[fredless]

It's funny, how she always forgives the stars first.

Yanked into another unfamiliar places with occasionally familiar faces and no matter how far away home feels as you pile sleep after sleep after sleep between you and it, until you can't come close to touching everything you miss anymore? Well, fair or not? Fate or the whim of your own teacher...

She's done this before. But for all that, or maybe because of it, Fred forgives the stars.

Because there's enough there that's almost something else. Because at least there's still a pattern there to find, something to learn. And because when you're looking up you're not looking at yourself.

Of course sometimes when you look down, there's Spike.

Only Spike.

Because somehow he's gone and forgotten that this place does have clothes.

You know... [She's look somewhere in the of a small hollow near his shoulder. It's a safe little hollow, as they go] As bad as things got before, I at least managed a sack dress. Unless this is laundry day. Laundry day's were tough.

[idolstolemylook]

Spike glances over, surprised, a little concerned about the whole nudity thing but only in the sense that the girl might freak out. Girls have a way of doing that, after all.

"Oh," he says, crossing his arms over his chest, which does little to nothing for his modesty. "Thought I was alone."

[fredless]

There's something easy about the way she speaks to him, almost teasing in it's familiarity. Even then something's tugging at the corner of Fred's mouth.

"Is that your way of telling me to leave?"

2-4-2 idek

[advancedbosoms]

[She had just been trying to find the library. Cordelia misses home, misses LA, and her best bet at finding something familiar, she decides, is a book from home--and, okay, maybe she's hoping to find an issue of Marie Claire.

Instead, she opens the wrong door and winds up in a closet, filled with cloaks and furs and--wait, is that her shirt? Confused about why her clothes have been claimed by the closet and why she's suddenly naked, she tries to redress.

And finds herself naked again.

And again.

Great. Fabulous. A clothes eating closet, and there's no handle on the inside. Time to begin pounding on the door, crying out for help, and hoping Spike isn't the one to find her.]

All the nekkid :P

[fredless]

[Fred's on her way back from the library, with a pile of books dangerously approaching the double digits. There's a mix of both old and new, educational with a dash of comfort food. Because while most people reach for brownie batter ice cream, she's always been more of a complex string theory girl.

(Not that she's got anything against ice cream. heck, after Pylea she developed a whole new appreciation for the range of refrigerated foods)


Readjusting her pile in preparation for the long haul, Fred is just about to head back to her room when a distant pounding catches her attention. Following the noise into it crescendoed into a proper racket, Fred once again navigates her books so that she can open the door]

\o/

[advancedbosoms]

[And as luck would have it, as the door is opened, a substantial amount of dark hair and naked, curvy flesh comes spilling out, bumping into Fred before gracelessly catapulting forward onto the floor.

The naked, brunette heap speaks. Or mumbles? Makes a sound of some kind, anyway, though it's hard to interpret as it's spoken directly into the rug beneath her. It sounds a bit like:]

Mrmph.

[fredless]

[The books tumble free, and Fred's intimate knowledge of gravity and less intimate knowledge of Cordy -- because it's Cordy -- let's her know that they're all going to collide in at least two or three places.

Fred scrambles to catch what she can before they can injure anything especially sensative...]

[advancedbosoms]

Ow.

[Cordelia pushes herself up to a sitting position--

And then gapes, lowering her hands, fingers spread, trying to cover all her most private bits.]

Fred.

I'm naked.

[fredless]

[Well that solves the first mystery at least. Fred flushes slightly, though she's not exactly sure why. It's not like Cordy has anything to be embarrassed about.

Because really, as things went...]

I'm guessing this isn't intentional then?

[She reaches out to pick up the biggest of the books and opens it wide long the length of the spine before extending it as an offering. There's at least a hope of being helpful]

[advancedbosoms]

[Why the hell would this be intentional—

Is what she means to say. Instead, she sees the book and it reminds her of books from home, which reminds her of Wesley, which reminds her of all those times she and Wesley spent researching whatever godforsaken slimy, horned creature had most recently surfaced to spread apocalypse and doom and just like that, the fire is knocked out of her.]

Do you think you and Wesley would have worked out? [Suddenly spoken, as she reaches to take the book and cover herself a bit.] You know, if interdimensional kidnappings hadn't gotten in the way?

[fredless]

[Fred blinks and is silent for a long, long while.

She's honesty not sure if it still the sight of Cordy's obvious, abundant nakedness. Or that they're having this conversation now.

Or just, truthfully, that they're having this conversation.

She releases a sigh.

It's the conversation]

Wesley, he...

[He's complicated. But then, they're all complicated. And besides that, this wasn't a topic that ever seemed to find actual air At least putting aside that one horrible fight with Charles. Whatever sat between her and Wesley -- a thing that seemed to go from friendly to quietly flirting to that not kind of friendly that can make a girls knees more like jelly -- seemed to be firmly put away and locked up in a desk drawer somewhere when they found themselves at Wolfram & Hart. And she'd told herself that was ok. More than ok, even. The right decision, considering how much they were up against. And the farther she got from all of that, the more it seemed like maybe it was those last dark months that churned her insides end over end. Maybe it hadn't been Wesley at all.

So why is she sitting here now, remembering how her knees used to feel?]

It just don't think it was ever the right time.

[advancedbosoms]

It never is, is it?

[She sits on the arm of a nearby chair, holding the book in front of her, legs crossed at the knee.

It looks ridiculous, and a stark contrast to her solemn tone.]

Sometimes I think our lives are just some kind of Leo Tolstoy novel. [A bit of an intellectual drop there, but she remembers getting bummed out when she read Anna Karenina in high school--mostly because she had been under the impression that it was a story about a Russian model.]

[fredless]

[Fred's thoughts have drifted, thanks to Cordy's question. But not so far that she's past hearing her friend's voice]

I think we're long past anything you'd find in a book somewhere. [Her expression softens, still slightly far away] I remember thinking that, you know. My first summer in the hotel. That you guys were better than any story I could read. There was...

[So much. Too much, sometimes. But that was something else. Fred's focus drifts back Cordy]

Why're we talking about Wesley?

6-4- Maybe one? Idk

[capt_forehead]

[Since Angel had found the pool a few weeks ago, he'd snuck away from the rest of the Candidates for a few hours every day and spent it in the pool. The temple had changed the scene around the Roman-Greek styled stone that lined the always lukewarm water. There was grass that ran up to meet the stones and the flowers that bloomed in the corner were Jasmine.

Swimming at night gave Angel an additional feeling of solitude. Yes, he brooded slightly through his long armed strokes that pulled his dead weight in the water but he'd meet a balance of playing horrific memories and playing warmer ones.]