outofshadows | Test Drive Meme

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Test Drive Meme

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Joan wasn't much one for conversation, especially with someone she didn't know, but she knew how to play the game. In fact, she didn't just know how to play it. She was a master at it. Just because she was out of the field didn't mean that the politicking and fake conversations had ended.

"Joan. And no, I wouldn't, though I would be interested in how you plan on lighting them."

He probably hadn't thought far enough ahead to realize that he didn't have a lighter, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe he had another method that they could use to their advantage in gaining light. At this point any possibility, no matter how slim, was worth looking into.

"Ah, then do you mind if I smoke?" Izumo asked, and fished through another coat pocket. He had a single match in one of those cheap hotel matchbooks, found with the cigarettes. That was all. Not too useful, but not too bad, either.

He paused, trying to judge where she was, then retreated back into his own personal corner.

Joan would have crossed her arms and simply eyed him in response, but given the fact he couldn't see her she figured a verbal answer was more appropriate. It would also get her point across quicker and hopefully lead them to a way out.

"Given our situation, I think you could use whatever you are going to use to light that for a far better purpose. We have more than enough supply to feed a fire."

And it wouldn't be hard to keep contained as long as they did some pre-planning prior to lighting it.

"It's a matchbook match, and no, I'm not setting anything on fire, the floor is wood. Besides, the smoke would probably kill us."

Izumo shook out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He spoke around it, reasonably clear. Appropriating things from other people's pockets didn't phase him; he was well accustomed to it, in fact.

"That is, if I can get it to light. These things are fuckin' bitches to light sometimes."

"Both of those things could be avoided if we work it out right. Though, you're right, the second one will kill at least one of us, though not in the way you were initially thinking."

But, if he had made his choice Joan was going to accept it whether or not she agreed with it. This wasn't a time when she could pull rank and use her authority. While she didn't technically need it to make people do what she wanted them to, her other options were limited in the dark. Dominating facial expressions and body language did nothing when they couldn't be seen.

"Well, that's why I was asking. If you cared, why didn't you say no?" Izumo asked, faintly disgruntled. He crossed his arms and gave her a stare...or at least, stared in her general direction.

"Now if you wanna pull a candle or a lantern out of your pocket and light it, go right on ahead. But unless it's meant to be lit, I'm not setting it on fire. Trapped once in a burning building was one too many damn times for me, but I don't know about you, lady."

"I'd like to keep my options open so I can either find one or make one."

He wasn't the only one that had been through a rather heated situation, literally. While she hadn't been trapped inside a burning building, she had been nearby when a rather important one had exploded in Nairobi. The wave of heat and chaos that followed wasn't exactly something she liked to remember.

"It seems to be our only option. If we were going to find out way out of here without light we would have done so already."

Izumo sighed. "Do you care if I smoke or not? And the door's over here, it's jammed fuckin' good and I can't get it undone. Our options are limited. Smoke, drink, and be happy, 'cause tomorrow we get let out. Or something like that."

He pondered, then added, "Or we could always go for Seven Minutes in Heaven. I'm Izumo, by the way, and your name is...?"

Joan closed her eyes for a moment and tried to reign in her anger. At this point she would have much preferred being trapped alone in this room. Instead she was just going to have to make do with what she had and try to keep from throttling him.

"That is something you should have mentioned earlier since we had agreed to split the room and search. Now, try to come up with a better explanation then "over here" so I can find it and see what I can do."

His questions went unanswered for the moment, but Joan could use their answers to her advantage. It would get her want she wanted.

"If you can manage to do that, I will happily tell you my name."

Lie. There won't be any "happily" about it, but she would tell him.

"Liar. You've been nothing but pissed since you got here," Izumo accused, amiably, and lit the match.

It flared brightly, illuminating them both. So she was a little older than he'd thought, but still damn fine, and she was blonde. Izumo smiled as he cupped his hands, lit his cigarette, and shook the match out with a curse as it burned his fingertips. He took a long drag and stepped aside, the end of the smoke glowing dull red in the dark.

"Right behind me, sugar. It's not locked, I could've picked it. It's jammed, and if I can't get it unstuck, I doubt you can, but hell, you can try." Some of the banging earlier had not so much been him running into the wall, he'd tried to get the door down too. Hadn't worked, and he'd put some chakra behind it. So. They'd just have to wait.

"Yes, actually, I am. I don't find being locked in a dark coat closet as sexually exciting as you seem to."

She moved toward the door, her face expressionless. At first it looked like she was going to walk right past him. Instead she paused and tipped her head slightly to look at him. Her eyes weren't narrowed in anger or anything of the sort, but when she spoke her voice held a very cold and clear threat.

"Call me sugar again and that cigarette of yours may end up in places you might wish it didn't."

Joan flashed him a bit of a smile before moving again to the door. She had no intention of trying to bash it open. He was right on that score. If he couldn't get it open that way she had no chance. She could, however, use her head to figure out how it was jammed.

Izumo raised both eyebrows. He wasn't actually bothered by the threat. It would take more than that to bother him. "Then can I call you bitch? It's what you're being," he replied, tone sugar-sweet.

He pulled another drag, breathed out a trail of smoke. It was a nice large closet, at least. Izumo'd been in smaller for stakeouts before. He leaned against the wall again.

"Being civil to one another could at least make this bearable," he added, airily.

Edited 2013-08-28 19:12 (UTC)

Joan trailed her fingers along the edges of the door, searching for something that was causing the door to jam. She'd already tried to push it and realized it hadn't moved at all. Nothing was blocking the door from the outside that she could tell, or at least that wasn't the only problem. While she continued searching she answered his question.

"You can, but if you start that now you're going to run out of words to use when I actually am being a bitch. This is being civil."

And, for Joan, it really was. When you had to deal with consistent politics you could express any emotion in a way that was technically considered civil.

"Really? Daaaamn." Izumo whistled. "And I never run out of ugly names to call people, but let's stick with being nice, mmm'kay Miss Bitchy?"

He offered a charming grin, visible only faintly behind the dull red glow of the cigarette. "So if we're stuck and you're not interested in whiskey, smoking, or sex, I guess that leaves us inane small talk and other such nonsense to keep us entertained. Perhaps you could start with your name?"

He gestured with a careless hand. Though short - only five foot five inches - and built stockily, his hands were long and slender. They looked a bit odd compared to the rest of him as a result.

Edited 2013-08-28 21:08 (UTC)

"Yes, all of those things would be out."

Personally she would prefer inane chatter be out too, but she doubted that would ever actually happen. At least she could keep most of her attention focused on figuring out what was blocking the door than on the actual conversation.

"Since you did lead me to the door like I asked, I guess my name is appropriate. Joan. Now did you find anything thin? Like a ruler or metal something?"

"I already tried, but I'm not giving you my lockpicks. You'll probably bend them, and they were damn expensive."

Izumo was a ninja, after all. Of course he had lockpicks. And several small weapons, even though he was in civvies. Jeans and a faded T-shirt, ratty well-worn sneakers with rainbow laces. His dark head was uncovered, and as he gestured with the cigarette in hand the light glinted off the rings in his ears. Three on each side; two lobe and one cartilage.

"I'm something of an expert on getting in and out of places, and I couldn't get out. So we're stuck, for a bit, but given the number of coats in here and how none of them are the same, somebody's gotta open this door sooner or later, Joan."

Izumo frowned and tried her name again, adjusting the inflection. "Joan. Now that's a tricky one."

"If there were a lock on this side of the door I would have had it open already."

Izumo wasn't the only one that could get in and out of places he wasn't meant to be in. Picking locks was one of the early lessons at the Farm, and one that was actually used continually. Even outside of the field Joan had needed to make use of the skill.

"I was thinking of something a bit longer than lockpicks, though just as thin."

She wasn't as willing to wait for someone to open the door as he was. While she wasn't one to be entirely pessimistic, it was part of her philosophy that you always worked in a back-up plan. You always had nets in place just in case things went sideways. There was always a chance that someone wouldn't come open the door.

"Feel free to try out Mrs. Campbell if you'd prefer."

"Oooh, missus, hmm? Married, then?" Izumo returned, cheerfully. "And no, nothing longer than lockpicks." Well, a kunai, but he wasn't giving her the slender ninja knife. She'd probably try to do him some harm, as frosty as she was being.

If worst came to worst, he was pretty sure he could risk a blind translocation to outside, but those...didn't always end well. When a moving ninja and a piece of heavy furniture, or a wall, or a tree, tried to occupy the same space at the same time, guess which one ended up messily exploding? The ninja. Izumo liked life with all his organs internal, thanks.

He took another drag. Hmm, for commercially packed, these were good. Probably Marlboros.

"Yes."

He wasn't going to get more of an explanation than that. Her marriage wasn't something she really talked about with anyone, sometimes her own husband included.

With the necessary tools not at her immediately disposal, Joan left her search of the door and started looking around nearby for what she needed. If she had to resort to digging through coats again she would. Someone had to carry a pocket knife, right?

"Not happily, then, I see," Izumo decided, gauging her tone. He watched her dim shadow move about, never moving from where he leaned on the wall. "And a do-er. Can't be still, hmm, Joan."

It amused him to watch people and pick them apart. As she was his sole companion for the conceivable future, he might as well try to find out what made her tick. It wasn't like any other entertainment options were throwing themselves his way.

"Yes, happily. I am simply not happy right now."

It was only a partial lie. Sort of. Sometimes she was very happy in her marriage. Unfortunately lies, secrets, and suspicions had plagued the union from the start and weren't likely to end any time soon.

"I can, if necessary, but I would prefer not to leave my fate up to someone opening a door if I can do something about it. You could try to be helpful as well."

"Lie to me if you like. I don't care."

Izumo shrugged. She wasn't being very interesting. Too bad, so sad.

"I was helpful. Unlike you, I can recognize when I'm simply wasting energy. Come sit down, busybody, and I'll teach you a drinking game."

Joan turned slightly and lifted an eyebrow at him in silent query. Lie to him? No. She wasn't lying to him. At least not to the extent that she would consider a lie.

"If you were so worried about wasting energy you wouldn't be running your mouth. And I know plenty of drinking games, thank you."

Izumo said, "Well, then, come play one with me."

He was bored. Her trying to get out after he had already done so? Both boring and pointless. So they should do something interesting, obviously. Drinking games were one, since she'd turned down sex. Izumo had his dice, but no cards. He doubted she'd gamble, anyway, and what did they have to bet? cigarettes and pocket lint? Hell, she hadn't wanted the cigarettes earlier; he was keeping those.

"You don't have anything I would want to drink, and I wouldn't trust anything you find in some random coat pocket unless it was sealed."

Once a spy, always a spy. Just the thought of the number of ways someone could poison an unattended container of alcohol could have her going on for hours. Even someone not as distrustful as Joan would have to admit that the risk was rather high.

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