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 had pulled a coat off a hanger and was busy using it to try and get more of the gross topping off of her. It was more smearing it into her dress than anything else, but at least she wouldn't be visibly covered. Still sticky, yes, but there wasn't anything she could do about that.

When she was done she dropped the coat on the ground and turned back toward Izumo. She was far enough away that at first she didn't notice that he was no longer covered in whipped cream. Something simply seemed off. After she got a bit closer she realized what it was and her eyes widened in shock.

"What...?"

Izumo's smirk was smug. "Magic. I have a great many talents." He tipped his head, grinning. "If you like I could try to do it for you."

'Try,' now that he'd figured it out he could do it just the same for her. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, but he could do it. "You'd be less sticky, at least." She's managed to wipe off a good deal, but Izumo could still get better than that; down into the fabric of her dress and all across her skin. Chakra, Izumo mused, was a wonderful thing.

"Won't hurt. Might tingle a little."

Joan had focused more on the "try" than anything else. It seemed to be a rather important detail in Izumo's offer.

"And if your attempt fails? What then?"

She didn't particularly want to take a risk on something that she wouldn't have believed existed prior to her sudden entrapment in a coat closet.

"Then you're sticky and my ego takes a damn hard blow," Izumo answered, cheerfully. "But up to you, sugar."

He waggled his fingers at her, hands upheld and spread with palms to her. He smiled.

Joan wanted to believe him, but she wasn't a trusting person by nature. It was asking a lot for her to believe that Izumo's explanation of what would happen if he failed. To go beyond that and trust him to try something on her that she didn't understand? That was almost beyond impossible. It was all going to come down to how badly she wanted to get rid of the stickiness.

"If you are sure that is all that will happen even if everything possible went wrong."

"Yup." Izumo nodded. Lie; if everything possible to go wrong went wrong, he'd end up with the whole-body equivilent of a migraine. But that was highly unlikely.

He folded his hands through signs: compared to the rest of his stocky build, his hands were slender and fine-boned, an artist's hands. They were calloused, with a light scattering of scars. They moved smoothly, gracefully, twisting easily through the seals. He then held out his hands to her. He could sense the chakra humming across his skin, waiting for release, but unless she had supernatural senses, she wouldn't notice a difference.

Joan watched his motions closely and a little uneasily. She had no idea what any of the signs meant. When he finally stopped and held his hands out to her Joan wasn't sure what to make of it. She didn't know what she was supposed to do either. A small lift of an eyebrow asked the question. Was she supposed to come closer? Touch his hands? She didn't know.

Izumo chuckled softly, warmly, a just-between-them kind of laugh. He smiled, and stepped closer; close enough to kiss. One hand settled on her shoulder, and the other curved at her waist, just above the flare of her hip. The jutsu shimmered over her, pulled at the water and the mess. She would perceive it maybe as a wash of heat, or a tingle like static electricity, or like being immersed in cool water: civilian lovers had given Izumo a thousand descriptions of what it felt like to be touched with chakra, and it varied on individual perception. Some felt it more strongly than others, depending on how aware of it they were, just like ninja.

For himself, Izumo heard chakra, though he'd never heard his own. Other ninja he knew saw it, or felt it, or smelled it, and there was one guy Izumo knew who could taste it.

The tricky nature of the jutsu, pressing the limits of Izumo's control, required a good deal of concentration. His smile stayed on his lips, but his eyes were not-quite-focused, the mask just a little cracked. The water swelled and gathered and drew along with it the "sediment" of the chemicals and cream, and as Izumo stepped back, hands sliding free and closing in, the mess congealed into a ball. He held this between his hands and beamed brightly at Joan, before he bent and placed the mess on the floor.

As soon as his hand left it, it lost its shape and melted into a pile of gloop.

"Ta-dah, magic! And no harm done, Joan." Izumo winked at her, playfully, arms spread in a showman's triumph.

Joan forced herself to stay completely still as Izumo worked. His chakra danced over her, almost reminding her of silk or fingers dancing over her skin. IF his eyes had been focused she would have been rather uneasy staring at him, but the way it was she could watch without concern.

When he finally stepped away Joan felt like a 180 degree turn had taken place.

"That seems to be the case."

"Seems to be?" Izumo returned, flirtily, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled, and let his hands fall, and hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. The faded lettering on his dark grey shirt was indistinct, well-washed and loved. There was a rusty stain over the left hip of his jeans, matching the stains around the torn knees of his jeans. Beneath the loose lines of his clothing was a stocky, well-muscled body, compact and fighting-fit.

He stood with a careless grace, at his ease, watching her with one warm dark eye visible, the other shielded behind his bangs. His was a face unremarkable, not handsome nor ugly, and it was only the lively personality in him that made him noticeable.

Well, that and the long bangs, and the rainbow shoe-laces.

"You look pretty nice and clean and unharmed to me." He gave her a once-over, from head-to-toe, then grinned.

Joan let his eyes roam over her. She'd had far worse do the same before more than once. While her dress could easily fit into the "fits like a glove" category, she'd also worn far more form fitting and revealing clothing in her younger days and during her time in the field. Now she stuck more with dresses that would not be mistaken for professional, though perhaps a bit more date-like than most. The red dress she had on was one of her staples. Sleeveless, above the knee, with a v neckline that didn't show anything it shouldn't. Arthur's Navy pendant hung around her neck, matched well with simple gold earrings.

"I may look that way but it is hard to feel clean after you've been covered in dessert topping and haven't taken a shower."

"You think my magic trick wouldn't get everything? Trust me, no shower necessary, except in your head." Izumo nodded, decisively, bangs swaying, earrings glinting in the light. He smiled cheerily.

Not quite true, but at least she wasn't sticky, not even her hair. He'd done a good job on that one. It pleased him. That was a tricky jutsu, after all! He eyed the door, then glanced at Joan. Something in her attitude had shifted subtly, and he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was his offer of helping, maybe it was the toned-down, more casual kind of flirting.

Izumo speculated she was probably around his own age, but still very good looking.

"Anything else my magic tricks can do for you?" he chirped, teasingly, and threw in a wink.

"I believe you could easily guess the answer to that question, but I would also fear letting you get anywhere near that door again."

Next time they could get hit with something a lot worse than whipped cream. Even so, they had to find a way out somehow. Despite the whipped creaming Joan wasn't willing to sit around and wait for someone to open the door from the other side if she had other options. At the moment, she wasn't quite ready to give up on finding a way out on her own.

"Well," Izumo confessed, "There is one trick I could try to get us out of here, but it's not exactly the safest one in the world. That's why I haven't tried it yet. I like not being dead, which is generally what happens if it goes wrong."

Translocating blind? Yeah, not the brightest idea in the world. As a last resort, though, Izumo was willing to try it.

"Let's try to avoid that if we can. I'm willing to take risks, but I prefer having a back up plan that will keep me alive. There has to be a better way out."

She couldn't think of any at the moment beyond looking at the new door. If it didn't provide any possibilities, they could try to break through the walls. It wouldn't be easy, and it wasn't the best choice, but she considered it a better option than possible death if something went wrong with Izumo's trick.

"Eh, we all die eventually. Might as well know what killed you," Izumo offered, with a wry chuckle. So it wasn't the best of humor, but he thought maybe she'd get it. It was the graveyard ninja humor, that gritty way of laughing at what you couldn't change.

And sometimes at what you could.

Izumo stretched, arms over his head, head tipped back. For a moment the press of his shirt against his chest outlined his nipple piercings. He relaxed again, and cocked a grin at her.

"Might as well die for something worth fighting for," she countered.

Dying simply to get out of a closet sounded incredibly pathetic. She'd survived bombings, firefights, hostage situations, being in the hands of terrorists. To die in a closet? Not going to happen.

Deciding not to argue further with him, she returned to the door and started inspecting it again. Basically she was starting all over, but hopefully she would have better luck with this door.

"And getting out isn't, hmmm?" Izumo needled, almost gently, smiling. Well, then, not willing to wait for help, but not willing to take any possible chance. Interesting. He rebalanced his mental weight of her, a quick shift of calculations. "I see."

He padded closer, bumped shoulders with her as he ostensibly bent to examine the door as well.

"I suppose we can always describe the door to one another to keep from having the same issue as last time."

Joan was willing to take risks, but she always had a back up plan in place. Safety nets were a must. Always. She ignored his shoulder bump but didn't step away.

"You would think one time would be enough."

Not that she ever expected things to come easy, but it would be nice once in a while.

"Gods, demons, sadists....once is never enough," Izumo returned, reaching out and running his fingers lightly over the door. "Oak panels, heavy, brass locks, hinges on the outside?" he asked her, glancing over his shoulder, smirking a little.

"Yes, unfortunately."

With the door as heavy as it was they would stand no chance at all of breaking it open with a kick or well placed shoulder. Not having access to the hinges prevented that method of opening it too. Of course, would they even need either of them? Joan reached out and simply turned the knob. At first she was hopeful. The door pushed inward slightly like it was about to open, but then stopped. No matter how much weight she put into it, the door didn't move another centimeter.

"Well, so much for that."

Izumo made a thoughtful hum, and pushed against the door himself. Very well budged, definitely. A twist of the wrist as he passed his hand over his hip, and suddenly he had a gleaming glittering senbon in hand. The slender metal needle, pointed on both ends, was about six inches long and about a twelve gauge in size. He held it poised between his first two fingers, and began probing along the cracks the barely-opened door revealed, seeing was was beyond it.

"Well, it's dark out there," he commented.

Joan's concern kicked up a few notches at the sudden sight of the senbon. It wasn't that surprising that he had a weapon on him, but obviously he was very capable of using it. That was enough reason to keep her eyes on him. She really did not want to see that coming at her, with or without warning.

"I'm not sure that is encouraging."

At least they could see out though, as minor as that view was.

"Didn't say it was," Izumo answered, nonchalant. "Ah." He paused, then jabbed at something under the door, listening. Thunk thunk. Wood. He contemplated that a moment, crouched on the floor. Then he twirled the senbon showily across his fingers, like one might walk a pencil over their knuckles, and secreted it away again. He had a slim case tucked in the waistband of his pants, along with a few kunai on the opposite hip and his tanto at the small of his back.

He settled himself with chakra, then pushed, setting a shoulder against the door. Nothing shifted. He stood up, absently tapping his tongue-piercing against the roof of his mouth.

He leaned against the door, hummed a moment, then braced with chakra again and gave it a damn good shove. The door rattled against the immovable object, and wood groaned, but nothing gave. Izumo leaned back and eyed the door thoughtfully.

Well, he'd done a little bit better than she had, but that wasn't surprising considering their size differences. Unfortunately that better wasn't quite good enough. Figuring she had very little chance of getting the door open herself, Joan left Izumo to it and focused on what could be another option.

She searched the room and easily found a pole that she could use in the form of a hat stand. Thankfully it was light enough for her to lift without too much difficulty. Holding the base with one hand and the shaft with the other she raised it up until it touched the ceiling. Some ceilings had removable panels. If this was one of those they could use it as an escape route.

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