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

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.

"Well I was going to congratulate you on finding us a lever, but I see you have other plans," Izumo commented, calmly. He turned back to the door, the dropped down to a crouch. He laid flat on the floor and squinted under the door. After a few moments he scrambled back up with a sneeze.

"Yup," He said, then took a step back. He swung around and side-kicked the door; chakra behind the kick and reinforcing his bones. Something woodenly heavy grated along concrete, the door groaned and dented, and the dark crack widened. Izumo stepped back, regaining his balance by reabsorbing the momentum, and swore a little.

Now that was a damn good door. The dent left by his sneakered heel was barely four inches across and only just visible. His heel was going to be bruised as hell.

He tugged his jeans up to examine his jarred ankle, revealing his socks were tall (knee-height in fact), and striped in little narrow busy stripes of sky blue and lime green.

Edited 2013-09-28 15:05 (UTC)

"I find it beneficial to have a backup plan just in case."

Which was what she was doing. Being able to walk out the door was far preferable to climbing out the ceiling, but if that was the only way out she would take it. The sudden thud of Izumo kicking the door sent her spinning around to face with with a lock of stunned shock and fury.

"I thought we had decided not to kick that door anymore considering what happened last time."

"But it's opening now," Izumo pointed out, or tried to. He got halfway through when a sudden dense rain made him splutter a particularly creative gutter-curse from Konoha's slum, involving incest, bestiality, and anatomically impossible acts of fornication.

The he blinked, and dusted off his head.

Sprinkles. Multi-coloured sprinkles.

Izumo stared for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed long and loud, helplessly. His laugh was rich and full and deep.

Joan tried not to laugh. She really did, but even with one hand clamped over her mouth and the other arm curled over her stomach she couldn't contain it. The laughter bubbled out of her. It took a long time for her to pull herself together enough to be able to speak.

"I hate to say I told you so."

At least this time it was better than whipped cream. As an extra bonus, she hadn't been involved either.

Izumo, meanwhile, had performed a little impromptu dance, shaking sprinkles everywhere. He moved quick and lithe, with predatory grace, and a definitely suggestive roll of the hips there. He dusted his hair again, making sure it was all clear, and grinned at Joan.

"Hey, pass me your lever, there, and I think we can get the door open now. Promise I won't kick it again, cross my little black heart." He did so, performing the gesture with an very nontraditional pinky. His eyes glittered with mirth, and his smile remained bright and clear.

Joan managed to prevent her eye roll, but it was a close thing. Instead she pulled the hats off the rack, stacked them, and handed the rack itself off to Izumo. She wasn't sure the wood was going to hold up under the stress of its new role.

"It isn't made with very strong wood unfortunately."

"Well, it doesn't have to last too long. I really only need to see out, if it comes to that."

He smiled, took the hat rack, and considered it. With a flourish he drew a kunai from his hip pocket; the little short throwing dagger glittered as he spun it before gripping it and using it to knock the hat pegs off the top, rendering it into a smaller shape at the end, the better to fit through the door crack.

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