[meme] test drive

[citycouncil]

January Test Drive is here!

Tag into this post with characters you're thinking of apping to the game (characters who are not currently in-game or currently reserved by someone else). It can be just a tag, a brief EP, whatever you want. You can be new to the game, or simply want to test out a fresh pup. Tag each other with these characters or those already in game, and have fun.

Also, please include the name of their canon somewhere in or on the comment or on their profile page.

Comments

Ted Lasso

[bbqsauce]

Ted Lasso

[lazyandincompetent]

Wowee, now that’s a moustache. I’m sure the ladies like jumping on that, yeah? Just giving it a ride?

Doom Patrol

[thebeeteam]

Rita Farr

Prince Caspian/The Chronicles of Narnia

[problemof]

Susan Pevensie [still the movie version, still Irked]

[busybetty]

So, the rundown is, this is Darrow, you're probably not dead, but you're definitely not where you're supposed to be.

With me so far?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

[walkedthroughfire]

Buffy Summers

[magic_chaser]

Hi, my name's Shepard and I'm from Omaha, Nebraska.

Can I ask you if you know what's going on here?

Ted Lasso

[v_v_v_v_v]

Roy Kent

[complexfemalecharacter]

You alright?

Sex Education

[sex_kid]

Otis Milburn

[complexfemalecharacter]

You're going to have to grovel for at least a week before I even think about talking to you again.

DC Comics

[sing_anyway]

Stephanie Brown/Batgirl

[v_v_v_v_v]

What the fuck are you wearing on your head?

Harrow the Ninth (the Locked Tomb trilogy)

[undonewithout]

Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of Drearburh, Keeper of the Locked Tomb, Heir to the House of the Ninth

Harrowhark the First, Ninth Saint to serve the King Undying

[fuck_cunt]

Excuse me? Hey, do you know where w-[he stops, curling in on himself and looking, briefly, like he might retch, though he in no way looks ill. then he pulls his head to the side and clears his throat]...where we are?

Star Trek Discovery

[binary_star]

Michael Burnham

[bbqsauce]

Is that your name, Michael? You know, I always wondered why people didn't give their children more creative names. You meet a thousand Johns and Janes and they're always what you'd expect, but Michael. That's a great name.

Anyone ever call you Mike?

Misfits

[lazyandincompetent]

Nathan Young

[horrorofahero]

So that's what Klaus would look like mostly cleaned up. Huh.

Beginners

[waitforthelion]

Oliver Fields (and Arthur)

[fuck_cunt]

Hey, any relation to the cookie lady?

Easy Virtue (2008)

[auctionofinnocence]

Larita has dipped in and out of this city only a few times, but she's starting to get a sense for some of it. There's a nice little bar she'd liked the look of: quiet, smoky, a bit like Jim, if she's honest. She shouldn't want to see him, of all people, here in this strange place. Or even Furber, who'd been as much of a friend as he could possibly be. She should want to see Johnny — her husband, her Panda, her sweet, sweet manchild. But all she can think of is the dark, betrayed look on his face when he'd learned the truth about Tom, and...

Well.

Best not to think about that.

She sits, instead, on a road-side bench and lights a slender, filterless cigarette, watching the impossibly shiny, wide-bodied cars roll by. They hardly seem like cars, anymore, but there's still a part of her that watches them wistfully as they pass.

[ Catch Lari in a faux-fur high collared coat, long, wide-legged black slacks, low heels, and her hair in a notable 1920s coif. ]

Stranger Things

[eggos]

She's back. Eleven looks around with furrowed brow for the faces that are becoming familiar. It's strange, that she remembers them all when she's here. When she's back in Hawkins, she doesn't remember them at all.

Is this something Papa has done to her? Is she breaking, like Mama did? Or maybe this is another place: another Upside Down, only not upside down at all, but... sideways. Next door.

Is that possible? But why wouldn't it be?

She shakes her head, because it's a train of thought that she isn't prepared to follow, not without Mike and the rest of the Party there to help. They talk all of their thoughts out loud, and that seems to help them find where they need to go. Eleven's never been good at talking.

Except now, when she's so caught up in herself that she nearly collides with someone suddenly in her path.

"Sorry," she says, in her particular brand of monotone that makes her sound not at all sorry.

[magic_chaser]

"Hey, it's okay," Shepard says easily. He's not the type of guy to get bent out of shape over... pretty much anything, so having a preteen collide with him is far from something to even stop to think about.

Except he happens to glance down at her and spy the expression on her face. It's not sad exactly, but she looks distressed, maybe? A little?

A little is enough for Shepard.

"Hey, you okay?"

wayward son (simon snow series)

[magic_chaser]

Shepard

[andeverythinginbetween]

No shit! Not the Shepard, right? First human Spectre?

chronicles of narnia

[giftless]

Edmund Pevensie

Re: chronicles of narnia

[problemof]

Oh, wonderful, we're back here again. Still no sign of Peter or Lucy, I assume.

Sonata of a Flame

[beklemmt]

J (goes by Park Jae-eun, may be somewhat soot-smudged with some scattered bloodstains, it's nothing, it's fine)

[busybetty]

Lisa looks at him, taking in his soot-smudged appearance, and it's only because she's looking at him like that that she notices the blood, too.

This isn't getting easier. She'd thought the more people she talked to about this place, the easier it would be to talk about it at all. But now she's looking at someone who could be a murderer, or could be dead, and because she's not where she belongs she can't really tell, and...

God, Lisa, just ask him.

"You... okay?"

Wicked Fox/Vicious Spirits

[hotgoblinbachelor]

[Family name redacted] Junu, your local gorgeous, money-obsessed dokkaebi who has no tragic backstory.

[byherrules]

I thought it was supposed to be two truths and one lie?

Haunter

[busybetty]

Lisa Johnson (is very ghosty and wants to know where her house is)

[magic_chaser]

Hi, I'm Shepard and I'm from Omaha, Nebraska. Would you happen to know what's going on here?

The Umbrella Academy

[number1_himbo]

Luther Hargreeves has never been known for being quick.

[horrorofahero]

So uh, what was being on the moon like?

Sonata of a Flame

[hismelody]

S

(has had a very long day and been crying over a notebook)

[complexfemalecharacter]

Uh... you alright there?

What We Do In The Shadows (TV)

[guillermo]

"My name is Guillermo—" he's saying when everything changes.

Guillermo blinks into the sudden onslaught of daylight with a vaguely startled huff before panic grips him, several disconnected synapses firing at once as he reaches out. "Master, look out!" he yelps thoughtlessly, reaching out in an even more thoughtless gesture, the part of him not entirely taken up by disorientation still processing the equally disorienting fact that Nandor is nowhere to be seen. There he'd been just a moment ago, alongside Nadja and Laszlo and Colin Robinson, and now they're all just... gone. Not into piles of smoldering ash, either; the whole theatre is gone, the bodies, the camera crew, everything. He's just... outside, in broad daylight, only he's pretty sure this isn't anywhere on Staten Island, either.

"What the- what the f-" he babbles, turning about in panicky half-circles, all the adrenaline and conviction that had just overtaken him now immediately replaced by a weak deflated feeling. Where is he? The only non-mundane explanation he can think of for this is witches, but they had a perfectly good working relationship last he checked. Mundane options are much, much worse. Did he just... black out? Sleepwalk? Is he suffering from short-term amnesia?

He looks down to take stock of himself, but he's still exactly as he'd been in that theatre, which he's quite certain was only seconds ago: his clothes and his long coat absolutely soaked with blood, the makeshift bandolier still carrying a few stakes in it, bottles of holy water in his pockets and another stake still clutched tightly in his hand. There are people around, he realizes belatedly, who just heard him yell Master at no one and are now giving him a wide berth, probably on account of the copious amounts of blood. He offers a few passers-by a mildly unhinged smile, then turns away to walk somewhere as if he has any idea where he's going. "Mierda," he hisses under his breath.

[magic_chaser]

Shepard has been in this city all of an hour, long enough to have some idea of what's expected of him, but little else.

That doesn't matter though, because he's just seen someone appear out of thin air. What's more, it's a person covered in blood and adorned with stakes. His eyes go wide and he forgets to move, too much in awe of what he's seeing.

But then the other man starts to move and Shepard realizes he has to move, too. He jogs in a leisurely fashion after him, sure he'll catch up with his long legs.

"Hey," he calls out. "Hey, hi. I'm Shepard." He offers out a hand.

Vicious Spirits

[byherrules]

It should be unnerving, changing locations in the blink of an eye. One moment, she was surrounded by high rises, neon lights, the scent of fried oil wafting towards her from a distance. The next, she's standing at the entrance of a train station, bustling with people headed in every direction. It should be unnerving.

Instead, her heart races with exhilaration, bright against the backdrop of guilt.

Maybe, she thinks to herself, maybe it's all a dream. And if it's a dream, no reason not to explore.

With her hands clenched tight, Lee Somin steps onto the sidewalk, takes a deep breath, and walks.

[magic_chaser]

She walks, and she nearly walks right into Shepard, who has also disembarked from the train and is looking anywhere but in front of him.

The lanky young man collides with her, practically runs up on top of her, and has to reach out for her shoulders to steady himself, lest they crash to the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Sorry, miss. I wasn't looking at where I was going. There's too much going on."

The Last of Us 2

[lost_inthedarkness]

Abby Anderson

[lil_asskicker]

Hey. You need help or something?

The Terror

[tobeseen]

Commander James Fitzjames

[intherealworld]

Hello again.

Hadestown

[howtheworldcouldbe]

It's winter, here. It wasn't, last time, Orpheus is pretty sure. Maybe it was. He can't remember; he never remembers this place until he's here, and he's not even sure time passes the same way. It's the same old story, told again and again, maybe different this time.

This time makes more sense, sort of; it's winter on the road to Hadestown, too, food scarce and wind cold.

He should've been listening. He should've--
When he gets back, he'll find her.

Here it's not quite as windy; more wet than anything, even if it is recognizably winter. He has his lyre, though, and he pulls it around, picking a pattern that he barely hears, just feels good under his fingers, feels calm, while he watches people come and go.

[OOC: Orpheus's lyre is definitely a guitar. Come say hi. Or give him a minute and he'll introduce himself to you extremely bluntly. Kid's not great at social graces but he sure can sing.]

[hismelody]

It wasn't winter, at home. Thinking about that is strange, still — home, as if he's so far away from there, which apparently he is, but shouldn't be. S has had it all explained to him, but he still can't make any sense of it, and it's cold when it wasn't supposed to be. He has a jacket, at least, a long leather coat that he keeps pulled around himself, J's journal tucked safely into its pocket. If that notebook was all he had left before, it's even truer now, and only an intense desire not to embarrass himself keeps him from clutching it now. There's too much else he has to focus on, anyway, things he has to do, places he has to go. He's not really sure how a person is meant to start a life from scratch in a new and unfamiliar place, but —

Well. At least there wasn't anything for him to leave behind. At least there isn't anyone who'll miss him, or anyone he'll miss whom he wouldn't have been missing already.

S gets distracted, though — from his thoughts, from the things he ought to be doing — by the faint sound of someone playing a guitar nearby. He smiles, just a little, as he heads in the man's direction. It's not his instrument, but it's good to hear music all the same. "Sounds nice."