goneawaymod: (Default)
Piper 90: Mods ([personal profile] goneawaymod) wrote in [community profile] goneawaymemes2020-04-04 10:47 pm
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TDM #1


TEST DRIVE #1


So it's your first day at your new job! Welcome to the Jorgmund Family™! It's time to settle into your new workplace on the Piper 90 rig, the coziest place of employment this side of the Livable Zone. A leader in its industry, Jorgmund is excited to have you join them in enthusiastically envisioneering team-driven paradigms.  

The Piper 90 rig's mission is not only an impressive undertaking in terms of impactful customer-oriented deliverables, it's providing a vital backbone to the Livable Zone by creating a safe region for citizens to live, work, and play. Jorgmund's "outside the box" thinking means they understand the importance of wisely investing in their human capital - you! You'll soon find that you'll take pride in this vital work - and the benefits can't be beat.

Rest assured, Jorgmund's multidisciplinary approach to our world's period of recovery means we know how to keep it real when facing this opportunity for restructuring and growth. Jorgmund: Even if most of the world has gone away, we can make a world of difference!

Synergy!

USEFUL LINKS
It is recommended you check out the following links first for info on the rig, rig conditions, game mechanics, and the intro and slideshow your characters would have to endure that takes place chronologically before the Test Drive Meme: 

Welcome/Arrival  | Rig Weather & Hazards | Rig Setting Page | Game Mechanics


SCENARIO #1 - MOVE-IN DAY!

After the bewildering and unpleasant onboarding process, you've finally been unleashed on the rig. (Well. To places you're allowed to go on the rig.) It's time to get acquainted with your new surroundings, process some of All Of That™, and meet your fellow captives - err, coworkers!

a) A BIT OF A MESS
Perhaps you're hungry? The mess hall food isn't amazing, but it does the job. Characters that have higher metabolic needs than your average human might be left feeling a little hungry, though. The worst part is actually the electronic sliding door: a small sign helpfully informs you that if you want inside, you need to smile for the camera! In addition to being patronizing, this may be a problem for characters who refuse to play ball, or characters with sufficiently nonhuman faces the door sensor can't read them. Remember, if then company doesn't see people like you, it's not discriminatory -- it's just indifferent! And that isn't legally actionable!

b) GOING NOWHERE FAST
The rig's elevators are a little off-kilter today. Overhead announcements mention this, but downplay the severity and are easy to miss -- which means you and your threadmate are stuck in here, somewhere between the fifth and sixth floor. You can complain into the emergency intercomm, but it might take from a few minutes up to an hour before the elevator gets rolling again. How do you pass the time?

c) SHOULD'VE TAKEN THAT LEFT TURN
You're really just trying to get somewhere else on the rig, but you've gotten hopelessly lost. Oh well, at least you're not alone! Did you run into your threadmate here? Did you lead them astray? Are they at fault? Even worse, are you somewhere full of AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY signs, mysterious equipment, and a worrying number of security cameras?

d) NEED A HAND?
You've been assigned a room and some relatively spare possessions to put in it. Unfortunately, it seems that the staff assigned to help move in new hires are all busy at the moment. Unless you want to wait around, you're going to need to lug and assemble your new assigned foldable den furniture yourself. Do you team up with another newbie? Do you try it alone and find yourself needing help? Do you come to the rescue of someone else who did that?

e) SPECIAL DELIVERY
Somebody in processing decided to give you two a quick little errand: you're supposed to take a couple boxes of files up to the executive deck. Unfortunately, a skeptical security staffer is giving you a hard time on your way there, on account of your funny-looking face, insufficient ID or sketchy-looking package. How do you deal with this and accomplish your task?

f) BLOW OFF STEAM
You're likely still a bit sore from Jorgmund fitting you with the nanochain, but you were promised a gym and you are going to use that gym, dammit. It looks like you're not alone in deciding to try out the training area. Do you train together? Spar to let some frustration out? Or are you gonna argue about whose turn it is on which piece of equipment and resent your lost solitude? You'll also find you have to contend with the communal showers when you're done.

g) NO REST FOR THE WEARY
It's the middle of the night on the rig. You're displaced from home, it's not very warm, your door doesn't shut because privacy is a "privilege" nobody has earned yet, and occasional mysterious clanging noises ring through the rig. You can't sleep, not yet, and perhaps you're not the only insomniac wandering the crew deck?


SCENARIO #2 - YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO PANIC

Around dawn on the morning of Day Two, something goes wrong. (Wrong-er?) You awake to the sound of alarms, and a voice over the speakers telling you NOT TO PANIC! A Stuff storm has caused a brief and contained leak onto Piper 90. You may encounter strange sights or sounds. Any anomalies should be reported immediately to rig security. Thank you for your cooperation!

The nature of the problem isn't immediately clear, but over the next handful of hours you find yourself embroiled in a bizarre fracas: a Stuff leak has caused numerous inanimate objects on the rig to come to life. Furniture and appliances small and large are roaming the decks. Some of them are docile, but others are aggressive (or just troublesome due to their size). Some examples:
  • A rogue photocopier spewing paper and ink
  • A mahogany conference table with old clawed feet and a brand new gaping jaw
  • A water cooler that scuttles the halls, squirting people with jets in varying temperatures
  • Small office supplies like pencils and paperclips that swarm in large numbers
  • Dressers and drawers that spit their contents at high velocity
  • A room's worth of folding chairs that hunt as a pack
  • An emergency fire hose that attempts to ensnare crew members in its coils
  • The angriest coffee pot you have ever seen
The objects can be dangerous, but are more strange, troublesome, and determined than deadly. If a foe seems to be incapacitated or "plays dead," even the aggressive conference table or hose will leave them with bruises and move on. Crew members who get in over their heads will be bailed out by security personnel as the incident dies down. Jorgmund staff stresses that the leak has been contained (so no new anomalies will appear), but after the initial surprise it's everyone's job to help hunt down and dispose of the Stuff-altered... stuff. It's gonna be a long morning, and you haven't even been properly briefed yet!

h) GOOD MORNING, PIPER 90
Rise and shine! There are alarms going off, announcements blaring, and people are scrambling around trying to figure out what's going on. You're one of them. Freak out? Spring into action? Team up with someone to shake down a staffer for more details? Run into someone new, perhaps literally?

i) INTERIOR WRECKORATING
You've been ambushed by an animate object that seems to have it in for you, or you've heard the shouts of someone who has and come running to help. What's ruining your morning now, and what are you going to do about it?

j) ON THE RUN
The folding chairs from Presentation Room B operate as a unit, harrying their prey through the halls with much scrambling of legs and flapping of seats. They're after you, at the moment. Can you escape, or perhaps lead them into a trap? Or do you stand your ground?

k) HERE'S THE PLAN
You and your threadmate have found somewhere secure (for now) and are deciding how to deal with a larger enemy. Are you hunting it, or is it hunting you? Are you planning to take it out of commission, or just how to get away from it? Or are you just gonna hide here and lay low until this is over?

l) PROP HUNT
Things are getting back under control, thankfully. Large disturbances have been disposed of, but that leaves the little things like elusive chains of paperclips, a small but vicious stapler, pens and markers that write rude words on walls, and utensils from the mess hall. These anomalies are stealthier, but must still be dealt with, and it's up to you to flush them out.

m) CLEAN UP IN AISLE EVERYTHING
The chaos has passed, and now you've been instructed to clean up a mess. Ink or loose paper from the copier, coffee from the rampaging pot, mopping up after a water cooler, scrubbing marker off a wall, etc. You might get roped into contending with the Yuck Puddle, which is a permanent fixture and not a new development, but someone's always contending with the Yuck Puddle.


OOC DETAILS

Feel free to play around with powers. If your character has powers from canon you want to play around with, go for it. If you'd like to test out possibilities for game powers, also go for it. Feel free to change it up from thread to thread if you need to. This can be handwaved as exposure to Stuff making characters' powers shift a few times before settling.

Potential players may use test drive threads as their log samples. However, at least one post in their thread must fit the requirements for apps, both in length (200 words) and in quality. If you do plan on using a thread as a sample, please make sure the writing throughout your threads is a good example of your writing skills and has some solid examples of the character's voice.

Players can eventually count TDMs towards AC. They can only count towards comment-based AC proofs.

Potential players can opt to keep these threads as game canon when they app in, or start over fresh, based on preference. The Stuff bringing them to the game universe can fog their memories, if players don't want their character to remember TDM threads when introing into the game.

The game is invite-only. Players without invites are allowed to tdm since some of them may know someone in game to ask for one, and since some people enjoy TDMs just for fun in games they don't plan to app into. But an invite is required during the apping process.

The game is at a starting cap at 30 players. Right now the current number of invitees is likely to not exceed the game's 30 slots, but if we go a few over they will still be allowed to app during this first round. Future apps will be rolling apps and will have a wait queue if the cap has been exceeded.

The first game round will be apps only, no reserves. Apps open: Sat 4/11/20. Game start: Fri 4/17/20.


heterochrocatic: (017 » Even if you know that you don't)

Re: g

[personal profile] heterochrocatic 2020-04-05 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"Catra," she says after a moment of consideration. Not like it matters if people know her name, right? Most of them have probably never heard of Etheria or the Horde, so it's not like it matters, right?

"You get the feeling they don't know what they're doing? The ones who brought us here."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: Saint-14 - Destiny/Destiny 2

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-04-05 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hoi, chummer!" Saturday shouts, and launches herself at the mattress throttling the chromed up guy in the middle of the hall. She hits it hard, grabs on, and then a blade appears in her hand, from her hand, with which she slices through the mattress and starts ripping out fluffing. It shudders and goes still.

"Fucking hell of wake up call - " she complains, and pushes her hair out of her eyes. She's scratched up from her own fight and grinning like a lunatic.
credit_not_blame: (Neutral)

b

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-04-05 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
One might think that a tiny teenage girl in an over-large coveralls would slot a tall, muscular, tattoo'd teenager into the "last person I'd wanted to be trapped in an elevator with" category. This one, however, seemed more concerned with the state of her cuticles. She glanced up from her nails and gives the doors a measuring look.

"Probably," she said. "Not sure it'd be worth it, though. It isn't like we have anywhere special to be."

She turned that assessing look on the boy in the elevator with her. His eyes were sharp and his body language told you not to fuck with him, but hers said that she was confident that she was the biggest, baddest thing in the room. Or elevator, as the case might be.

"I'm Stacia," she said. "Can I ask about your tattoo? I've been thinking about getting one."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: g

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-04-05 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Saturday gives Catra a long look out of the corner of her eye, weighing options; she doesn't know this girl, and moles come standard in a corp. She settles for a brief smile.

"Doesn't much matter, does it? We're here, and we're employed. Suppose it could be worse."
heterochrocatic: (024 » To piss off the dumb few that forg)

Re: g

[personal profile] heterochrocatic 2020-04-05 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"Employed. That's a word for it." Catra looks disgusted for a brief moment.

"I mean, it's not that much better than where I was before, so... I dunno it's something. Doesn't mean I like it." She shrugs, her tail flicking behind her as she looks thoughtful.

"...Anyone you know showed up?"

wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-04-05 09:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Watch it, chromedome!" Saturday yelps, and dives over a rampaging deskchair to come up swinging at the mess this samurai'd gotten themselves into. She severs the firehose with a blade that emerges from her metal right arm, and starts batting away drink cans.

"Deal with the table, I'll keep 'em off your back!" she cries, advancing on the soda machine as hands moving almost faster than the eye can see send the cans flying off to the sides.
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: g

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-04-05 09:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"...no." The pause before the response hurts, a little. "Just me so far."
purple_paradox: (Dramatic Side-Glance)

B.

[personal profile] purple_paradox 2020-04-05 09:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Saint wasn't small by any stretch of the meaning either, but he seemed similarly hesitant to start tearing at the machinery. Technology was more Osiris' thing, not his.

"Well," he replied, somewhat awkwardly. "It could be worse. There could have been bad elevator music to deal with, too."

As if on cue, there was a sound of some device in the wall short circuiting and suddenly, from speakers hidden somewhere in the walls, music started playing.

Saint sighed dejectedly. This place truly was hell.
likeits1999: (I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed)

[personal profile] likeits1999 2020-04-05 09:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Kevin snorts, mouth shut. He's assessing if he's cut himself (he hasn't, good). Hurts, but whatever. Go home, fangs, nobody wants you here. And there's this loud announcement going on, and a discontented feeling grumbling somewhere under his breastbone that is still kind of questioning if smashing something might make any of this feel better. It won't. Stop that. He leans with one hand on the bedframe, peering doorward. ]

I think we both got enough beefing it in for one day. [ Kevin needs to buffer for a second and try and process what a Stuff leak is, but he can still pivot slang from dude body to face concrete with easy fluency. A decision clicks into place. ]

So, we figuring out what the hell is going on?

[ He looks back over. His eyebrows rise a little at the sunglasses, but Kevin lets them go unremarked. Letting things go unremarked is a healthy vampire habit. ]
greatlyexaggerated: (might I politely yet backhandedly)

[personal profile] greatlyexaggerated 2020-04-05 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
It's just somebody passing by. Hardly anything unusual by all accounts, but something about the way she walks sets Cain's palms itching. Perhaps it's the way her stroll is just a bit deliberately too casual, and he recognizes it to be entirely too accurately mirroring the way he walks back to his quarters with a pounding hangover at an obscene time in the morning, and happens across a trooper who similarly shouldn't quite be out.

He pauses.

"Excuse me," he calls out. Not too loud, but firm. He's not sure what he's actually calling her attention for just yet, but he'll figure it out in a second.
purple_paradox: (Steel Calls For Steel)

Re: Saint-14 - Destiny/Destiny 2

[personal profile] purple_paradox 2020-04-05 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, that was one way to deal with it. Saint spits out a bit of mattress stuffing that got caught in his mouth in all of the commotion.

"What is going on?" he managed to cough out with the last of the fluff. "Are there any more of those...things?"

He'd bet his last Glimmer on it. When it rained around here -- literally and metaphorically -- it usually poured.
heterochrocatic: (027 » And I hope we hang on past the las)

Re: g

[personal profile] heterochrocatic 2020-04-05 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"That's rough," Catra says, sounding (surprisingly) at least a little genuinely sympathetic.

"I'm just tired of people telling me what to do," she says after another moment of silence. "I don't want to do the dirty work for these guys."
purple_paradox: (Fresh Faced)

A.

[personal profile] purple_paradox 2020-04-05 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)
"Because it is probably broken," Saint-14 replied in a heavy Russian accent. "Like everything else here."

He sighed, sounding almost defeated. The Last City wasn't exactly the pinnacle of working technology, even after it had improved so much since he had been trapped in the Infinite Forest, but the state of this place made the City seem like Golden Age tech.

"I should really just start taking the stairs."
takenalive: (temp3)

[personal profile] takenalive 2020-04-05 09:27 pm (UTC)(link)
"As opposed to coffee that takes time," he says dryly. Alloran's picked up a lot about humans and human culture over the past three years or so, but it's far from a complete picture.

With his two, linked eyes he looks from the cup to Saturday and back, a suggestion of a frown on his borrowed face. Sharing things humans eat seems different from grazing from the same swath of grass. Esplin wouldn't accept, either way, and that's why he takes his hands away from the cup. "I suppose you can."

Unfortunately, as an Andalite Alloran has absolutely no reference for what is and isn't good flavor. More is better and that's about all there is to it, and this coffee, whatever else is going on, has more.
cachedout: (3)

i

[personal profile] cachedout 2020-04-05 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Cayde-6 is having a time. This is a familiarish kind of peril, it might almost be fun if he weren't unarmed and operating wounded. But, interdimensionally displaced beggars really can't be choosers. He's got three folding chairs on his tail and a damaged leg that's slowing him down, but the Light he's been trying to pull together since they started chasing him is starting to feel like it should.

He's been dealt a bad hand, but he's still got an ace in one sleeve.

When he gets driven around a corner toward a bigger cluster of chairs, Cayde hops aside to let their scrambling metal legs and momentum carry them past him. They slide, some crashing into the other chairs that are gathered in the middle of the hall underneath some guy who's - on the ceiling? That thought's gonna have to hold the phone a second.

Cayde condenses the Light into a familiar shape: a golden pistol of sunlight and flame, and fires several rapid, well-placed shots into the chair pack. The targets come undone in golden sparks, and an explosive chain reaction that clears the hall.

The gunslinger gives the weapon a little spin around his finger, more out of habit than anything, as it dissipates — wow that should not feel as draining as it does — and peers up at stickyboots overhead.

"There's more of them where those came from, must've been a whole auditorium or something," he says, robotic eyes already scanning back up the hall in case more come scrambling down. "Been dodging around 'em all day."

That's an exaggeration. Now that the coast seems clear for a second, his posture shifts back to favoring one of his knees. The robot looks like five miles of bad road, honestly, even his face is scraped and partially bent, and there are some nasty gouges along the side of his head.
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-04-05 09:40 pm (UTC)(link)
godfuckingdammitshitfuckass - Saturday turns and puts on her most naturally attentive smile.

"Yeah?" she says. "Can I help you?"
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: Saint-14 - Destiny/Destiny 2

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-04-05 09:43 pm (UTC)(link)
"I have no fucking idea. Maybe that Stuff stuff they were telling us about? Reality warping shit - this is pretty warped."

A firehose hisses out from its hidden slot, unraveling, and she lashes out. It is suddenly two halves of a firehose, split lengthwise and lying limp on the floor.

"We gotta check the rooms, see if people are okay - " That's when the medical cart comes bellowing down the hall, spraying syringes. Saturday dives out of the way.
cachedout: (1)

a

[personal profile] cachedout 2020-04-05 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh for the love of- is that Saint? On the one hand, whatever Cayde's got instead of a heart leaps at the sight of another Guardian. On the other, this Guardian at least doubles the length of his list of questions.

Saint-14 is dead. And Cayde, well. Cayde can't pretend he wasn't far off from that particular condition himself.

He stuffs the troubling implications in a mental drawer for later, preferably when he's found something he can write in.

"Having problems?" he asks as he slides up next to Saint, as if being interdimensionally out-of-pocket with dead legends is just something he does every day.

Cayde, for his part, has clearly been beat to hell and recently. His Ghost is also not in evidence, which he supposes is going to draw comment eventually. Still, making contact with an ally is worth any number of stupid and uncomfortable details to hash out.
grimbiker: (shadows)

[personal profile] grimbiker 2020-04-05 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
At this point, a normal dog would have wagged its tail or withdrawn, teeth bared. Padfoot, however, was not a dog. He thought that Remus would have recognized him anywhere, in this form or out, light or dark. For a moment, Sirius thought he did. Then he recognized the tone was how you'd greet any stray upon first encounter.

He had no idea what to do. Everything was simpler as a dog but that didn't mean they weren't complicated to begin with. The feelings that rose in him now were all over the place. Jumbled and clashing, full of apologies ("It's my fault") and anger ("Why didn't you stop them? Did you try?") and so much love and even more hurt. The memories were harder to brush away.

He gathered himself, then changed back. He immediately held up his hands to show he was unarmed.

It had been a year since he'd last seen Remus. He'd been imprisoned that long. And, if it weren't for the fact that the Dementors had enjoyed making him relive his worst memories day and night, he might have come up with a better greeting.

"Remus--" He almost choked on the name. It had been so long. It wasn't fair. "I can explain."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: g

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-04-05 09:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Saturday is a little taken aback by this outpouring, but takes a contemplative breath, another drag, and answers:

"Well. My father says about things like this - it can't be helped. You can't control your circumstances, just how you respond to them."

It's cold, hollow advice, and she's aware of that as she says it. But right now, it's all she has.

"Where are you from, kid?"
purple_paradox: (Steel Calls For Steel)

2-K

[personal profile] purple_paradox 2020-04-05 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
It was strange to see someone as young as Adora taking charge like a seasoned warrior, but Saint felt it was somewhat refreshing to see. There were young Guardians, sure, but he hadn't heard of any as young as her. If the situation weren't as bizarre as it was, he probably would have commended her on it, as he was reminded a bit of himself when he had been first given the position of Vanguard Commander. Perhaps there would be time for that later.

"I killed this chair," he replied, realizing the ridiculousness of the sentence after he said it. Was killed even the right word? He punched it really hard, and it stopped moving, so he guessed that was the best description for it.

He held up a metal folding chair, which now sported a rather serious dent in the seat where Saint had landed the "killing" blow.

"Perhaps we could use it as a weapon, or toss it as a distraction."

He left it up to her discretion. She stepped up as leader for the moment, and multiple people trying to jump at the position would only complicate things. Besides, he was curious to see how she would do.
heterochrocatic: (014 » You said she's scared of me?)

Re: g

[personal profile] heterochrocatic 2020-04-05 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Catra bristles a little--literally. She doesn't like being called 'kid,' obviously and her scowl only reinforces it.

"Etheria. Why?"
greatlyexaggerated: (really?)

[personal profile] greatlyexaggerated 2020-04-05 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Cain fires back with a reflexive smile of his own, humble and self-conscious.

"Ah, you see," he starts, then stops for the smallest fraction of a second. "I thought I knew where I was going, but I seem to be a little lost. It's just these blasted corridors start to look identical after a while."

There's just a slight sheepish incline to his shoulders as he makes eye contact with her. It's a bit of a neck strain, considering how tall he is. "I was wondering where you were headed?"
garmr: (pic#13331535)

guts | berserk

[personal profile] garmr 2020-04-05 09:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Guts had long assumed he was taken prisoner the moment he woke up. Really, the only thing that had kept him from instantly going apeshit on the welcoming committee was the sheer confusion. Pluck a man out of his medieval hellhole and all the technology is going to look just as magical as the fairy wonderland he just came from. The rig could only be interpreted as an incredibly bizarre maze of metal rooms from the inside. And so, Plan A by Guts will be to acclimate to whatever the hell is going on, in the form of:

a) Mess Hall

[This Mess Hall steak was edible, and even seasoned. The fact of the matter is that Guts isn't eating the rats of a stone dungeon cell for sustenance, so it's really an improvement from being a prisoner back home. He eats his food silently and without complaint.

Of course, Guts also has the table etiquette of a man raised in sweaty mercenary camps, so he'll be passing on the fork. That's some fancy nobleman garbage. Nope. He'll be eating his food with KNIFE and TEETH only, since he didn't have his dagger to feed himself with. Using both utensils requires having two hands anyway, and Guts got one of his confiscated. Apparently, having a solid iron prosthetic to smash someone's face with is against company policy or whatever the hell they said. The arm's cannon wasn't even loaded when he'd been brought here in the first place??
]

g) No Rest

[ One quirk he failed to mention to the staff is the insomnia that came when he didn't have any kind of weapon on him. He doesn't trust the people here any farther than he could throw them - actually, probably a bit less than that - and figures he could keep the problem to himself.

Unfortunately, that means his roommate is going to be treated to Guts sitting on the floor late in the night. Despite being a brick shithouse of a man, he manages to curl up and make himself compact in his sheet, attempting to pass his first night by creepily staring across the room. The light of the communicator is the closest thing he had to a flickering campfire, illuminating a face that is clearly too strung out to try and rest. Eventually, the exhaustion would claim him at some point in the week and he'd get his sleep. That's the way this always works.
]

j) Beating up Chairs

[Being attacked by sentient furniture is the most familiar situation that's hit him this entire week. Guts may have no clue what the fuck a printer or coffee machine is, but he knows what to do with inanimate objects that get a little too rowdy: beat the shit out of it until it stops moving.

Anyway, he'll be making himself a makeshift weapon by slamming one unfortunate chair that wandered too close into a prowling table. He uses it to snap off one of the table's wooden legs, eliminating two problems in one go. In one clean, swift motion, the table leg gets caught in his remaining right hand. Voila, a makeshift sword! A bit on the short side, but it will do.

Of course, he is still circled by the rest of the pack, but that is hardly a reason to panic.
]

Alright, then. Which one of you is next?
thewholeofthemoon: (Solemnly swear)

[personal profile] thewholeofthemoon 2020-04-05 09:55 pm (UTC)(link)
A year could be a long, long time, measured out by drips and drabs and memories. Measured one moon to the next. It wasn't that Remus hadn't recognized the type of dog, that the name hadn't come to mind and nearly to his lips.

The dog was shaggier than he remembered Sirius ever being, which lent it a slightly different shape. It meant that, for a moment, he'd been certain he was safe.

Then the dog started to change shape and Remus reached for...his missing wand. Which the folks who ran this rig had. And mentally he cursed himself for only ever learning small things to do without the wand. Healing, mending, unlocking doors. Utilitarian spells.

Once the form settled, once he heard that once beloved voice...It was too close to the full moon for Remus to do anything but bare his teeth. It was no grin but a warning. "What makes you think I want your explanation, Black?"