Piper 90: Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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goneawaymemes2020-09-09 08:52 pm
goneawaymod) wrote in goneawaymemes2020-09-09 08:52 pm
Entry tags:
TDM #2
![](https://i.imgur.com/iLcTJtA.png")
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:
SCENARIO #1 - MOVE-IN?! MOVE OUT!
Well, hell, that was fast. Basically as soon as orientation's over, everyone gets shuffled into armored vehicles and a few boxes of gear are tossed in after them. Motion detectors, flimsy medical face masks, and... guns. Guns with flamethrowers. Even for the old hands at this, that's a new attachment, but the boxes all of the gear is in has electronic locks that refuse to open.
Before anyone gets any ideas, the doors are closing. The last view they get inside the Rig is a pair of medical workers dragging someone out of the 'interview' room, a tall muscular man in mismatched combat fatigues. Even without the twitching, the way he hangs limply in their arms leaves little doubt that whoever he was, he won't be joining them for cake. One of them carries his removed helmet, the other carries a removed body armor. On the chestplate a skull and crossbones can be seen, on the backplate are the words "contents under pressure."
When one of them sees them staring, she says, "Epilepsy, it seems, no doubt aggravated by Stuff exposure. We'll be taking good care of him."
Right, because the military lets epileptics in all the time, don't they.
They will never see him again. If asked about him later, they'll say he was transported to the Livable Zone, for the very best care in a proper hospital. Of course they wouldn't hire someome with health issues for a potentially stressful job like theirs, they aren't monsters.
The truth is he will get more coherent later and start complaining of a stomach ache, scans will verify something alarming, and he will be quietly killed with sedatives and quickly incinerated.
Before it's too late.
a) TAKEN FOR A RIDE
They're left to get to know each other, with the driver (in a separate compartment) informing them that they'll be at their destination in about four hours.
Meanwhile, for their viewing pleasure, there's a marathon of The Nutshack. Working media in the Gone-Away World is sometimes...lacking.
b) A LATE EASTER
...Blissfully, it's interrupted some three hours later. The boxes all click, allowing the unfortunates to grab the gear, and the Nutshack ends abruptly as the face of a harried middle manager takes up the screen, people walking back and forth behind her with the faked urgency of people who know the boss is watching. "All right, New Hires. I know some of you have just been hired, but we here in Jorgmund like our people to be able to hit the ground running." She smiles blandly, in that corporate way where no muscle above her nose so much as twitches. "This mission should be a milk run for you, though, a good way to stretch your legs and show what you're made of. It's just a bit of a delivery job, that's all. You'll be making your way to the old Pilton town, recently the site of an Incursion. To go with the milk, you're grabbing us some eggs."
Suddenly, her image contracts to the lower left corner of the screen. The main screen is filled with a single image, rotating slowly. "Our resident biology experts think that the life forms that hatch from these will be very useful in advancing various areas of science, plus they might be able to resist Stuff storms. We want an unhatched egg, drone footage shows that there's a good number of them are already empty."
Another image, this time of some kind of glowing box. "The engineers say that this will keep the eggs, and their cargo, in a kind of stasis. Just get one in there and it's mission accomplished. Easy, right? Makes me wonder why we even hauled you guys out of orientation for it." She shrugs, tossing a folder aside and glancing at a paper someone's just passed her. "Oh, right. Pilton's a write-off. They rejected our offers of help with this whole mess when it started up, so they're probably all infected with Stuff or some shit anyway, so safeties off and fire is free. Don't kill each other but anyone else is fair game. You're probably doing them a favor somehow anyway, we don't need mutants mucking up the place."
She sets everything down and leans in, filling the screen again. "Yeah, and just so you newbies know the drill, don't run. You remember what it felt like during orientation." They've already felt the first bite of the nanochains. "We got trackers in you and we don't appreciate it when our boys go AWOL after we go through all of the trouble of saving their lives from the Wilds." The transmission ends and all that's left is a map of Pilton displaying, with the cartoon's audio still playing in the background.
The vehicles all clank to a stop and open the doors. Pilton looks to be a mid-sized town, might've been home to a few tens of thousands of people once. Curiously, a tall, thick wall surrounds much of it, but something's knocked holes in it. It's in front of one of these gaps that the trucks have stopped. Inside, a thick mist obscures all but the tallest buildings, half-ruined by some disaster. Lots of shorter, squatter buildings just barely poke over the top. But some of them seem to have some sort of newer additions, a black, shiny, organic support for a few buildings. Hard to see details, though, because of heavy mist obscuring vision. The map suggests that there's a subway system... or possibly just an oversized sewer. It's hard to tell, but the way the drivers honk, so they can leave, they're not giving any more time to decide.
Motion detectors on? Locked and loaded? It's time to go. Just ignore the feeling that you're being watched.
c) THIS WAY FOR SENSITIVITY TRAINING
Well, it turns out that those eggs? They hatch sometimes! If you're lucky, this side will be all that you see. If not, well...
The radios crackle and the manager's voice comes back on, for everyone. "We're seeing some funky bio readings. Yeah, the Science department thought that one or two of you might get jumped. It's fine, just don't lose whoever that is. Pop your stasis box around them, it'll expand, and drag them back to the trucks. You can try pulling them off, I guess, but they want to see what happens when someone gets up close and personal."
There's a pause.
"Oh, uh. Don't try to pull them off. Got a report from another crew that it'll tear and dribble acid over everything. Well, we at Jorgmund appreciate the lengths you all are willing to go for the company and it'll reflect in your quarterly performance reviews." That's small comfort for anyone who's at risk of being down a man.
Then again, at the noise, there are moans from the walls and ceilings. There's a few people stuck in there, some with those creepy things wrapped tight around their necks and faces... some with with them lying dead at their feet. Some of them aren't making so much noise on account of the massive, gaping hole in their chests.
Something's hissing and writhing around your ankles, by the way.
About to spring.
d) YOU DONE KNOCKED OVER THE ANT HILL
Did you get lost? Not to worry, if those motion detector pings are anything to judge by, you're about to have lots of company! They're big! They're fast! They're black, shiny, and can climb on the walls!
Oh, and these guys bleed acid too.
The manager's voice on the radio blares out loudly. Too loudly. "By the way, it sounds like you guys have company! Did we mention that Jorgmund has excellent medical benefits and a highly trained staff with the latest equipment? Don't be afraid to get into a bit of a scrap! And remember, teamwork makes the dream work! So fire up those flamethrowers and show them how Jorgmund takes care of the competition!"
As bad as everything is, at least you can hide from them for a bit. And, hey, that civilian stickied to the wall who got all chummy with the alien babies? The one you might not have managed to seal into the box correctly? They're waking up now! An extra hand to fight these guys off will be handy! Especially since the monsters seem to be trying to guide you away from the exits, pushing you further into the hive.
e) MEET THE NEW BOSS, SAME AS THE OLD BOSS
So, a heartless, soulless, people-eating monster who doesn't care who suffers as long as the numbers go up? Boy, that sure sounds familiar.
Whether it was a tactical withdrawal, a blind rush, went in to rescue a pal, or you were dragged into a lower chamber after being snatched up by a batch of drones, you're now in a vast chamber filled with eggs. And there's the Queen hissing her displeasure at your company. And you thought the regular guys were huge.
She's lounging on the wall, attached to a pulsating ovipositor that stretches the length of this massive room, surrounded by smaller drones caring for her and the eggs surrounding her. But, luckily, it looks like before the bugs... adapted this whole mess to suit themselves, it was a construction site, and the hive resin hasn't quite covered some of the equipment.
Or some of the barrels with explosive warnings written on them.
Whatever you're going to do, think fast. This lady's no pushover, and she's the kind of boss who likes to get her hands dirty to show the troops that she still has what it takes.
Due to Stuff shenanigans reality will glitch, making this fight one that must be accomplished possibly quite a few times before reality allows her to be dead.
Because she doesn't believe she would die that easily.
Every time she dies, she'll come just a little closer to being gone for good.
f) HOMECOMING KING
Maybe you were there for all that. Maybe you missed it. Maybe you actually did your job. Somebody must have, because you're out there in the open air. The wind is sweeping through the ruins of Pilton, a refreshing rain washing away all of the evil that's been committed there. Even the manager's voice, congratulating everyone on a successful mission complete, ordering everyone back to the armored vehicles, seems upbeat and chipper.
Gather your wounded. Pick up your trophies. Usher civilians you may have saved against orders into the transports. It's time to go home. Your team's about halfway there when thunder booms menacingly in the background. Seems to be a messy storm coming, so it'll be a relief to be inside.
...Funny, that thunder just now. Thunder's supposed to come after lightning not-ah. There it is. Maybe it was an echo of a flash you didn't notice.
But don't echoes get quieter?
That's when a big fella comes around the corner. It turns its head, looking dead at your group, and the hiss it makes is a nightmarish mingling of a bull crocodile and one of the drones from inside. And then it roars, charging towards your group, massive tail smashing part of a building to rubble as it goes.
Bullets aren't going to be enough for this tyrant.
Even worse: the ground suddenly shudders even more, rumbling and shaking in a great cacophonous outpouring of sound...
And you see that the smaller version of the creatures aren't the only ones that travel in packs.
g) ON THE ROAD AGAIN
That was awful. But it's over now. The ride home is quiet, with the dulcet tones of Bob Ross filling the air on the way back. Rest, relax, drink some water, have some rations, and check up on your friends. Because after an experience like that, what else can they be?
If any New Hires have saved a civilian against orders, hopefully you're not in one of the unlucky trucks where they're starting to groan and clutch at their chest, face contorting in agony. Hopefully that's not a fellow passenger for you, and you can just ride home.
They're left to get to know each other, with the driver (in a separate compartment) informing them that they'll be at their destination in about four hours.
Meanwhile, for their viewing pleasure, there's a marathon of The Nutshack. Working media in the Gone-Away World is sometimes...lacking.
b) A LATE EASTER
...Blissfully, it's interrupted some three hours later. The boxes all click, allowing the unfortunates to grab the gear, and the Nutshack ends abruptly as the face of a harried middle manager takes up the screen, people walking back and forth behind her with the faked urgency of people who know the boss is watching. "All right, New Hires. I know some of you have just been hired, but we here in Jorgmund like our people to be able to hit the ground running." She smiles blandly, in that corporate way where no muscle above her nose so much as twitches. "This mission should be a milk run for you, though, a good way to stretch your legs and show what you're made of. It's just a bit of a delivery job, that's all. You'll be making your way to the old Pilton town, recently the site of an Incursion. To go with the milk, you're grabbing us some eggs."
Suddenly, her image contracts to the lower left corner of the screen. The main screen is filled with a single image, rotating slowly. "Our resident biology experts think that the life forms that hatch from these will be very useful in advancing various areas of science, plus they might be able to resist Stuff storms. We want an unhatched egg, drone footage shows that there's a good number of them are already empty."
Another image, this time of some kind of glowing box. "The engineers say that this will keep the eggs, and their cargo, in a kind of stasis. Just get one in there and it's mission accomplished. Easy, right? Makes me wonder why we even hauled you guys out of orientation for it." She shrugs, tossing a folder aside and glancing at a paper someone's just passed her. "Oh, right. Pilton's a write-off. They rejected our offers of help with this whole mess when it started up, so they're probably all infected with Stuff or some shit anyway, so safeties off and fire is free. Don't kill each other but anyone else is fair game. You're probably doing them a favor somehow anyway, we don't need mutants mucking up the place."
She sets everything down and leans in, filling the screen again. "Yeah, and just so you newbies know the drill, don't run. You remember what it felt like during orientation." They've already felt the first bite of the nanochains. "We got trackers in you and we don't appreciate it when our boys go AWOL after we go through all of the trouble of saving their lives from the Wilds." The transmission ends and all that's left is a map of Pilton displaying, with the cartoon's audio still playing in the background.
The vehicles all clank to a stop and open the doors. Pilton looks to be a mid-sized town, might've been home to a few tens of thousands of people once. Curiously, a tall, thick wall surrounds much of it, but something's knocked holes in it. It's in front of one of these gaps that the trucks have stopped. Inside, a thick mist obscures all but the tallest buildings, half-ruined by some disaster. Lots of shorter, squatter buildings just barely poke over the top. But some of them seem to have some sort of newer additions, a black, shiny, organic support for a few buildings. Hard to see details, though, because of heavy mist obscuring vision. The map suggests that there's a subway system... or possibly just an oversized sewer. It's hard to tell, but the way the drivers honk, so they can leave, they're not giving any more time to decide.
Motion detectors on? Locked and loaded? It's time to go. Just ignore the feeling that you're being watched.
c) THIS WAY FOR SENSITIVITY TRAINING
Well, it turns out that those eggs? They hatch sometimes! If you're lucky, this side will be all that you see. If not, well...
The radios crackle and the manager's voice comes back on, for everyone. "We're seeing some funky bio readings. Yeah, the Science department thought that one or two of you might get jumped. It's fine, just don't lose whoever that is. Pop your stasis box around them, it'll expand, and drag them back to the trucks. You can try pulling them off, I guess, but they want to see what happens when someone gets up close and personal."
There's a pause.
"Oh, uh. Don't try to pull them off. Got a report from another crew that it'll tear and dribble acid over everything. Well, we at Jorgmund appreciate the lengths you all are willing to go for the company and it'll reflect in your quarterly performance reviews." That's small comfort for anyone who's at risk of being down a man.
Then again, at the noise, there are moans from the walls and ceilings. There's a few people stuck in there, some with those creepy things wrapped tight around their necks and faces... some with with them lying dead at their feet. Some of them aren't making so much noise on account of the massive, gaping hole in their chests.
Something's hissing and writhing around your ankles, by the way.
About to spring.
d) YOU DONE KNOCKED OVER THE ANT HILL
Did you get lost? Not to worry, if those motion detector pings are anything to judge by, you're about to have lots of company! They're big! They're fast! They're black, shiny, and can climb on the walls!
Oh, and these guys bleed acid too.
The manager's voice on the radio blares out loudly. Too loudly. "By the way, it sounds like you guys have company! Did we mention that Jorgmund has excellent medical benefits and a highly trained staff with the latest equipment? Don't be afraid to get into a bit of a scrap! And remember, teamwork makes the dream work! So fire up those flamethrowers and show them how Jorgmund takes care of the competition!"
As bad as everything is, at least you can hide from them for a bit. And, hey, that civilian stickied to the wall who got all chummy with the alien babies? The one you might not have managed to seal into the box correctly? They're waking up now! An extra hand to fight these guys off will be handy! Especially since the monsters seem to be trying to guide you away from the exits, pushing you further into the hive.
e) MEET THE NEW BOSS, SAME AS THE OLD BOSS
So, a heartless, soulless, people-eating monster who doesn't care who suffers as long as the numbers go up? Boy, that sure sounds familiar.
Whether it was a tactical withdrawal, a blind rush, went in to rescue a pal, or you were dragged into a lower chamber after being snatched up by a batch of drones, you're now in a vast chamber filled with eggs. And there's the Queen hissing her displeasure at your company. And you thought the regular guys were huge.
She's lounging on the wall, attached to a pulsating ovipositor that stretches the length of this massive room, surrounded by smaller drones caring for her and the eggs surrounding her. But, luckily, it looks like before the bugs... adapted this whole mess to suit themselves, it was a construction site, and the hive resin hasn't quite covered some of the equipment.
Or some of the barrels with explosive warnings written on them.
Whatever you're going to do, think fast. This lady's no pushover, and she's the kind of boss who likes to get her hands dirty to show the troops that she still has what it takes.
Due to Stuff shenanigans reality will glitch, making this fight one that must be accomplished possibly quite a few times before reality allows her to be dead.
Because she doesn't believe she would die that easily.
Every time she dies, she'll come just a little closer to being gone for good.
f) HOMECOMING KING
Maybe you were there for all that. Maybe you missed it. Maybe you actually did your job. Somebody must have, because you're out there in the open air. The wind is sweeping through the ruins of Pilton, a refreshing rain washing away all of the evil that's been committed there. Even the manager's voice, congratulating everyone on a successful mission complete, ordering everyone back to the armored vehicles, seems upbeat and chipper.
Gather your wounded. Pick up your trophies. Usher civilians you may have saved against orders into the transports. It's time to go home. Your team's about halfway there when thunder booms menacingly in the background. Seems to be a messy storm coming, so it'll be a relief to be inside.
...Funny, that thunder just now. Thunder's supposed to come after lightning not-ah. There it is. Maybe it was an echo of a flash you didn't notice.
But don't echoes get quieter?
That's when a big fella comes around the corner. It turns its head, looking dead at your group, and the hiss it makes is a nightmarish mingling of a bull crocodile and one of the drones from inside. And then it roars, charging towards your group, massive tail smashing part of a building to rubble as it goes.
Bullets aren't going to be enough for this tyrant.
Even worse: the ground suddenly shudders even more, rumbling and shaking in a great cacophonous outpouring of sound...
And you see that the smaller version of the creatures aren't the only ones that travel in packs.
g) ON THE ROAD AGAIN
That was awful. But it's over now. The ride home is quiet, with the dulcet tones of Bob Ross filling the air on the way back. Rest, relax, drink some water, have some rations, and check up on your friends. Because after an experience like that, what else can they be?
If any New Hires have saved a civilian against orders, hopefully you're not in one of the unlucky trucks where they're starting to groan and clutch at their chest, face contorting in agony. Hopefully that's not a fellow passenger for you, and you can just ride home.
➤ 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. Apps are rolling apps that have a wait queue if the cap has been exceeded. Currently the cap is 23 of 30 players.
no subject
Rune. I know what a Were is. Why would I shoot you?
no subject
Most people here only have stories about us. Or have a variation on the theme. The first time I shifted to break up a fight, a few people just about crapped their pants. But I'm guessing shapeshifters are pretty common where you're from?
no subject
So he just huffs a breath of laughter and he drops his hand back into his lap.]
I have a kid about your age who's a shapeshifter, if you're gonna use such a general term.
[He really doesn't look old enough to have a kid that old, honestly. Maybe mid-twenties.]
no subject
You look pretty young to have a kid in the double-digits, much less almost eighteen. Unless you're also some kind of shapeshifter or otherwise some flavor of not-a-regular-human.
no subject
She's right about him being objectively pretty young, though.]
It's more of an "adopted little brother" situation.
[He's not ready to call himself a dad, even if he is absolutely functioning as one now.]
no subject
[Stacia leans back in her seat.]
Your world is definitely more used to outright, bald-faced magic than mine is. You wanna fill me in on what you expect Weres can do so that I can let you know if I'm going to disappoint?
no subject
[She reminds him more of Anna than his older kids – bold and intent on seeming capable and "mature". There's the tiniest little quirk at the corner of his lips, but he shakes his head.]
I'm hardly an expert. I don't have that many dealings with Weres. Can I just assume the basics? Animal form, claws, etcetera?
no subject
[Stacia wrinkles her nose.]
Don't get me wrong, I'm not here to catch bullets for everyone else, but I can get bloodied up if need be. I'd prefer not to; give me a gun and a snipers' nest any day of the week, but...
[She gestures around them.]
So far, I'm the only person who can walk off broken bones.
no subject
Realistically, he shouldn't be bothered. All scions are taught to defend themselves early on, and he was probably around her age when he had to start getting involved in risky shit. Still, just because he did it doesn't mean he wishes it on anyone else. Especially not right now, when the unknown lying ahead is leaving such a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
His jaw tightens a little and his eyes drop back to the bin of supplies.]
I'd prefer you not do that either.
no subject
[Stacia cocks her head and looks him over thoughtfully.]
I'm almost getting used to seeing that "but she's a baby" expression on people's faces when I say things like that.
no subject
[He is more than twice your age, kid.]
But hey, it's good to be self-aware.
no subject
I know I'm baby. But back home, I'm also considered enough of an adult that no one would blink at the prospect of me wading into a fight.
[Age is a bit less of a hard-and-fast rule when some people are born as humans and some are born as wolves, and others still are born as a mix between the two. As far as Garou are concerned, Stacia has demonstrated sufficient competency to be considered not just an adult, but a respectable adult. Plus, fighting a losing war against the corrupted forces of entropy and destruction doesn't tend to result in long-lived combatants.]
no subject
It's the same where I come from. If you aren't strong enough to protect yourself, you don't deserve to survive. Even the kids. That still doesn't make it right.
[It stresses him out to think of any of his kids in a dangerous situation. They've all already been through some awful shit – he's already had to watch Max nearly die once, already was nearly too late to save Layne. He's only letting them get properly trained because the world won't be that kind no matter how much he wants it, and the older ones have been insistent on helping whether they're allowed to or not. That still doesn't mean he's thrilled about it.]
no subject
[She draws the last word out for emphasis.]
The first bit I mean, not the last bit. Though most people aren't willing to come out and say it's not right either. How'd you shake the raised-in-it blindness? I'm looking for tips to use back home.
no subject
That's...one hell of a question, all things considered. And not one he'd ever get back home, because everyone already knew. Literally everyone. The news talked about the fall of the Sun Court for months, and the gossip mill in New Atlantis is not kind to victims.
But he's not thinking about it. Nope. That's really not something he needs on his mind when he's about to be thrown into the monster-filled unknown. His jaw tenses for a moment, and his tone is a bit curt despite his best efforts to make himself relax.]
...I had a rough time when I was a kid.
[Understatement of the century.]
no subject
So yeah, here's me putting that on the Do Not Ask List. How about a shiny new topic? I've got a million of 'em. Here, pick one:
[She counts out three on her fingers.]
What's the first thing you're gonna do when you get home? Tell me a cute story about one or more of your loved ones. Or let's just watch whatever the hell they're showing us on those TV's and engage in meaningless small talk.
no subject
He casts a sideways glance at the TV screen and makes a face. Yeah, that's not something he wants to grant even a speck of his attention. Which means one of the former questions, which is fine, even if either one kinds of rubs salt in that "not home right now" wound a bit.
So... Cute. What do teenage girls consider cute? He's quiet a few moments longer, but it's a less tense sort of quiet.]
My youngest cousin is around five. He has picked up on the fact that books are part of storytime, but not the fact that the contents of said story and the specific book are directly related. Thus, he keeps bringing me the same book but expecting new stories.
no subject
Rune's decision on what teenage girls consider 'cute' seems right on the money though, judging by the way she lights up and clasps her hands together.]
Aww, that's adorable! Maybe he's looking for the sequel?
no subject
[Except for the part where it gave him nightmares about krakens. Rune is not going to share that part because it outs him as an adult who is largely fumbling his way through childcare.]
Your turn.
no subject
[This is a turn-based thing now?]
My older siblings don't have kids yet, and I've never met my extended family on either side, so I don't have access to cute five-year-olds.
[Technically true. She does have a lot of cute stories about wolf-cubs and the misadventures of adolescent frogs, but that's more backstory than she wants to get into, plus involves admitting that there are other shifters in her world and that shifters can be born to animal parents.]
My boyfriend makes sure to store leftovers in easily-grabbed portions for me, and he doesn't complain when I put my cold feet on him?
no subject
But her attempt clearly goes over pretty well. It drags a hint of a smile out of him as he leans back into his seat.]
That's sufficiently cute. He sounds like a good boyfriend.
no subject
No complaints on the 'boyfriend' part of things, but he sometimes likes to go out and hunt monsters by himself, with knives, like an idiot. He can't walk off near-disembowelment. Drives me crazy.
no subject
Oh, you have no idea how much I get that.
no subject
[chinhands] Oh, do tell. I'm looking for tips there, too. So far, I've tried scolding, yelling, and scolding after having patched him up in his own bathtub.
no subject
Have you tried begging? Guilt sometimes works for me.
(no subject)