checkyourself | THE TEST DRIVE MEME: MARCH

THE TEST DRIVE MEME

SO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE CREEPY HOTEL BRIGADE.

Well, welcome potential apper! Here we have the handy dandy test drive meme so you can get a feel for how your character might react to the game setting. This post can also be used to cultivate some of those required sample threads for the application.

Feel free to play any scenario you so please. However please note that TDM threads cannot be used for Activity Checks (for existing players) and will not be considered game canon unless transposed comment for comment into logs in checkingout. We also recommend avoiding playing the initial arrival, so that the intro log doesn't become repetitive and boring for you. Other than that, go wild.

Here's a few additional useful links:

PREMISE | THE HOTEL
TAKEN | RESERVES | APPLICATION

BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS.

No time for losers, because we — have waffles and pancakes and crepes and delicate bowls of ripe bananas and juicy oranges. We have bacon and oatmeal and cereal and milk; we have coffee (that's really hot and will burn you quite spectacularly) and tea (that, on the other hand, is miserably cold and bland). And we have orange juice (that might just kill you)!

Basically, every component one needs to start the day off right. Which is good, because this is the only meal ever served in the hotel. So come one, come all — get it while it's hot and try to pick among seats amidst the crowded circular tables, or stand along the wall. Bemoan the lack of hashbrowns or fight over the last fork. Mix, mingle. Have "fun".

DON'T YOU LOVE MY TASTE IN MUSIC.

What starts as soft, subtle musical notes wafting out of unseen speakers?

Yeah, that quickly manifests into blaring, loud, aggressively high pitched notes — so distorted, and reverberating so magnificently in the main lobby that even those impenetrable windows rattle in their frames.

And what's more, there doesn't seem to be an off switch anywhere in sight. Good luck finding one.

GOING DOWN.

Right by the stairwell in the lobby is an old timey elevator, the sort that really ought to be manned by staff to insure that it's in decent working condition and won't kill you. But it's usually not. And usually doesn't run.

But today, your ears are treated to an oh-so pleasant ding, and the doors will slide open, offering a ride to the floor of your choosing. Finally, no more calf workouts on the stairs, right?

...well, you probably should have taken the stairs, because three seconds in the entire carriage shudders, screeches to a halt, and refuses to move.

Then the lights begin to flicker.

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE.

Don't see a scenario that appeals to you here? Make up your own. Get crazy with it! Good luck getting outside.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If this guy was apparently a doctor, why was he getting the creeps from him? There was something in that knowing expression that set his guard up, but he was willing to play the game and see where this went. He certainly wasn't going to ostracize someone who could potentially give him information, creeper feeling or not.

He didn't recognize the name, but he filed it away all the same to ask around. He said nothing until the good doctor had been comfortably seated. "Brock Rumlow, but I only answer to Rumlow," he said, eyeing the doctor and offering no more to his title.

"May I inquire as to what you're a doctor in?"

"Rumlow, then. How quaint," Calvin mused, smirking at a joke that only he would get. He folded his arms on the table, his gaze never once leaving the man across from him, absently tapping out a tune on the tabletop.

So. This man wanted to know his skillset, hm?

"I've studied human anatomy for the better part of twenty years. There isn't much that I can't do, my friend," he drawled, the tune he was tapping coming to a halt now. "It pays to have as much knowledge as you can when you're going into the medical field. Makes anything you might come across easy to achieve." An eyebrow lifted then. "And what about you? You're definitely not just some average joe."

Quaint was the kind of word that Pierce would use to fit in with the social elite, and Rumlow might have the vocabulary to make the same kind of talk... but he had to work on it. He supposed that it would have gone better to show a man's social status better without the similar danger sense that he got off the man, like a single wrong move was going to make him wish there were more people in here to use as body shields.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing over the man carefully again, mostly hands. "No, after that long, I don't suppose there is. Knowing how to take someone apart is also a great way to know how to build them back up," he drawled, the corner of his lip rising slightly. Maybe he could be called doctor for his own skills on the matter.

"Ex-military." Which was truth but not all of it.

Calvin outright chuckled then.

"Very true. Though I've always been more fond of the taking apart side of things," he drawled, grin morphing into a bit of a smirk as his fingers started to tap again. There was no sense to it, no real tune, more an impulsive gesture than anything even as his gaze stayed fixed on the man.

Ex-military. Now that was intriguing. Again it connected, in Calvin's head, to the lot that Coulson had been recruiting as of late but there was a much harder edge to this man. An edge that made Calvin like him quite a bit.

"So you're well versed in the art of taking others apart as well. What an interesting pair we make then, hm?"

Now there was a confirming comment, especially when paired with that smirk. So, this guy wasn't just dangerous and creepy, but the guy knew how to use skills that could bring a potential world of hurt, huh? He liked those people. Never trusted them, but he liked them.

"Well, in your field of study, I guess there are plenty of ways to test your skills," he said simply. That would explain the knowledge about the silverware after all. How many people did this old man have strung up by pin (or knives) through their hands and skinning them for some sort of enjoyment?

"In more ways than one," he agreed before inclining his head. "I suppose since you're a doctor that means if I get an ouchie, I can come to you and let you kiss it better for me."

"Oh if only you knew, my friend. If only you knew," the older man mused, drumming his fingers against the tabletop now. "I've found that, over the years, I can use my skills to accomplish many things. It makes finding things out much, much easier." And it helped him get resources; contacts. Anything he could possibly need wasn't hard to get.

Especially when there was only one life he honestly cared about and that was his daughter's.

Calvin snorted softly, smirk widening.

"I can't promise a kiss, my boy, but I can promise that there is no one better suited for the task of fixing others than I am," he mused, his confidence clear in the way he spoke. "And don't hesitate to bring your friends if any of them need attending to." His head tilted the slightest bit. "I don't tend to discriminate."

"Well... letting my imagination run wild suits me just fine right now," he replied, silk over steel in his voice. He tilted his head just slightly as he tried to pick out a rhythm or potential code to the manner of tapping. If it was, that wasn't any code that he had picked up along the way. "And what would a man such as yourself want to find out that takes years?"

No, and he could promise that he'd rather doctor himself with a red hot poker and fishing line in his own room rather than present himself for medical with this guy. Who know what he would potentially find missing when he woke up again, if he did at all. No, he respected a potential predator when it sat at the table with him.

"Well, considering I'm finding myself with a distinct lack of friends so far, I'm not the best person to present medical plans too," he drawled. He was certain that he would have plenty of enemies soon enough. Those he might offer if he hurt them. "Discrimination is limiting."

"Oh, all sorts of things. People are very willing to talk when they're underneath a scalpel," the doctor said in a mock thoughtful manner, his words dripping with a cruel undertone that spoke volumes. After what Whitehall had done to his wife, Calvin hadn't pulled his punches anymore. His methods had become ruthless and he saw everything through until the end.

Calvin's eyes narrowed a bit as he studied Rumlow again, shifting around the pieces of the puzzle this man was creating in his head. His fingers began to tap again, this time with a distinct rhythm that was most definitely code.

H-Y-D-R-A

"Is it now?" the man mused, tapping the same thing several times over. "Friends are overrated in times like these though. It's easier to keep moving when you don't have something tying you down."

"Last time I checked, most people were supposed to be asleep when under one of those," he drawled, but now he knew for certain. It was a good thing to, and he wondered if the guy was packing any scalpels around to breakfast. That would make things messy and yet actually rather entertaining.

His expression betrayed nothing even as he picked out the code in the change of tapping. He stared at the doctor across the table from him for a long moment before his foot began to tap against the floor lazily, for all intensive purposes, just a jig of his leg with no meaning until...

H-A-I-L H-Y-D-R-A

"Well, one never knows who their friends or their enemies are sometimes," he replied, his eyes flicking briefly around the room. "I believe in causes, not people. People only let you down and disappoint you."

THE TEST DRIVE MEME: MARCH - APRIL

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