March - April Test Drive Meme

[indigo_events]

➞ Post with a character you wish to test drive in this game's setting.
➞ Tag other people's starters and thread out shenanigans!
➞ Invite your friends! Try out new characters! Come play with us!
➞ Have fun!

NOT SURE WHERE TO BEGIN YOUR TEST-DRIVE JOURNEY?
CHECK OUT ALL THE LOCATIONS WE HAVE AVAILABLE IN:

JOHTO | KANTO | SEVII ISLANDS

Feel free to make various prompts in multiple locations!

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OTHER USEFUL LINKS:
NAVIGATION | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS

Comments

[legalize_kyawoo]

[The worst part about meat is how raw it is. Not, like... how it smells, even though that's also awful.

(Hers doesn't smell like much, but everyone else's smells really bad... secretly Kumiho wonders if she also smells really bad but she can't tell because it's her bad smell, but last time she thought about that for too long she wanted to cry. So that's not a subject for today.)

No, it's that this meat is so raw and tender, so sensitive and weak. Running can only be achieved for minutes at a time, if that. Walking seemed better, almost indefinite, but that was a trick. Her feet hurt so much! It isn't fair! Even if she takes off her shoes, they still hurt! And then she has to look at them! Ugly meat things! So many moving parts! So much horrible meat!

Her lament could--and normally would have--gone on, were it not for the sudden wailing from down the road. Her instinctive response to surprise is to jump--which doesn't get her as far as it might have normally, even if she does remember not to somersault this time. She lands on her (sore!) feet and hurries towards the sound, already in a cranky enough mood to tell this guy off for interrupting her agony with his!

If Licorice can take a moment to notice her, he'll see her bright red eyes narrow from the bottom up, white eyebrows furrowing just a bit.

She... is legitimately trying to figure out what to say to the layers of comic disaster before her. He might be a Cookie, but--

This is so far outside of her current mood or her current skillset that she finally gives up, flipping her fan up to cover the lower half of her face in what would normally be purposeful coyness... okay, it isn't not that here, but....]

Ooh? What's the problem? You need a little... help?

[... other than the obvious.]

[rancorice]

[Who cares about sore feet when the whole package sucks?! Everything sucks! But then again, Licorice's feet aren't really bothering him at the moment, his is a more emotional and mental agony, which is often the case anyways, but he didn't need a meat related existential crisis on top of the burden of his own inferiority complex!

However, the sound of that voice which is decided neither his nor the angry complaining of his noibat pulls him back down to Earthbread, and he's left staring at her a bit owl-eyed after he likewise jolted in surprise. The movement causes the sad scythe to flop—the "blade" taking a moment to bounce before the shoddy scotch tape gives way and it hits the ground with an audible slap.

If it were physically possible, he'd frown even more deeply.]

No! I don't need any help! Everything is clearly fine!

[As he snaps at her, he leans down to snatch up mediocrity in cardboard form, just before his noibat kicked it out of his reach, but he also nearly drops his squirming zigzagoon in the process. He's kind of a struggling mess.]

And even if I did need help—which I don't—I don't see what you could do about any of it!

[legalize_kyawoo]

[She watches him over the top of her fan, eyes narrowing even further--until they're bright, red-irised slits.]

Oh? Your 'fine' is really so loud and lonesome....? How sad!

[There is no sympathy in her voice as he flounders, any composure or dignity he could have held onto the floor in pathetic pieces. On the contrary, she sounds bright and coy.

However, this does not mean she's feeling sympathetic. But maybe she can make this work in her favour... she could have a little fun and make herself feel better. Whether or not it makes Licorice Cookie feel any better is a separate matter.

She snaps her fan shut with swift grace, picking up the sad cardboard 'scythe' 'blade' in her free hand and standing up in one fluid motion before spreading the fan once more to hide her--was that a smile? or a frown? it was too fast to tell... well, it hides her mouth, anyway.]

Why don't you try me? I'm not just any Cookie! I'm just full of surprises.

[Alternatively, you could at least try to be quieter.... right now, you're making yourself her problem either way.]

[rancorice]

H-hey!

[Is that at her commentary, or her snatching his scythe up before he could? Maybe both! Either way, he looks utterly put off and not the least bit pleased by any of this—until he realizes what she just said.

Cookie.

She's a cookie! His expression melts away to something more profound, addled by hopeful bewilderment as he stares at her with wide eyes for a moment too long. A moment long enough for Schwarzwälder to wiggle free of Licorice's grasp and plop on his butt on the ground. It's a beat of a second before the little guy is zigzag-ZOOMING all over the place.

Licorice doesn't pay him any mind, not when his hands are now free to jab a finger in Kumiho's direction.]

Wait, wait! You are a cookie, too?!

[legalize_kyawoo]

[There's no mistaking the way she lights up at that question. It only lasts a couple of seconds, but it's there. She even drops the fan from her face for it. ]

Of course I'm a Cookie!

Do I look like I was meant to be Meat?

[As soon as she asks that, she looks slightly alarmed--or maybe despairing--before her eyes squint up from the smile she again hides behind her fan. She's still got the piece of his pathetic cardboard 'scythe' in hand, but her eyes are on Licorice Cookie, her stare expectant.]