TEST DRIVE MEME #4

[inthenightmods]

TEST DRIVE MEME #4

Hello and welcome to the In the Night test drive meme for September! Thanks for your interest in our game! Reserves open on September 20, and applications open on September 22.

While you're here...

• Take a look at our rules and faq pages to familiarize yourself with the game.
  
• Note that we have a reserve cap of 20, and a (current) application cap of 13 apps this month for new players, as the game has a player cap of 60. An accurate count of current players will always be available on the taken page.
  
• TDM threads can become game canon if both players wish. If the situation isn't something that could happen in-game, you're free to chalk it up to some strange hallucination, a shared dream, or other mysterious circumstance.
  
• Note that this is not limited to new characters threading with characters already in-game. If current players wish to thread out the TDM prompts as canon events, they are welcome to do so. They are welcome to make posts in the main comms for TDM events as well. Please note, however, that actual plot clues or happenings will not occur in TDM prompts.
  
• If you plan to apply, please keep in mind that we do require at least one sample thread on the application to be from our TDM (though it doesn't need to be the current TDM).
  
• You're welcome to use the provided prompts or come up with something on your own, but we do ask that all threads take place in our game's setting.

Thank you again, and we hope you'll choose to join us!

log prompts

GATHER YE ROSEBUDS WHILE YE MAY

With a cloud of mourning having weighed heavy on Beacon over the last month, the Lighthouse Keeper has decided to try and rally the community with a game: a selfie scavenger hunt! With the promise of (secret) prizes for those who play along, she's provided a list of 25 different items to track down and take a picture with. And, of course, all submissions will be public for others to view and comment upon. A town forum, Instagram-style. How fun! Feel like teaming up? Finding a companion to go searching with could make the task go by faster, as there's nothing saying that you can't both submit the same pictures so long as you take them together. And what's a proper game without company?

This prompt is a mini version of this month's Gather Up event.

IT'S RAININ' SIDEWAYS

Overall, the weather has been mild lately. Since Autumn hit, the standard has been overcast darkness blotting the stars and little wind. The rumble of thunder sounds just before the downpour begins, as if a switch has been flipped up in the clouds. If you're in the Invincible, the houses in the village, or any of the other solid establishments, it isn't anything to worry about, really. Mostly, it just means hunkering down until the storm passes. However...it seems that someone opted to build themselves a structure in the square that's proven not to be able to withstand these harsher elements. Whether you're the unfortunate sap in the tent or you're merely a bystander, one way or another, you notice its roof cave in, the beams placed to support it buckling inward and trapping the inhabitant inside. It's not enough to crush someone, but it'll surely be difficult to gather oneself as the wind and the rain bears down without mercy. Call for help and maybe someone will hear you, or be the good Samaritan that runs to their aid.

network prompts

I CAN'T *PBBT* UNDERSTAND *PBBT* YOUR ACCENT

Something's wrong. The things that you type and the things that you speak are transforming themselves upon being posted to the network. Or maybe that's not quite accurate, because everything in your posts are certainly your own words...it's just that indiscernible static has descended upon the page and crept into your audio, blocking out pieces of your statements--just enough to change the overall meaning of what you were originally saying. Efforts to clarify don't seem to be improving the situation, and it's hard to say if there's any way of fixing this. Maybe it's a comfort that the problem isn't isolated on your end; after all, that effectively takes the issue out of your hands to solve. Or maybe it's just the opposite. Maybe knowing that the network is experiencing widespread failures, however mild, fills you with a sense of dread and unease. One thing's clear, at least: you'll need a bit of luck to get your point across for the time being.

THE TITLE EQUIVALENT FOR WHEN YOUR GRANDMA COMMENTS ON YOUR UNRELATED FB STATUS AS IF SHE'S WRITING YOU A PERSONAL LETTER

Sometime in the recent past you had a problem. Maybe it was a dire emergency advertised to the community at large, maybe you became overwhelmed with stress and needed the ear of a close friend, or maybe it was just something embarrassing you were sharing in confidence. Unfortunately, regardless of what the message was, it looks like it disappeared the moment you hit send, as if it had been eaten by the network itself. It's been long enough now that you've brushed it off; you've been able to solve your problem one way or another and moved on. That's when it appears, unprompted, on the network for all to see, regardless of how private it was meant to be. Well, now you might have a bit of explaining to do.

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Comments

wildcard 2

[otrazhenie]

[ The rain had started while Elena was outside, making her way back to the inn after meeting someone, so she's almost as soaked as the man who enters the building and makes his way to the bar. Hair a wet stringy mess, clothes plastered to her skin, she looks every bit the sad young woman she is, no sign of the vampire in sight.

Her own glass of whiskey, held aloft in one hand, is going to be due for a refill after another few sips, and she watches as the spirits prepare his drink the same way they'd done hers. ]

I don't think so. The spirits would let us know if we needed to worry about it.

[saintjames]

[ He drags his gaze away from the window, sitting himself down properly again to transfer his attention to the woman he'd addressed. They're in similar sad states, right down to the glass with liquor in it, neat. Something about the familiarity makes Gordon relax a little for the first time since setting foot off the ferry. With everything so utterly bizarre, the normalcy of sitting with someone at a bar counter, commiserating in some manner over their mutual sad state of affairs, is a welcome balm. ]

What, these things?

[ He gestures with his thumb at the teetering tower of spirits. Gordon narrows his eyes. He thinks they might be arguing over what to give him. When he turns his head back toward his company, his chin goes before his eyes do, and he doesn't bother trying to hide his dubiousness. ]

You understand them?

[otrazhenie]

[ There is something strangely satisfying about their shared misery, neither of them choosing to end up in this place but still having to deal with it and everything involved. Freak storms, uncooperative bartenders, an oppressively unending night... It's not exactly what she'd thought the afterlife would be, that's for sure. ]

No, but I think fear and panic is pretty universally understood in any language.

[ He gets a pointed look then, almost challenging him to disagree before she takes another sip of her drink. A pause, and then she knocks back the rest in one large swallow. Then she leans over a bit to set the glass closer to the spirits before addressing them with: ]

Could I get another, please?

[ Manners are important, any good southern girl would tell you so. Even if she doesn't sound it, she was born and raised in Virginia and those rules of polite society are deeply ingrained. ]

[saintjames]

[ He doesn't meet her with any sort of challenge, instead canting his head with in a mute Fair point. Given the casual way she's talking about it, Jim can only assume she's been here long enough to get a finger on the pulse of things. She doesn't seem worried, and if these strange little beings are more interested in arguing over what to give him than the state of the bonfire, Gordon isn't one to argue the point. ]

I've seen some strange stuff but this takes the cake.

[ Whether he means the spirits or the whole situation at large it's difficult to say. Either way, when he finally gets his tumbler of what he hopes is whiskey, he takes the glass and gestures a cheers at the makeshift bartender. ]

Thanks.

[ Before taking a sip of it. It burns, sharp and familiar on the sides and backs of his tongue, pushing simulated warmth into his core to chase out the chill of the rain. He sighs when he sets the glass back on the counter. ]