memesinthenight | TEST DRIVE MEME #5

Entry tags:

!tdm

TEST DRIVE MEME #5

Hello and welcome to the In the Night test drive meme for October! Thanks for your interest in our game! Reserves open on October 20, and applications open on October 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 10 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

MAMMA MIA

The town is quiet, the forest spirits behave business-as-usual, Rastus doesn't know what's up. Whatever's going on, you'll have to figure it out for yourself.

And you will, though the hallucinations are subtle at first: objects moving when they shouldn't, people's proportions looking just a bit off, voices in an empty room, and so on. Is it just your mind playing tricks in the darkness? Might be! As the days go on, the hallucinations are harder to ignore, no matter how much you may wish to wave them off as flukes. What's wrong with everyone's faces? When did all the howling start? Who do you hold onto when the world drops out from under you? And those hands...

While you might know it can't be real, it certainly feels real. But at least it can't last forever... Right?

This prompt is a mini version of the game's Bury a Friend event.

GIMME! GIMME! GIMME!

Although the month is already well underway, residents of Beacon will notice a brand new shipment being delivered to the general store—only this one comes via the forest, as a small legion of spirits quickly drop off crates of boxes at its doorstep before scampering back into the woods. Hopefully nobody is riding too hard on hoping for further rations or supplies, because opening them up quickly squashes any notions of a full month's restock. Instead, it looks like each crate is bursting with costumes! Coming in all shapes and sizes to fit anyone of any age or decree, there’s plenty to choose from. Something scary? Magical? Clever? Or maybe even a bit on the sultry side? Dig deep enough, and you’re sure to find something to suit your tastes, props, accessories, wigs and all!

If nothing else, surely you can find an alternate use for a bit of spare fabric in your size, but what's the harm of having a bit of fun? But, oh, be careful if you're playing dress-up while the hallucinations from the event are in play... These costumes might just have a funny effect on you. 🤔!

network prompts

S.O.S.

The morning is interrupted by an alert. The text, which helpfully converts itself to automated speech when opened, reaches every inbox across Beacon, refusing to disappear until acknowledged. The problem? The username it comes from is glitched and unreadable, and all attempts at responding directly appear fruitless. The message is simple, three words:

SOS. SEND HELP.
There's nothing that seems to be able to be done about it, but with the earnestness in which it appears, maybe it would be wise to discuss it with the other residents. Isn’t there something you can do, even to track down the source? Maybe that will help you better put it from your mind.

TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

The longer you stay in Beacon, the clearer it is that you’re here for the long haul. And, on that note, the clearer it is that this place is going to need a lot of work to meet your standards. Obviously there isn’t much that can be done about certain things, like the state of lighting, or some of your potentially missing powers, but there are a lot of things that would certainly improve your personal quality of life. And for that matter, maybe some of your ideas would be agreeable to others, as well.

Whether you’re here to call for the establishment of a club, a new business, or even some kind of monthly therapy circle, the best way to get your message across is to turn to the Network and give your pitch. Whatever skills you may be lacking in the organization of this project, there’s undoubtedly someone out there who can provide. What are you waiting for? No time like the present to start collecting signatures!

QUICKNAV
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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie!;
[ She's only arrived here a few days ago--enough to learn the bare minimum the scantist of the ropes--and it's enough for her to decide she absolutely hates it. It would be one thing if it was like a retreat in the Catskills, but it's not: it's an endless night--evening?--and, to put it bluntly, it fucking sucks. It sucks, and it's less because she looks like hell, although she does. Her version of hell, anyway: she's only got a three lipsticks in her purse, and her hair isn't perfect and prim, although she's done her best with what she's given. It's more that she feels completely and utterly useless. Her life has fallen apart for the second time.

She's from the upper west side, what the hell does she have to offer here?

Bright side of the situation: there are new clothes. Clothes! Midge is over the moon. There's a giddiness that settles pleasantly in her stomach, and she finds it's similar to walking into B. Altman when she has cash to burn. Something new. Something interesting. Something she's good at.

The clothes themselves, they're more costumes than anything, but that doesn't seem to bother her as she shifts through them, looking just a little bit like a raccoon sifting through garbage. A fabulous raccoon, of course. A Chanel raccoon. Finally, she thinks: somewhere I can be useful. ]

I can work with this. I can definitely work with this--Oh. [ She pulls out a rather risque looking version of a cat costume. ] I think there might be some lingerie mixed in here.

SOS;
If they want help, don't you think this guy ought to be a little more specific? At least draw us a map. It's the vague leading the blind over here.

Wildcard;
[ Despite her refusal to take off her heels, Miriam's trying her best to at least help out. She's one hell of a cook--don't be surprised if she grabs you to taste a soup she's put together. Otherwise, there's a girl dressed as close as she can to the 50s, trying her best to smile, sometimes writing in a pink notebook. If you want something more specific, go ahead and message me! ]

[Jo has been browsing the costumes for usable clothes. She's too practical to think of taking a costume to ever use as a costume.

She isn't really paying attention to anyone else in the store, but when a woman speaks, she lifts her head to find the voice.]

I guess we might still need it. [Jo only arrived wearing one bra. It might be tricky to replace it.]

[ Midge is the exact same way. For someone who's so very careful in her appearance and her manners--although she's a far shot from who she used to be and a lot more crass when she's in front of an audience or in her comedic element--she's looking at this less aesthetically and far more practically. Fabric is useful. Very useful. She's glad the blonde near her thinks the same thing. ]

Never let a single dress go to waste. Although I guess this isn't a dress. It's a smaller, streamlined dress. Undergarments. They're undergarments.

[ Guess who's not familiar with 'slutty halloween outfits' quite like this? This girl. She frowns, but only for a few minutes. ]

Cut the tail off of this thing and you've got a belt, with the right amount of work. I've yet to see any girdles--you'd think that counted as an essential around here. Maybe forest critters don't care about proper silhouettes.

[Jo can think of a few ways to wear it not as an undergarment, but it hasn't been necessary here. Either way, she gets distracted by the girdle comment and gives the woman a more thorough look over.

Is that a costume? Combined with the girdle comment, Jo is leaning towards no.]

I'm pretty sure they wouldn't understand what you mean. [The forest spirits, most of them anyway, try to be helpful. Jo can't help but imagine that humans seem weird to them.]

[The doom and gloom really wasn't really Queenie's thing. Everything about this place had been nothing but saddening and she was really missing her sister right about now. Tina. Tina would know what to do in all of this, she thinks.

But make do with what you got, and surely things can look up. Right? She still had magic, although she could tell that this place wasn't too fond of the magic sort either. It was better than nothing though.

What type of lady would Queenie be if she wasn't excited for clothes.] These are costumes right? I guess it never specified where you're supposed to wear them. [She sounds more than amused though.] Ain't this stuff real cute though. [The material though. A little less than desired.] You know, I loved dressing up as a kid. I wanted to be a princess and everything. You know, what all little girls wanted to be.

[ If she closes her eyes and listens to this girl's voice, it's almost like she's home. It's the subtle accent, the way she has her hair, too--two girls refusing to give up on looking nice, and Midge doesn't really understand why anyone wouldn't want to. She's a little superficial, sure, but mostly it just boils down to one thing: if she looks her best, she can trick herself into feeling her best, too. Plus, she really likes makeup. That's one of the suckier parts of hanging around here. ]

Princess? Good pick. Me, too. I wanted to go as Anna Karina once, but my parents wouldn't let me.

[ In retrospect, she kind of thanks them. Her smile is soft, even if her eyes are mischevious: ] New York?

[Queenie just has the lucky option of being able to clean herself up with a bit of magic and all. Perhaps she could use it for better things, but she had already figured out that fire through magic doesn't catch, and the only thing she can produce is water. After all, they can't make food out of nothing. It can only be conjured or made with magic. It had to exist already though.]

Who's Ann Karina? Someone famous? [A person passed Queenie's time, which wouldn't matter because she didn't keep up with Muggle gossip.]

Oh yes. [She gives a little grin and a shrug of her shoulders.] You're from New York too, aren't you honey? The scenery change isn't really to my liking either.

[The Soldier is always hungry, particularly lately when it's trying very hard not to eat into their limited supplies. So when the lady in... kind of almost familiar clothing... calls it over to taste whatever she's working on, it obediently comes over. Not a hard order to follow when it smells so good.

And because it's trying to experiment with being sociable, it asks first,]

What's in it.

[Yes, that is a question, even if the tone is a little flat. Also, the metal arm is not entirely on display-- it's got a hoodie type thing on, instead of its tac gear-- but the left hand is definitely made of metal, and it's not hiding that at all.]

Smoked brisket and mashed potatoes.

[ Midge's face is completely flat--her eyebrows don't even raise. Is the other's question absurd? No, not really, but Miriam is at that point where she's willing to banter with literally anyone, unwilling participant or not. She's going a little stir crazy in a place as quiet as this, can you blame her? She blinks a few times, pointedly, before actually answering, gaze never leaving his face, spoon held out just as pointedly as her Look. ]

The normal stuff you put in soup. Eat.

[The Soldier blinks back, then says meekly,]

Yes ma'am.

[And it puts action to words and accepts the spoon to try.

It tastes. Familiar? Like it's had something similar to this before sometime in its forgotten past. There's something not quite the same, though.]

It's good. More salt maybe?

[ Oh, she just got ma'amed. Miriam would have quipped back with the gentle correction of 'miss' (though it's technically Mrs, nevermind that), except she's too busy getting actual honest-to-goodness feedback.

She's not above knowing she strikes out with food. Curry, for example? Not one of her strong suits. So the other's suggestion is met with a genuine smile. ]

I'll take it.

[ She can't help herself--she beams, one step away from pumping her fist in the air in delight, and then proceeds to motion for the other to follow her. ]

You are going to be my next guinea pig. [ Wasn't he already? ] Come here.

[Honestly, anything requiring it eat food is going to be a willing endeavor. Being ordered to eat is not a hard order to follow, okay, so it follows her along over the wherever she's working.

It does have to ask, though:]

What's a guinea pig.

[The word is vaguely familiar, but not enough to really spark the connection needed to understand her clearly.]

[ continued here ]

[ Castiel has a bit of a tendency to get awkward when forces to interact with regular, completely normal humans that have no concept of the supernatural - they either try his patience, or he doesn't know how to handle them at all.

This woman so far falls into the latter category.

Harmless, he thinks, which is why he doesn't use his powers to yank his trench coat sleeve out of her grasp a bit too forcefully, and instead lets her pull him along. ]

I don't. I don't eat.

[ There's a few answers she's expecting: 'no thank you' or 'I'm allergic to x or y,' but not 'I don't eat.' She'd be incredibly insulted if she wasn't sure what exactly it means.

It's a direct statement, 'I don't eat,' but it's still incredibly confusing. Midge has had the spoon out, somehow not spilling a drop, and her hand is still technically on the stranger's sleeve. Her look hasn't changed since laying eyes on him--if she didn't work with a curveball like this, can she really call herself a comedian? ]

Of course you eat.

Edited 2019-10-18 00:18 (UTC)

[ His eyes flit from the offered spoon to the hand on his sleeve back to her face. He looks like he's not sure whether to frown or look scared of her.

Castiel is a warrior of Heaven, yet nothing spooks him as badly as normal people being normal people at him.

Carefully, he clarifies: ]

I can eat. I don't have to. Consequently, I ... don't eat.

[ Usually.

Eating can be strange when you taste every atom by itself. ]

[ moved here! We'll say she's cooking at the inn. ]

[Maes wasn't expecting the request, but then again it was probably a matter of right place right time. He offers the woman a pleasant enough smile and adjusts his glasses.]

That'd be fantastic actually. You could say I have a lot of experience being a taste tester, that and helping with the dishes were about all I was good for in the kitchen.

[Of course it was less taste testing and more being extremely biased towards his wife's cooking.]

[ Maybe it's the haircut, maybe it's the glasses--Midge finds a small comfort in the familiarity of his looks. She's not going to presume he's from her world, or time, or however all of this works: it's really very confusing to her, which is beyond frustrating, but she'll shelve that for a later date.

He gives her pretty much the best answer she's heard so far (he does the dishes? Wow!), and she doesn't bother hiding how ecstatic she is. ]

Good. Great! Come in. I make an amazing matzah ball chicken soup but beef, that's trickier--can never figure out why. Spices, maybe. Anyway, I think I've got it.

Edited 2019-10-18 01:29 (UTC)

[She wouldn't be alone in that confusion by far. Maes had thought he was used to weird happenings when he started hanging out with Roy and all that alchemy. Then he'd met the Elrics and thought he'd understood weird then. Now he was dead and there were other people here who spoke of strange things and spirits that he could barely comprehend.

And at this point he was just taking it in stride because what ELSE was he supposed to do? At least this particular encounter was coming with the promise of a home cooked meal...as much as something could be considered 'home cooked' when it was far, far, far from home.]

Matzah ball? Not sure I'm familiar with that one...is it something you make at home often?

It could be they can't give a more distinct message than that. Hard to say. I've never seen a username corrupted like that, it's suspicious to say the least.

[ The arrival of the costumes is not nearly as exciting for Elena as the arrival of new supplies, but it does give her hope that the latter might happen when the new month rolls around. She has to hope, though — the people here need those supplies with the months getting colder and then no closer to finding a solution to the mess they've been pulled into.

Moving closer to look through some of the costumes herself, a bit of her old self rising to the surface, she glances over at the other woman's comment, smiling in amusement. ]

Nope, that's a costume. Pretty sure it's a cat.

I don't know? I think the last thing I'd think about if I was dying, would be to send GPS coordinates. But, a name would have been nice, I'll give you that.

( Sarissa is, as always, coping with a stressful situation in the best way she knows how: copious amounts of whiskey, liberally applied. Admittedly she's not looking her best: some buttons from her button-down are missing, the shirt has a splash of blood down it and is patterned with flamingoes, and she has what looks like a real shiner of a black eye developing.

So, when she looks across from where she just landed on the ground and sees a pair of bright heels? Sarissa huffs out a laugh. )

Fuck. ( Hang on, she needs to take a swig of her booze. ) G'day. You're a patch of sunshine, arencha?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TEST DRIVE MEME #5

Miriam Maisel | The Marvelous Mrs Maisel

Gimmie!

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Gimmie!

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Wildcard (Oh man a canon I actually kinda KNOW)

:D it's a wonderful show!

Re: :D it's a wonderful show!

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oh my GOD what a good muse - also Wildcard

This is doubling as a voicetest tbh

The best of times

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Wildcard; offering of soup tasting

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text!

gimmie! also, omg midge!!

SOS - because how could I NOT! Text @ SuprNerd

wildcard