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

1. Hands
[When Maes was shot his last thoughts were of failing his family. When Maes arrived here his first thoughts were, well of his family, but pretty soon after that it was of getting something very stiff and very dark to drink. It hadn't taken a lot of prodding to find an answer and Maes seemed rather comfortable on that bar stool at The Invincible.

Or at least he was before the floating hands started playing around with the bottles, shuffling them around. Maes watched them, not sure what to make of anything here because he was dead and anything after that seemed like it could be acceptable. Of course, he was also a little drunk by this point too, but he'd never had hallucinations like this before today.

Ever analytical, he couldn't help but wonder if that was a side effect of dying. That was easier to think about as opposed to where his thoughts had been drifting of late.]

Hey, if you're gonna be movin' bottles you should move'm over here.

[His speech is slurred, and since to anyone else it might look like he is talking to thin air he probably comes across as even more of a drunk than he means to. Not exactly the best first impression.]

2. Costume
[It had been a long, long time since he'd had to wait around for shipments and supplies. It was annoying as hell and he didn't miss it, so when he heard there had been a drop at the general store he finished what he was writing and headed that way.

Unfortunately by the time he got there the crates were opened and had been revealed to be nothing but costumes. He supposed costumes could count as extra bits of clothing, but they would have to sort out some of the supplies first. Still, Maes can only be serious for so long before plucking a pair of cat ears colored like the emphasis Cheshire cat and popping them in a slightly crooked manner atop his head. He gives whoever is in the store a big grin.]

Well, what do you think?

3. SOS

Username - m.hughes
I'll be the first to admit I'm new to all this, but can someone tell me if there's a way to reply to a message or find out who sent a message that doesn't seem to come with a sender?

It just seems that with something of this technological degree that there would be a way to investigate further.

((OOC: I am debating bringing him in with CRAU memories of a previous game, but I haven't fully decided on that yet, so for the sake of simplicity I'm going to play this like he's fresh from canon))

[Mary herself has yet to pick out a costume, but when she sees his ears, she breaks out into a big smile.]

I like them!

[She claps her hands together.]

Now you need a tail!

[While it certainly pained him to see children here, if this really was the afterlife then it made sense. He was all too familiar with children dying just as easily (sometimes more so) than adults. He's adept at masking his own feelings though and just smiles to have pleased the young girl beside the crate.

He adjusts the band of cat ears and returns his attention to the pile of costumes.]

This is true. I'm not much of a cat without a tail. Think you can help me find one? There should be a matching set I would think...

[He sticks his hand in and starts rummaging through the items.]

Yeah, I'll help!

[She'll help for sure! She gets distracted by a few things, finding a star-topped wand, which she hands to him as a newfound necessary edition to his costume. Then she finds a large tutu, which she very earnestly also hands over...and then, finally--!]

A-ha!

[A waist-tie cat tail!]

[Maes accepts the wand and the tutu. He does not put them on, yet, but he holds them like someone who has just been given the most important of gifts. Maes then sets them aside carefully.

He figures he can try to convince the girl to wear them, but they'll see what happens. Maes is the father to a precocious three year old and knows all too well how easy it is to wind up in a tutu.

Of course then she produces the tail and he smiles.]

Hey! You found one, that's great.

[He looks back at the tutu and wand.]

You know if you wear this you could be like a fairy princess. Is that something you'd be interested in or should we find a different sort of costume for you?

[Rosinante is not yet drunk, for it takes quite a lot to affect someone of his considerable height. But he's trying. It's a last resort, an attempt to find a way to get some restless sleep after visions of fire and violence have kept him from getting any at all for days now.

So he's not really looking for a drinking partner. Not feeling terribly social. But he can't help his tendency to seek out and hoard information, and a drunk newcomer might be more prone to talking than one who's sober later. You never know what you might learn. After a moment of consideration, he stands, scoots his chair back (and ignores when the hands continue to draw the chair farther and farther away, screeching it across the floor horribly), moves his lantern first to the table, then covers the space in a few more paces to bring his drink over too. Only one usable hand still after the ferry incident, so he has to do things in batches.]

Only got the one bottle but the spirits can get you more. This one's pretty good if you want one like it.

[Well, pretty good for this place. It's recognizably beer. He'll take it.]

[The hands ignore him, continuing to skitter bottles around and Maes watches them with a growing sense of unease. He doesn't like these disembodied hands and it isn't because they are unhelpful. It probably has more to do with the fact that they seem to disappear at the drop of a hat or, in this case, the shuffling of approaching feet. Maes looks up, tilting his head up, and a little baffled that someone can be taller than an Armstrong. When he looks back to ask for another bottle, the hands are gone. Maes huffs and removes his glasses, rubbing at his face.]

Would. But they seem to have gone again. Didn't realize I could lose my mind in the afterlife too.

[He lowers his hand, looking up his new company.]

Guess I can take company instead.

[Gone? Well, damn. He looks over at the bar, but it's true, at least for the moment. The creatures who had given him his own drinks must have scampered off in the meantime, and he'd offer to split his bottle but there's not entirely enough of it left for that.]

They stock more around the back, though. Here, I'll grab us both a few.

[He's going to need more, anyway. So he sets down his open bottle and picks up the lantern instead to sort through the shelves behind the bar. Ends up filling a pitcher with something from a keg that smells strong. Better than dealing with a bunch of glass that can roll around and break. It takes a couple trips to get everything over to the table given his one good hand, but at least he covers ground quickly. Finally, with beer and some wooden cups he'd found, and himself and his lantern all relocated to the new fellow's table, he has a seat cross-legged on the floor. Easiest way to fit under these little tables.]

There, try that. Happy to provide company, too.

[One of those hands, clutching at the air, trailing strings like a puppeteer who lost his marionette, drifts over the other man's head and Rosinante watches it warily.]

'preciate it.

[Maes bobs his head in agreement. He hadn't quite figured out where everything was around here and so it was helpful when someone provided information like that. He would offer to help, he'd just realized that the giant of a man was wearing a sling, but when you're drunk and processing so many thoughts and memories it was probably for the best that he stayed seated for the time being. He groaned and rubbed at his head, muttering.]

What am I doing?

[He looks back up from the table when the man returns with new drinks.]

I learned a long time ago, with another friend, that drinking alone is a terrible idea. I'm glad I could get some company. It's been awhile since I've had drinks like this though. Not exactly the kind of thing you do when you become a dad.

[With Gracia and Elysia in his life he hadn't really needed it, not like he had during the war. Instead of drowning himself in a bottle, he had buried himself in the arms of his wife and then later his daughter. Arriving here was the severing of that connection and alcohol had seemed like a pale substitute, but he'd helped himself anyway. More of a distraction than a replacement, now that he considered it at all.]

[Oh, no. The poor guy. Rosinante shakes his head a little in sympathy as he pours him a drink from the pitcher, spilling some on the table in the process - whoops. He slides the drink over, then sets his hand around the bottle he'd been working on.]

Sorry to hear that. Being separated from your family, I mean. How many kids?

[Maes pulls the drink closer.] Thanks again.

[He takes a drink, somewhere between a sip and a long pull. He sets it down gently so as to answer the question.]

It's...[well, it's not fine. There's not a word for what it is that is a proper response for the sympathy being shown to him. He shakes his head.] It is what it is. Just the one, a 3 year old girl.

[He taps his pockets and produces a wallet of all things. He flips it open and quickly produces a wallet sized photo of a young blond haired girl with a bright smile He holds it out for Rosinante to see.]

See? She's adorable~

maes hughes | fullmetal alchemist

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3. SOS; Username @scientia

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