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memesinthenight2019-06-14 11:39 pm
inthenightmods) wrote in memesinthenight2019-06-14 11:39 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME #1
TEST DRIVE MEME #1
Hello and welcome to the In the Night test drive meme for June! Thanks for your interest in our game! Reserves open on June 20, and applications open on June 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/application cap of
20 apps per month(this has been waived for the first month!).- 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.
- Though threads can become canon, they cannot count toward AC.
- 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
YOU'RE DEAD, JIM
You haven't been in Beacon long when you find yourself in Bonfire Square, staring into the flames and thinking about how you ended up here. Maybe it was an accident, a sudden freak thing that you never saw coming until you woke up on the ferry, or maybe it's a miracle you made it as long as you did. Maybe death was a relief. Maybe it was just your time. Whatever the case, you can't help but reflect on your final moments as you linger in the firelight.
But however you died, it's behind you now, and you're here, stuck in this little town with just a few buildings and a smattering of other people. You're going to be here a while, so you may as well get to know your neighbors, but... Would it be cathartic to commiserate about your deaths? Or is your time better spent stocking up at the general store? Then again, you've got plenty of time, so why not catch a drink or two (or three) at the Invincible? Pretend you're unaffected by your death, and, well. Fake it 'til you make it, perhaps.
Point is, you have options. You're dead, you died, and this is your "life" now. Better get used to it.
AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES
Currently, there's only one place to live (technically speaking) in Beacon: the Invincible, a tavern and inn located in Bonfire Square. Luckily, the place has working amenities (minus light), and the forest spirits don't charge anything for your stay. Unfortunately, it seems there may not be enough rooms for everyone. Guess you'll have to get cozy!
Maybe you'll try to pick a roommate from around town or in the bar downstairs, or maybe you'll just walk into the first room you see and choose that way. Want a room all to yourself? Get ready to fend off any potential intruders. And the fun doesn't end there.
The Invincible's rooms aren't all created equal. Some may have had their furniture stolen or become a dumping ground for unwanted pieces, resulting in a single bed, five dressers, and other equally distressing situations. Will someone sleep on the floor? Will you nail two beds together to form bunk beds? Maybe you just want to make this room into something more like home— potentially to your roommate's chagrin. Whatever you decide, this is where you're staying for now, so you might as well get comfortable.
network prompts
HACKER VOICE: I'M IN
In order to use the network, you have to register a username. Er, at least, that's how it's supposed to work. For some reason, new users have recently been able to bypass that requirement, allowing them to post anonymously. Time to troll strangers on the magical internet!
Eventually though, you'll need a username in order to use the tablet's other functions, like the direct messaging system. So hey, why not take advantage of the ability to source opinions, and workshop your potential usernames on the network? Share ideas, get feedback, steal ideas, critique others, and figure out what you want everyone to call you.
TURN ON YOUR LOCATION
When you wake up, you're in the woods. An iron shackle complete with a chain leashes you to a tree, and the only light you have is your lantern. You've never seen this area of the woods before. You certainly didn't go to sleep here.
Hm.
But, all is not lost. You find your phone in your pocket, as well as a scrap of paper covered back to front in cryptic scribbles. Are these clues to your location? They must be. You also spot a key dangling from a branch, though it's hanging from a tree you'll never be able to reach from here. Perhaps someone on the network will be able to lend you a hand...
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gentle phonetags
Oh, they make bourbon in Kentucky, do they? Ain't never heard tell.
( it's said so mild and airy it almost ain't sarcasm. almost. near a record for the fastest one of them homegrown kentucky boys took to mentioning their state's pride and joy. he takes initiative to set the plate on down an' then holds out a hand. his knuckles are worn and broad with work, rough hands replete with silvery scars. man of the earth, he, one what's worked for a livin' half his life
to say nothin' of the uniform. )
Eugene Hicks.
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Raylan Givens. Ain't got much to be proud of 'sides the bourbon, you oughta just let me have it.
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( oh, but he knows he is, an' ain't never shied away from it none. just him bein' here is evidence plainly writ'. honestly, he'd quicker fight anyone who called him cruel. gene claims a spot to sit in one corner of the room, which is really more just him holdin' up a dresser in a casual lean. he hooks his thumbs in his belt and gives raylan a polite nod. )
Gun-slingin' man, ain't you?
( hands tell a story, triggers leave a callous. he's seen it on soldiers who've put in a lotta practice. 'bout as obvious on raylan as soldiering is on gene — bloused pants, the heavy cable knit wool sweater that'd be about an antique by now. no webbing or rank to speak of, no arm band with its red cross, but. the clothing's inherently army. )
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[ raylan's known enough military men to recognise it in someone – more to the point, he's not plain stupid. neither is gene, apparently. raylan nudges his jacket aside for the sake of transparency, to show his gun in its holster. he doesn't really want to alter the mood of the conversation by leaving it out there like a threat, which he doesn't intend to be making, so he lets his coat swing back over it a second later. ]
US Marshal. You're – what, army?
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the gesture's taken for what it is. gene never has had an especial fear or dislike of guns, he simply nods. )
Yessir. I'm medic. 82nd Airborne division with the 505th. 1945.
( he doesn't bother with anythin' more specific than that. it'd be like askin' folks to know the particularities of the napoleonic war. he knows how history works. )
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Well, it oughta be quieter around here for you, at least. If nothin' else.
[ raylan, like most other people his age, has a somewhat idealised version of the second world war, in stark contrast to the aftershocks of vietnam, desert storm, and the vast array of international clusterfucks the US military made after 1945. he's not naive enough to think that everything about that war was glory and gore and nothing else, but in his head it seems so much easier to justify. ]
My grandpappy was an army chaplain. [ it'd be insane to think that they might've known each other, but it's a point of reference all the same. ] Can't imagine he was all that good at it.
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Reckon it will be at that. Though there's a lotta folk here suspect it won't be so for long.
( he's inclined to trust folks' instincts. you saw it a lot in the war, men havin' an unusual melancholy an' a bad feelin' in the pit of their gut that often saw them shot or killed later on in the day. happened often enough gene learned to listen an' pay that soul special mind. whether or not this is purgatory real an' true remains to be seen, but he'll still be on his guard.
that second part, though. lordy, it's a stark reminder that his generation went on to be grandpappies. time's an inevitable march, an' yet he ain't accustomed to thinkin' of himself that way. someone who's old enough to be this fella's father an' then some, by the count of the calendar and clock. )
Ain't got nothin' but respect for the chaplains. He was a good man, your grandfather?
( war changes folk. some get meaner than a rabid dog afterwards. he saw enough of that in his father's generation, an' he knows well it'll be in his like rotgut too. he's worried that'll be al's fate when he's back from the pacific. )
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