memesinthenight | TEST DRIVE MEME #1

Entry tags:

!tdm

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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“Oh that’s a good idea! Bars always need more chair—“ She stopped moving towards him abruptly upon noticing the state he was in. Like that of a juggalo that was shot to death if she was being honest. Her face flashed with wariness for a moment before it smooths out again into concern. God don’t be judgmental Coraline. She hadn’t look much better when she arrived here. Who would have guessed that blood showed up super well on a white dress? God why were cults always so fucking dramatic.

“sssss… Do you like, need help getting cleaned up? I’m sure there’s something that will fit you in the general store. That’s where I got these duds.” She said with a small twirl, showing off her extremely unfashionable, but completely covered self.

"Yeah, that was next on the list. Help me move this stuff, and then I'll go see what they have," he says with a nod. He's no real judge of fashion - she doesn't look like she just died, though, so hey, job well done as far as he's concerned. Will what they have fit him, though? Usually he'd assume any decent clothing store worth visiting would have a variety of sizes, but given that none of the rooms in this inn are large enough for him, maybe he'll be out of luck for clothing, too. And then what?

"Here-" and with that, he starts trying to untangle the chairs from each other and pass one her way so they can get them out of the middle of the hall. He can worry about clothes later.

“Oh! Yeah! Duh.” She said nodding frantically, moving to grab the chair he passed to her. Huh, pretty light. With a shrug, she shifted so she was holding it in one hand, grabbing another chair with her free hand for efficiency’s sake. With objects in hand, she started to move down the hall towards the stairs.

“So like, where are you from? I’m from LA. It’s in the US… On Earth. If you know it.” Start broad Coraline. Start broad. Best not to assume the other would know exactly what she was talking about here.

"Seems like most of you are from Earth. I hadn't heard of it before today," he answers as he hefts a few of the chairs. His hands are large enough to grip several at once, but the hallway isn't big enough to accommodate him and armfuls of chairs, so he ends up only moving two at a time as well. Oh well, one more trip after this, then.

"Our world doesn't have a name. It's the only one we have, so it's just 'the world' to us. But I'm from North Blue, there. An ocean." The same lie he's had to give several times over, now, both here and at home. Easy enough, though he's getting the feeling it matters less here. Nobody he's met yet has even heard of his world.

“Maybe there are other worlds! You guys just haven’t discovered them yet. I mean, where I’m from. People thought they were the only ones for the longest time. Then we discovered other planets, aliens came, all sorts of stuff. Just gotta keep looking up.” She says, nodding sagely as she navigates down the stairs.

“Wait… so you’re just. From an ocean?” she asked, picking up that he didn’t say a country, landmass, or anything like that. Just. A body of water. Maybe there weren’t landmasses? Or big ones anyways like the ones back home. Finding out about other worlds was honestly so cool (and a nice distraction from even thinking about what happened to her).

Edited 2019-06-23 08:53 (UTC)

"Could be." Probably. People used to live on the Moon, too, a thousand years ago. It wouldn't shock him if there were people on other planets, if they exist. The stars are numerous and might be full of other civilizations. In fact, given what this place has already shown him, it seems likely.

The answer to her question will have to come in a moment. As he prepares to descend the stairs, one of the chairs knocks against the banister, which throws him off his next step. His heel sinks into air, rather than landing on wood, and suddenly he's taking the stairs like a bumpy slide. Thinking quickly, he jams one chair in front of him into the railing as it's about to pass and the legs hook in and hold before he can go flying straight into her. Don't worry - soon everyone will learn you let him go first down stairs, slopes, or any other tricky obstacle unless you want hundreds of pounds of Rosinante suddenly knocking you over.

Wide-eyed from the sudden fall, he takes a moment to catch his breath, then leverages himself against the furniture to stand back up and continues talking as if nothing much had happened. "Uh, sorry, what was that? Oh - yeah, an ocean. Well, all the islands are really small so that's how most people define where they're from, you know? Which ocean you were born in."

She felt the shadows around him shift abruptly when Rosinante started to fall, an aborted “Watch out!” falling out of her lips too little too late. She flinched back, dropping the chairs and pressing herself against the wall, automatically raising a barrier of shadow between her and the giant of a man barreling towards her. She hid there for a moment, taking deep, stuttering breaths when two things happened: he stopped himself and more importantly, she realized she had just used her powers in front of a “civilian”.

She froze, dissolving the barrier back into nothingness quickly in the hopes that maybe. Just maybe, he was so dazed he didn’t see. Fat chance, but she had to remain optimistic if she was going to keep back the rising panic.

“C-cool. T-t-that makes sense.” She said, attempting to feign normality though her trembling gave her away.

“We uh. We have some islands too but the smaller ones tend to be grouped up I guess so it’s just its own. Country.” She trailed off, looking down at the ground nervously.

Oh neat, does she have a devil fruit? He'd seen that darkness for just a second and it's not particularly easy to know what it was, but- no, right, his world seems to be the only one that has discovered the fruits. Everyone else talks about magic. Maybe she'll have a better explanation than the others.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says with an apologetic chuckle. "Are you all right? You, uh. Was that some sort of magic?"

For a single beautiful second, she thought she had gotten away with it when he apologized for that frankly terrifying experience. Then, he asked which… well, was better than she thought it’d go if she was being honest. She had immediately conjured images of being thrown into the bonfire by a screaming mob which may be what she deserved, but her very being shrank violently away from even the possibility of such a thing. Her very being really didn’t like the bonfire. Or the lanterns.

Her very being can fuck off.

“I. I uh.” She choked up for a moment. How was she supposed to answer when she no longer knew herself? Was it meta-gene? Was it fucked up cult magic? Was it both? What was ok anymore? They were dead!

“Idon’tknow.” She blurted out after a moment of stuttering. Honesty it is then. Which question was she answering? Yes.

I don't know. Right. It comes out rushed, and she's scared, meaning it's something she hides unless absolutely necessary. Strange, when the others have all been so eager to talk about their skills and in some cases even show them off just a little. They're proud of their skills and she isn't - or she fears a reaction. Horror, or retaliation.

Lots of guesses, not to many answers, and he's not about to interrogate a kid in the middle of a stairwell. Instead he shrugs, then continues moving furniture.

"Well, it as pretty neat. I've seen a few people here with magic, maybe you can ask them? I bet they'd help you figure out if it is or not." He's only kind of playing dumb. It's not like he knows what she did either. But hopefully the casual response will help her realize that whatever it was, it doesn't bother him.

She indeed did relax slightly at his blasé response, even mustering up enough life to give him a small smile when he said the others had been showing off. She had to remember that other worlds weren’t necessarily like hers, where simply existing as a powered being painted a target on your back. The approval of the public was such a tenuous thing, and there were always numerous shadowy organizations and hate groups prowling in the shadows. Only the truly powerful could afford to be out in the open.

God… it kind of sucked now that she thought about it. Why had she been so excited to get powers and become a superhero? Like yeah, there were cool moments, but overall, she just became more stressed and anxious about everything. The mounting pressure to become more involved in the community vs. her real identity responsibilities during the months leading to her death were—She was going to stop herself before she went down another thought hole.

“Thanks… it wa—is pretty neat yeah.” Part of her was tempted to go to the others for help. Another part didn’t want a confirmation of all her worst fears. The latter part was winning currently. She picks up the fallen chairs again, this time letting Rosinante go down first.

“Maybe I’ll ask. Later on.”

It's plenty ironic that he's hiding things from these people, and he knows it. Not a one has turned up from his world, enough where he's even used his surname in a tiny handful of introductions where using a given name alone felt underwhelming. These people won't make the association that most in his world would jump to instantly at the slightest hint of the Donquixote name. They certainly can't even dream of the association that a limited few would make. His powers, too, are nothing that unusual and nothing to worry about displaying, but having spent the last few years hiding them, it comes as instinct to keep doing so. Were it not for the last few months on the run with Law, it would probably even feel strange to speak at all. Every time he had given Sengoku his updates he had felt hoarse afterward, and had begun to wonder if a person could lose the ability to speak by neglecting it for so long.

Here, he'll rebuild himself, and she can too. Whatever she's hiding from, it probably isn't here. He hopes not. She looks too young to have to live in that constant state of fear.

"Yeah, well. That network is probably a good place to start. Do you have something like that where you're from?" he asks as he picks his way carefully down the remainder of the stairs until he's blissfully reached the floor. Flat ground! As if that can protect him from his particular feud with stable footing.

((oh no how many typos can I spot in my last tag, good lord))

She perked up at the change in topic. Now here was something she was comfortable talking about (par for the course for anyone in her generation to be honest).

“Yeah! The World Wide Web! Internet! Lotsa names.” She said excitedly as she followed him down to stable ground, moving to set the chairs down against a fairly empty wall, dusting her hands off in an exaggerated manner. They were someone else’s problem now. Maybe the chairs could be used to fuel that bonfire!

“There’s a lot more like websites and apps of course! So way more stuff to do. You could talk to anyone around the globe in a flash. Real fun stuff…” She trailed off as she realized she may be acting a bit insensitively.

“Why am I talking like you couldn’t have possibly had anything like that… Did you?” She glanced back at him, ready to take another trip up the stairs for more chairs.

[[ur so valid omg]]

"No, actually, we -"

As he turns to follow with the same plan in mind, he immediately snags the tip of his shoe on the lowest step and thunks face-first downward, though at least he manages just barely to roll onto his shoulder and avoid something extremely stupid, like smashing his nose or chin against a step. But as before, he seems to shake it off as he gets his arms beneath him and pushes himself up, then stands and tries again with more success. It does take him a second, though, to regain his train of thought, and he's already internally wincing at the expected responses so he just keeps talking with as minimal a gap as he can manage.

"-Uh. No, this is the first time I've heard of anything like it. We have snail phones, so, you know. We can call each other, or some of the snails are modified for taking film or photos. And the news coos deliver the news - trained seagulls," he explains, realizing the name is not self-explanatory.

She was starting to get real concerned for this man. Once was an accident, twice was… something, three times would be a condition or something like that. She really didn’t remember the saying, if it even existed.

“Are yo…” She trailed off, successfully cowed by his bulldogged attempt at moving the conversation along. She knew she could be oblivious, but contrary to ~~popular~~ certain people’s beliefs, she wasn’t stupid. A sore spot then, or judging from how much he’s fallen in the past 15 min. or so, he was just Tired. Still, she couldn’t stop the concern written all over her face. There had to be some way to help him. Maybe she could try to catch him next time? Taking another look at how large he was, better not. Well, he did know about her powers already, might as well show they could be useful? (What if she accidentally hurt him though…)

“Yeah… snails… seagulls…” The words barely registered in her contemplation on how best to help, so it took her a moment to really process what he was saying. “Wait… Snails? Like they’re alive? Or they’re made of snails?”

As evident as her concern is, he's determined to ignore it. It's the only way he's found to reliably get people to let it go sooner rather than later. Having other people worry over him just isn't necessary; he's survived so much worse than a little fall on his own and there are others who probably need legitimate concern directed their way. And so far, he's doing all right with the stairs. So, proof, in his mind. All is well.

"Hm?" Why would they be made of snails? What a strange thought. "No, they're snails. We use a few different species, they're bred for it. We just hook up a rotary so they can connect to the right transponder, and a receiver so they can transmit our voices." He sure doesn't know the technical details beyond that.

"Mine actually came with me, but it didn't survive the trip here. Poor thing."

“… How does that even work? Like. You just have to connect stuff and they do that? Does it hurt them? Do you have to replace them like every year? Do they eat? Drink? Poop?” She said before forcing herself to pause, realizing she wasn’t giving him enough time to answer them in between. Besides, she had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t break his face or something.

Indeed, she turned around, taking the stairs backwards. She tried to project an air of interest, as if she was just that Eager for his responses. She wasn’t doing the best job though, as she was clearly concerned and just trying to make sure he didn’t fall again.

"Oh, sorry for your loss..." She mentally gave up a small prayer for the now dead snail. Rest in peace.

She's one of those types, then. Always trying to look out for him, as if he hasn't been managing well enough all this time. It's endearing until it gets overbearing. He'll wait before deciding which one she is. He manages the rest of the ascent just fine, and grabs another load of the useless excess furniture.

"It's all right, it was just a snail. But, I, yeah - of course they eat and all that, they're snails," he says, amused by all the questions. "Some of them actually live for years and years. I figure, they move slowly, maybe they age slowly too. If being used as phones and everything else hurt them, we probably wouldn't keep using them, it just wouldn't make sense," he says with a shrug. It's not like he's ever really thought in depth about it, though, they've just always been a normal part of life.

She barely manages to tamp down the urge to clap as she follows his lead and grabs more chairs as well. That’s just crossing a line, but look. A lot has happened in the short amount of time she’s known him. She’s genuinely a bit proud of him.

“Still, it’s kinda like losing a pet right? So must still kinda suck…” She frowns slightly. Using living creatures as communication devices was honestly wild to her.

"Yeah, I guess." For being a generally empathetic person, it's hard to feel that bad about the loss of a phone. Even one that had a face. "The worse part is jut losing that part of home."

Not because it could have called out, though of course he would have tried. But there's an intangible sort of connection that's gone now too with the loss of the thing. Almost like it would have meant he wasn't so alone here.

She nods sagely at that. She hadn’t really thought about it as losing a part of… well. Home. Considering she came in only with reminders of the worst day of her now unlife. Still, she still hadn’t managed to get rid of them. Just in case they were necessary to… get back or something. It seemed like something magic would require. That and knives were useful, even dumb looking ceremonial ones.

“… so did animals do anything else cool in your world? Besides act as phones and mailmen I mean.”

"Uh. Yeah, depends on what you think is cool, though. Like I know there are flying fish that some people have figured out how to ride, and part of the main government prison is guarded by trained wolves," he says with a shrug. "Lots of monsters in the sea are animals. Lots of nicer animals in the sea, too. Whales are all right."

So long as you stay on their good side, anyway. But isn't that the case with anything the size of an entire island but just as smart as a person? That's the sort of creature you appease and then get the hell away from before it can decide it's bored with you.

Her eyes would be sparkling if that was possible at the thought of riding a flying fish. Man, this dude’s world sounds so gnarly! Trained wolves are a bit less exciting… but hey. Good doggos. Working pups. So good. So pure. Ignore the fact they can and probably will murder you.

“Yeah, my best friend works with some whales.” She says, completely serious.

Edited 2019-07-22 20:03 (UTC)

"Wow, cool! Doing what?" he asks, immediately curious.

What kind of work would be done in conjunction with whales? Search and rescue, maybe? They would probably be pretty good at that. A number of other practical possibilities come to mind too but none of them sound like they would be much in the whales' interest - towing cargo, wrecking pirate ships, all the sorts of things warships do without complaint. Working with a whale must mean their intelligence is enough of a benefit where you can give up a little bit of control to them.

She may not enjoy talking about her own abilities, but man Leon’s are still the shit.

“I think they’re working on using currents to divert oceanic pollution to more manageable areas for easy clean up! I can’t really tell you how other than magic. They tried explaining it to me once and it was just… a lot.” Just thinking about the sheer amount of physics makes her eyes glaze over.

Edited 2019-07-24 19:04 (UTC)

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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