TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[inthenightmods]

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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Comments

[preseance]

Nah, but... I reckon it must've been a couple hundred years for it to have completely fallen off from a layman's memory you know?

( folks still remember the black plague, spanish flu. these things don't fall outta public regard so quick or easy, an' cancer's been a blight for an age.

gene's silent a spell, taking another drink. he's pleasantly warm, an' he can feel his inhibitions mostly fallen off. he ain't like some other fellas that'd get up and dance on the bartop, or run naked in the streets singin' la marseillaise, but. he knows when he's four sheets in. )

[sulfa]

I sure hope so. It was terrible, from everything I saw of it. Parents were both doctors and I was in medical school before the war. Got three months into my internship.

[ wade punctuates the statement with a quiet, ironic laugh, then eases into the silence too, watching the clusters of people gathered around the bar and moving on the dancefloor - virtually all of the clothes they're wearing either look like they were taken from an ancient history exhibit or are too modern to be recognizable; some of the townsfolk don't even appear to be humans. and then, as if to drive in the relative alone-ness further, the tail end of a song he doesn't recognize shifts into the brassy opening bars of one that he does, although very few of the other patrons show any sort of recognition. apparently the forest spirits like glenn miller. who would've thought. ]

I know half of this one. Not good at it, granted.

[preseance]

You don't say? My best pal, his folks were doctors too.

( wade has no cause to know just how rare it is he mentions reggie. maybe it's death what's loosed his tongue, or maybe it's the liquor. he's been dead two years now, ain't he? either way, gene seems to realize that ain't a topic he'd like to dwell on. he shakes his head instead, sets his drink down on the bar's wallside table and stands up. )

We ought to take advantage of that then, huh? C'mon. Let's celebrate the good news.

( don't leave a fella hanging, wade. it ain't polite. )

wade rn: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/BU8efMyCAAAiX-_.jpg

[sulfa]

[ Well When You Put It Like That. realistically - realistically it's not as if there will be any consequences to something as simple and normal as dancing, and given that these people have no frame of reference for what the lindy is supposed to look like, the damage to his dignity will be a little less drastic than it would be otherwise. besides, people seeing him dance badly for one song that they don't seem to recognize wouldn't be the end of the world.

maybe, he thinks with mild amusement, they'll just assume we danced like that "back then".

after a few seconds of contemplation, wade gives a resigned smile and gets up with a shrug. ]

On behalf of whatever lucky bastard discovered the cure to Polio but did not join us here today. [ he pauses, then adds as an aside: ] Keep your expectations low.

it's not that bad, my guy!!

[preseance]

( it ain't a thing he'd fuss on, generally. he ain't one for insistence. but wade agreein' to him gets a smile of a small an' genuine sort. he holds out his hand for the other fella to take. )

S'all right. I'll lead. All you gotta do is follow me.

( he an' alex took turns with the leadin'. but then, they were both strong dancers in their own rights. but the music's in him, always has been. he used to dance with his ma when he was a boy while his pa — an' later john — would play the piano. sometimes they could pester al into singin'. those were the nights of his heart, the air hot and electric with a distant storm, no other care in the world but dancin'.

when he moved on up to new york an' fell in with reggie, it became almost a thing of ritual. reggie would put him in good suits he'd outgrown but that were finer than even gene's sunday best an' he'd take him out and nudge him off towards pretty gals, an' they'd while away hours at nothin' else but that.

easy thing, to step out onto the floor. they're a few beats late to the party, but that ain't no thing. he falls into the lindy like each step is a psalm he knows for the learnin', and keeps his touch on wade light an' guiding. )

[sulfa]

[ gene makes it look effortless - clearly this is a man who has had a lot more practice than irwin himself has. he makes a rather troubling point of comparison for onlookers to measure his own attempts at the lindy against, but wade finds himself less embarrassed than he would probably be if this was transpiring at the night's dry beginning.

and, frankly, it's fun even though he's less than great at it, and he hasn't had much occasion to enjoy himself lately. there's a trace of wrongness about it, having a good time while dead, while everyone else had drudged on for another year - but he stows that thought away for later.

eventually "in the mood" fades and crackles into some fred astaire number irwin doesn't remember the name of, at which point he moves back toward the corner of the lobby where they'd started the night. ]

You're a good dancer. You do it a lot in Alabama?

[preseance]

( he laughs as they go on and retire, reclaimin' his beer without much fuss. he takes a seat beside irwin and bump his shoulder companionably. )

Some, I guess. But mostly I learned in New York with a pal of mine. He was dead set on makin' a dancer outta me.

[sulfa]

[ that makes more sense - the lindy seems awfully modern to be coming from rural alabama, where wade imagines things are probably a little more formal. ] See, the guys in my unit, they knew better.

[ not that he didn't enjoy frequenting the same establishments his peers did when they had weekend leave - he'd just preferred to watch them and their temporary girlfriends dance from audience seating at the bar. irwin reaches for a cigarette and moves his lantern onto his lap, fiddling with the face plate until it opens. it does a good enough job as a lighter; he takes a small drag before speaking. ]

Looks like that'll work for now. [ the still open face plate is a silent offer they'd all uttered at some point while they were still alive - need a light? ]

[preseance]

( the guys in gene's unit knew better too, mostly. curious thing, a platoon's care an' concern for the men what patch them up. love company would'a gone to war for him, an' he doubts it was any different for irwin and his boys. there was always a place for him if he wanted it at the mess hall, an' there were a fair few boys what'd save good things off the line for him. cups of pudding or sweet rolls or on very rare occasions, bottles of coke. an' he'd have refused most of it, if it weren't for the fact he recognized the act of givin' as bein' important to them.

he misses them. but he is hell an' gone glad they ain't here.

he lights up a cigarette he'd had tucked over one ear, tips his fingers in a little flick of thanks. )

What were they like? Your boys. If'n you don't mind the askin'.

[sulfa]

cont'd here.