memesinthenight | Test Drive Meme #7

Entry tags:

!tdm

Test Drive Meme #7

TEST DRIVE MEME #7

Hello and welcome to the In the Night test drive meme for November! Thanks for your interest in our game! Reserves open on December 20, and applications open on December 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 2 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

MAGIC CASTLE IN THE LAND OF SWEETS

You wake up one morning to find that The Night Market has come to Beacon, rising from the depths of the lake to set up booths and stalls all around the square. As a market, they offer a variety of goods and services typically unavailable to the good people of Beacon. Lantern charms that grant special and boosted abilities? Check. Magical potions to imbue the imbiber with fun but temporary effects? Got 'em. Specialty goods from home? Can do. Cigarettes? You bet your buns. The only catch? It all comes at a price.

Accepted currencies at the Night Market include: Building and scrap materials, old tablets, old lanterns, captured forest spirits, torches, information, and most importantly... Plutonium. Of course, attempting to barter is always an option... but these currencies are your best bet for dealing with the various vendors offered by the Night Market.

And finally, if bartering isn't your speed, The Night Market has also brought with it a host of activities akin to a street festival. Warm up with a hot toddy or gourmet latte from the pop-up coffee booth, sample a treat from the candy shop, or win your bae a stuffed forest spirit or mechanical goldfish from the carnival games. Above all? Have fun!

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

BATTLE WITH THE (RAT) KING

Throughout the month, the residents of Beacon will discover that a familiar and not particularly wanted visitor has returned. Strangely, the creature appears to be incised by the holiday decorations that have been put up by those so inclined. It goes after any decoration it can, intent to rip them down, tear them, sometimes even run off in a tangle of garland. In particular, the Rat King goes into a frenzy any time it spies a nutcracker, and won't stop until it sinks its teeth into the wooden soldiers. It could be worse, you suppose. The thing doesn't seem to be paying mind to people unless they get in its way. Still, there are some residents that went to a lot of trouble to put this all together. Maybe you should help?

Or maybe you're scrooge and just want to watch the Rat King do its business. That's also fair. Just expect to get some coal in the secret santa exchange.

network prompts

MARCH OF THE TOY SOLDIERS

At some point while you were out and about, minding your own business, you find yourself in quite the troubling situation. All of a sudden, you're surrounded by what appears to be a small army of tin soldiers. The reality, of course, is that they're all somewhat small forest spirits that have decked themselves out in pieces of scrap that act as army-like uniforms, and not real toys at all...but still, the effect is unsettling. They're not all that threatening, really, aside from being creepy, but there are so many of them, and they hold sharpened, bite-sized spears that they keep trying to jab into you any time you try to move out of the circle they've made to sequester you.

Ultimately, you're able to more or less make out what they want: a ransom, of which they do not have the ability to properly communicate. They won't rest or let you go until you post of your plight on the network and give them what they want. You know, just, who knows what they actually want. That's still up for debate.

CHILDREN'S GALLOP

RINGLE DANGLE JINGLE JANGLE!

This is the nosie that greets you on an endless loop from the Bonfire Square. A small group of spirits have gathered there and set up what appears to be a donation pan, which they keep smacking and rattling as they provide all of Beacon with a rousing and unending set of holiday caroling. Unfortunately for everyone who isn't a spirit, this basically just sounds like coordinated screaming. And the screaming does not stop. Maybe for some of you, this would be easy enough to ignore in one capacity or the other, but it seems the spirits have accounted for this, and are very insistent on being given the attention their cheery efforts deserve.

Which is to say: throughout the day, everyone receives what is effectively spam emails to their tablet in the form of...very loudly written words. The emails pour in, over and over:

WE WON'T GO UNTIL WE GET SOME WE WON'T GO UNTIL WE GET SOME WE WON'T GO UNTIL WE GET SOME WE WON'T GO UNTIL WE GET SOME

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I waited at the church for more than a week--

[Quentin haltingly explains, not quite ready to pull away just yet and he gives Eliot one more tight squeeze before he gets himself enough together to mostly let go and end the hug. He's still standing close, though. One hand on Eliot's shoulder as he rubs at his eyes with the other one.]

I think I kind of flooded the place, but you're back. Thank fuck for that, and you're okay? Nothing's missing or?

[Eliot looks okay, he looks fine, but rumor has it someone came back with scales in places, so. It's a valid question. Quentin can hardly breathe, dizzy with relief and probably smiling like an idiot, but who cares. Eliot didn't die.]

I have no idea what any of that means, but yeah, I'm fine. All in one piece and everything.

[ Eliot gives Quentin a fond look. He's glad to have been so missed, even if he has no idea what's gone on while he's been in Fillory and Quentin's been elsewhere. Here, maybe, or something.

Which reminds him - ]

So, we got the last key. From the fairies. We can finish the quest now. This is part of the quest, right?

Quest?

[And at first, Quentin just draws a blank on that. Quest? Well, it's not not a quest? But then again, it's also very much not their quest. The look on Eliot's face is also something weird but it's not until Eliot can't stop talking that the smile slides off Quentin's face and is replaced with something closer to a frown. His hand clench on Eliot's shoulder.]

Uh, what? I'm sorry, could you just-- say that again. About the fairies.

[ Like, okay, it's fair. Quentin hasn't exactly been in Fillory and all this key hunting has taken all of them all over the place. But it's not exactly filling Eliot with anything relatively optimistic, seeing the way Quentin looks right now. ]

You know. The quest? Seven keys bullshit to go save magic? Margo basically single-handedly showed the fairy bitch that not all humans are shitty and we got the last key. To go save magic.

Yeah, I know that part. But.

[Oh man, so this is weird and awkward. This is Eliot, but not Eliot. Not the one with the Monster inside of him, not the one who came on the ship with him months ago, or. Maybe it was and this is a memory spell of some kind. Because why the hell not? It's still better.

Taking a deep breath, Quentin tries to keep the hurt, heart-broken look off of his face and just-]

So, hey. El? You really don't know what this place is? You didn't, just, look at the tablet? Maybe you should do that. Read it. And, so. This isn't about the quest. This isn't about the quest at all.

[ His shoulders slump a bit, and he sighs, as if the last little string of optimism he'd been clutching too is gone. ]

I was sort of hoping it was all just a crazy fever dream. Or, you know, some fun new quest plot twist. Shit.

[ Classic. Why can't anything ever work out in their favour? And, worst of all, Eliot has no idea what it means for their friends that aren't here. Maybe he'd let himself play stupid because it was easier than thinking he'd never see Margo again. ]

This is your last chance to tell me that you're pulling an elaborate prank and you're about to pull me out of this headspace.

I wish I could. I really. Really wish I could do that.

[Quentin hunches his shoulders, folding up in the chair with one leg bent up against his chest and he rests his arms around it.

There's just so much to unpack, and so much to say that Quentin just kind of clams up and frowns down at the books spread out on the table in front of him. They're all useless.]

That's what you remember? Margo and the last key? There's nothing after that, about this place or about. Anything else?

[Say yes, Quentin thinks suddenly, fiercely. Remember me.]

That's it. Me, Margo, Fillory, fairies, and keys. Sorry.

[ Eliot's not really sure what else to say. He feels weird apologizing for something he feels like he has no control over. He feels even weirder that apparently he's already existed here and Eliot's not really sure how that all works but he's not the type to try and figure it out. ]

Someone told me you'd maybe be around here so I just came looking.

That's okay.

[It's really, really not, but that's not on Eliot. It's this place, and the spirits and the whole fucking deal with all of this. But. Sure, Quentin vaguely remembers the keys, the quest and before Alice stabbed them all in the back. Before Eliot pulled a gun and drowned under the will of a monster.]

So. Yeah, this isn't that. It's-- we're dead. Here. And. And now everyone in town has to find a way to stop the World Eaters from eating, well, the world [a wry smile, and Quentin rolls his eyes.] Yeah, I know. It sounds lame, but. If we can't find a way, the lighthouse keeper is going to reset this whole thing and then it starts over. Until someone finds a way to stop them.

So much for rest in peace.

[ Eliot slumps in his chair. He looks at the light shed by the lanterns, then at Quentin. He presses his lips together before exhaling with a shrug. ]

Well. Save the world. It's what we do, right? We got the Beast, we got the keys. I assume we can stop World Eaters.

Right? That's what I thought. That was six months ago, and now. I'm nowhere near finding anything. There's no book. No one to ask. There's just nothing here.

[Which, fair. Quentin hadn't been doing any of that for the past month. It was all drinking, all the time. He might still look it, too. Red-rimmed eyes and pasty skin. Or maybe it's not so visible since the light is down low with just two lanterns and Quentin's is on the table to illuminate the book.]

Jesus Christ - Six months?

[ Nope. Eliot's not going to think about it. Shit is weird for them all the time, he's just going to add this to the pile. ]

I mean. There has to be something, somewhere. You're good at finding the things no one else notices.

Yeah, thanks. For that vote of confidence, but. There's nothing, and. Really, it would be a lot easier to find things if other things didn't keep happening.

[From the attacks to the well, more attacks, to people dying and the eternal darkness of this place. One thing after the other, pulling people apart as much as it's pushing them together.]

To be fair, I know some things, and other things I'm really just guessing. But... did you come on the ferry or did you wake up in the church?

[Daylight lost the color yellow and the guy in charge, had had scales. Maybe this was Eliot, but not all of him came back. Maybe instead of losing color, he lost bits and pieces of himself when the spirit brought him back.]

Ferry. Look on the Brightside, I'm here to radiate a little bit more light in this otherwise dark and nightmarish existence. With my charming personality.

[ Eliot flashes Quentin a smile. He knows he has absolutely nothing to say or contribute that will possibly make it better, so he may as well just joke a little. ]

So. Fill me in. Who do I need to know and who do I need to avoid?

You don't want to get your things at the cabin, or-- no? Okay.

[A brief pause because wow, Eliot. Straight to the point and not wasting a minute, and Quentin ignores the way it makes his heart skip a beat to see that smile.]

So. I know we all came here through a portal. Someone, or something, is grabbing us when we die. I guess the portal is somewhere over the lake, or close to where the ferry docks, but I can't get to it. Every time someone tries to go across the water, they die. Someone, some really big idiot, tried to steal the ferry and crashed it. So, there's really no way to get to that portal.

[There are notes on his tablet, and more notes back at the cabin, all stacked up in neat piles on every available surface, but Quentin still has most of it memorized.]

Can't fly over the water, can't swim or use a boat to get across. At one point, I thought that maybe the girl in the lighthouse-- Robin. That she wasn't real? She's the one who resets us, if we fail. Maybe she was an A.I., maybe she was one of those spirits wearing a Robin-suit. But, she's real. Young, but real.

[And he goes on, explaining the hallucinations and the green eyed spirits, the attack that came after the feast and the 'rules' - find a way or get reset. About the twenty other resets in the past twenty-five years and the few leads they got from the dreamers. About the killing fair and the portals opened in the past. About something looking back through that portal.

Quentin talks for a while, hands waving through the air as he explains and the only thing he doesn't mention, is Eliot. How Eliot was there, every step of the way and about the bedroom they shared.]

And yeah, so. Right now, I'm trying to find more information about this town, but. The librarian isn't that helpful with that.

[ To his credit, Eliot listens. He's pretty sure he won't remember half of it, or even three quarters of it, but he listens. He'll get used to this place eventually, but he's glad he has Quentin here. Just like back in Fillory, Quentin's going to be the go-to-guy. ]

When have librarians ever been helpful? Come on, you're going to strain your eyes, and while you'd look super cute in a pair of nerd glasses, it's also my duty to keep you from being too nerdy.

[ Eliot picks up Quentin's lantern and stands, waiting for Quentin to join him. ]

Uh, also? You shouldn't touch people's lanterns. It's-- it's connected to our life force or souls or something. If you get too far away from your own, it's going to hurt and get far enough away, and it kills you.

[There's really no reason to explain more than that, about the experiments with distance and just how painful it could get. But he still gets up, piling the books neatly on the table except for the ones he'll want to read later. Those go in the bag.

Right. So. He can do this.

How did this go again? Best friends. Sure, piece of cake. If the cake was on fire.]

Where did you want to go? There's not really much to look at, but there's a crab that serves ice cream soup. In the park.

[ Eliot immediately puts down Quentin's lantern, and takes a step away. No killing Quentin, thank you very much. He even wipes his hand on his shirt, like it's going to somehow erase what he's done. ]

Ice cream soup sounds awful. Like it's just melted ice cream. What's the clothes situation here?

Uh.

[Right, of course. That tracks. Eliot and clothes, and Quentin clips his lantern back on to his belt before taking the first few steps away.]

I have some clothes. It's-- yours. And you can have it if you want. Most of it is from the general store, but. It looks nicer now? It's at the cabin.

[There, explanation explained. And maybe Eliot won't even notice that all the clothes are piled on the bed and it looks like someone has been sleeping on top of them.]

I want those clothes.

[ Eliot gets it. He's gotten enough from the people he's run into to know that he's a familiar face, and, again. Not thinking about it. The perk is that he has clothes, and maybe other things that were his. ]

Can't save the world without a good outfit, you know?

It's yours.

[Not just the clothes. But. Quentin just smiles tightly and heads off towards the previously shared cabin, to the empty wine bottles and the food he hasn't been eating enough of. To the cabin he's been avoiding until he couldn't anymore, because no one can keep sleeping in the library.

Everything. On. Fire. But it's fine.]

It's just this way, you can look at it and see which ones you like. There's... so many vests.

[The cabin isn't far, and it looks just like always. Like a log cabin with dark fairy lights strung up outside the door. With Quentin's notes and Riku's food still sitting on the counter, the two bedrooms. Both with rumbled sheets and there's all of Eliot's clothes. Just, lying on the bed in a mess.]

I'm just going to give you a minute. To. Look through all of that. I'll be downstairs in the kitchen, if you need anything.

You can never have too many vests, Quentin.

[ Eliot makes sure he takes notes along the way. How to get to the cabin and what it looks like, because he has a feeling he'll be coming by a lot. Really, if it wasn't for the fact that it looks like both rooms are spoken for, Eliot would probably have just invaded on Quentin's space.

Before Quentin can - weirdly - leave Eliot alone with his clothes, Eliot frowns. ]

Quentin. Were you - Were you Fillorian mourning me or something?

No?

[Mostly just because he has no idea what that is. This was just-- normal, surrounding-yourself-with-the-clothes-of-your-dead-lover-to-smell-them kind of mourning.

Hand on the door-frame and Quentin just looks at the pile of slept-on clothes. Not at Eliot.]

It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Just grab what you want and I'll take care of the rest.

[Maybe by sewing it in to some sad kind of body-pillow. Maybe he was Fillorian mourning after all. Everything was kind of weird in Fillory.]

[ How silly of Quentin to think Eliot isn't taking all of it. Taking it where? Eliot doesn't really know exactly, but it's all coming with him. It's going to need to be ironed. Or steamed. He assumes this place doesn't have a drycleaners. ]

Hey.

[ Eliot turns to look at Quentin, vest in hand, eyebrows furrowed. He can tell something isn't right. You don't spend an alternate lifetime with someone and not learn all about them. ]

I'd Fillorian mourn you, too. If it ever happened.

[Yeah, Quentin is just not going to go there. To the place when he had to mourn Eliot not just once, but twice. And then the whole thing about mourning Eliot while his body was still walking around, murdering people and touching Quentin in weird ways.

Nope.

Not going there.

Instead, he makes a face and nods slowly.]

Thanks. Anyway, it doesn't matter because you came back, and. Yeah, you came back so everything is fine now.

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