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

QUICKNAV
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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

I can't imagine ever not wanting to come back to this place and never even knowing I left in the first place.

[ Eliot raises his eyebrows, but there's a smile on his face. ]

Do you have anything I can put this all in? Or maybe I can leave some here and get it when I get settled. I guess I can shrink it down for easier transport - Is magic fucked here, too?

Uh huh, so. That must be weird for you? I'll help you if I can.

[By not explaining and by just slowly inching towards the open door so he won't have to watch Eliot pack up the clothes and walk out, leaving Quentin with just the memories. Again.]

I can't really promise not to mess up your clothes if you leave it here. How about you just wrap it up in one of the sheets. You can look like a very well-dressed hobo and put it on a stick, but. Hey, Eliot? Where are you going to live?

[ That's sort of the thing Eliot had been avoiding. He's very good at that sort of thing, using his flippancy to act as if he isn't worried about things. He shrugs a shoulder as he starts to carefully fold the clothes. ]

You know. I'll find a place.

Yeah, right. Sure. Uh huh, so. I'll just let you do this thing and when you're done. I'll be in the kitchen.

[Maybe it will be easier, without all the reminder of Eliot around? Maybe it'll feel less like getting his heart ripped out every time he comes back here, when there's no pile of clothes to dive in to and no vests to stare longingly at.

Yeah, right.

Friends. Best friends. Quentin's got this.]

Maybe you can see if there's room at the Inn?

[He calls up the stairs.]

[ Eliot tries not to think about how weird Quentin's acting. Like, if their roles were reversed, he'd be more than happy to have Quentin here. Or back. Or whatever.

Eliot just keeps folding, even though he has nothing to put the folded clothes into, when Quentin's voice comes up the stairs. ]

Do I need money or something for that?

No? There's no money here, and. No, you don't need anything. Everything is free.

[And maybe no one is going to mention to Eliot how Quentin tried to destroy the church in a fit of grief, or mention how he drank the town dry in the month that followed.

On second thought, maybe telling Eliot to go to the Invincible where Quentin had made a spectacular ass of himself in a drunken stupor wasn't the best choice.]

This is-- so, this place, horrible as it is? It made communism work? Everyone seems to be working together and helping out. For free.

We're all dead. Capitalism seems a little pointless.

[ And if the whole point of them being here is to save the world or whatever, then having to work and earn money would put a damper on that.

But that's good to know. Eliot had been pretty certain that, if he played his cards right, being new would grant him at least a night at the inn. But it's nice to know it can serve as a potentially temporary home. Except - ]

Where did I live before?

That's fair.

[Still, some day someone might decide to start charging for services and then the whole town is fucked. Maybe that's what triggered one of the other resets? Robin would know.

Uh, don't ask questions, Eliot! That's not fair. And Quentin counts his blessings in the fact the at least Eliot can't see his face as he calls back.]

You lived here. That's kind of why all your clothes are here? I didn't go out and just bring them here. You should maybe take your toothbrush too. And the soap, except then I won't have any soap. It's fine.

[ Eliot opens and closes his mouth, pausing in his folding as he turns towards the stairs a bit. Then he turns back to his task. If this is his place, can't he just … Live here? Except it looks like in his absence, Quentin got a roommate, and Eliot can't in good conscience insert himself back in this life.

The Inn it is. ]

I think I want a fresh toothbrush. I know it's technically mine but also it feels weird. Do you have a suitcase or something?

[Quentin, who came here with nothing but the clothes on his back and a MetroCard from the Underworld just stares at the empty stairs.]

I, uh. No? Why? And just, roll it in the sheet or something? Stuff it in a pillowcase.

[Why are you like this? Why is anything like any of this and Quentin slips back up the stairs, shoulder resting against the doorframe as he looks at Eliot.]

I've been using a pillowcase. You can do that, and it'll hold. Put a strap on it.

Use a -

[ Eliot puts down a shirt and turns to Quentin, looking at him like he's crazy. ]

Seriously, a whole life time with me and everything else and you think I'm just throwing this all in a pillowcase?

[ God bless Quentin Coldwater and his sweetness. ]

I'm just going to leave most of it here and take an outfit or two. Then get the rest when I find a place. Please don't sleep in it once it's all folded.

... I'm not sleeping in it.

[With a guilty look on his face, because Quentin still hasn't learned how to hide just what he's feeling at any given moment. Unless he's playing cards.]

Yeah, well. It's not like I've ever seen you move before, so. Don't worry, it's safe here until you find a place.

Do you maybe want a cup of coffee. I have some in the kitchen and maybe you can meet Riku?

Do you have anything stronger? Coffee would be great.

[ What's a cup of coffee between friends? Maybe it'll make Quentin stop acting so weird. ]

Coffee's nice and normal.

I'm all out, it's just coffee or tea.

[Because Quentin drank the cabin dry and then started in on drinking the whole town dry.

At least the ferry brought new supplies.

Go ferry.]

It's been a while since you've had my coffee, because it's really not that nice. It is hot, though.

I don't believe any version of me would live anywhere without emergency booze stashed. Hey, my flask isn't here, is it?

[ It didn't make it here with him, and that's going to be hard to adjust to. Having a drink always on hand. And, god, he still really wants a cigarette. Quentin's shitty coffee will be nice, though. ]

There was an emergency stash, but it's gone now.

[Jesus Christ, El... you died, of course there's no booze left. And yes, please, continue talking about how you died, that's not traumatic at all.

Quentin frowns and shakes his head.]

I think-- that you had it on you when you-- died. I haven't found it anywhere. It might be with the missing pieces. Of your body.

Test Drive Meme #7

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