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memesinthenight2020-03-01 05:53 pm
inthenightmods) wrote in memesinthenight2020-03-01 05:53 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME #9
TEST DRIVE MEME #9
Hello and welcome to the In the Night test drive meme for March! Thanks for your interest in our game! In an effort to streamline our application process and avoid future confusion between incoming and existing players, we will no longer have a reservation period. Applications open on March 22, and will be judged on a first-come, first-served basis.
While you're here...
- Take a look at our rules and faq pages to familiarize yourself with the game.
- Note that we have a (current) application cap of 15 apps this month for new players, as the game has a player cap of 70. 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 top-leveling is not limited to new characters! If current players wish to post a starter, 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).
- If you haven't already, please take a moment to look at our announcement regarding changes to the application cycle, which involves information concerning the 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
DANCING QUEEN (cw corpses)
When the ferry chugs up to the dock, its speakers are crackling with a happy song. What a fun way to bring in all the newcomers! Except... goodness, what's that terrible stench? The ferry docks and lowers its gangway as per usual, but the ship is quiet. No newcomers flock to the deck to disembark, and instead, the faint sound of buzzing flies can be heard over the breeze.
Boarding the ferry quickly reveals the source of the flies: decaying bodies, dozens of them, are littered throughout the ship. Some lie in bunks and could be asleep if it weren't for the rot, and others are strewn throughout the cargo hold and the deck. There are no lanterns among them, and there aren't any signs of fighting or struggle around the ship. Inspecting the bodies (if anyone seriously wants to do that) won't yield any definitive answers in terms of cause of death, but, oh. Though it's difficult to tell at first glance due to the decay, these bodies... They're residents of Beacon.
Maybe you find your friend or yourself or, oh, there's Rastus! And Robin! The gang's all here, albeit disgustingly—and Dancing Queen crackles over the speakers. Welcome, welcome!
—but before the ferry departs again, the corpses start to move. Moving about the ship, someone might first hear a sigh, or a sputter, or a little laugh, and maybe it could be brushed off as a trick of the mind until the bodies stand, hoisting themselves up with whatever limbs they have left, and drag themselves toward the deck. One by one, they slip clumsily over the railing and back into the lake, but not before they drop their disguises and slowly contort back into their usual forest spirit bodies (source).
Ugh. Frickin' spirits.
WELCOME TO OUR GAME: INTO THE DARK
In spite of the strange occurrences starting off the month, there's still work to be done in Beacon. Or perhaps it's precisely due to this that Rastus calls for the attention of anyone who will listen as they pass by his station at the bonfire. All but shoving a torch in your hand, he requests that you place it around one of the many locations that could use a source of light! A lot of new places have been discovered recently, after all.
In the event that you choose to choose to play with this prompt as game canon, please remember to report where you choose to place a torch on the item request page so the setting can be updated accordingly! For incoming players, this can be reported retroactively!
These efforts would be a great service to the community at large; Rastus reminds everyone that while the bonfire is a finite resource, it's still a resource that's meant to be utilized.
network prompts
IF YOU DIE IN THE GAME YOU DIE FOR REAL
Not long after the ferry shows up with, uh, no people and a whole lotta corpses (that turn out to be forest spirits playing a very uncool prank), Robin makes a post to the network!
Oh holy god uhhhh OK so no idea what's going on with the ferry this month, wow. Data from the portal is saying nobody new came through, so... nothing to worry about!!! Probably!! I really don't know anything more than you guys right now but I'm gonna get in touch with Dr. Solis. She'll have a better idea of what's going on than me. I'll get back to you all as soon as we figure out what's up.
In the meantime..........!!! I thought it might be fun to play some games to get our minds off stuff? How about hangman! Here's how to play if you don't know!
She attaches a little set of instructions for any characters not in the know. Fun stuff!
But, uh oh. If you get a letter wrong, you'll notice it's getting just a bit more difficult to breathe... Is the air particularly heavy today? Allergies, maybe? No, the feeling only gets worse as the game continues, each incorrect guess tightening an invisible noose around your neck.
The only way out is through, it seems, as nothing provides any relief save for winning a game. But what happens if you lose...?
(If asked, Robin also has no idea what's up with that. Heck! Maybe it's the lanterns acting up again? In any case, the weird hangman curse will resolve itself within a day or two.)
PARTICIPATION FOR CLOWNS
All at once, a notice arrives in everyone's inboxes. It appears to be some sort of strange attempt at a bingo card! It would, potentially, be a mystery as to who crafted this and, well, exactly what it's supposed to mean, were it not for the underlying message that accompanies it.
The real problem here being, of course, that the librarian's apparent game is a bit, well, difficult to understand. Well, it's possible that it won't require any stringent rules. Ultimately, those who bring in a bingo card that has a row of marks in any particular fashion will receive a free gift compliment of the spirit as a way to promote the library. There might be some fabric missing where the shirt has been bitten into, but, hey, nobody's perfect.
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i'm so glad to have earned that icon
Pudding's fingers are still dug into the ends of her bangs, now pulled almost straight down over her forehead, but the snarling twisted-up grimace on her face relaxes all at once as her eyes widen. Her voice, tone and diction all slide right back down to the softness of earlier.
"But... you don't look dead."
your new goal: earn the most exaggerated expressions
Her wild pendulum swing of emotions is worth keeping an eye on. It's still probably safe to assume that it's a product of stress, and hopefully she'll relax in time once she gets used to her new situation. Hopefully.
"But I died at home. This whole world is dead, as is everything in it. But coming here, your body gets fixed, sort of. Our lanterns hold our souls."
He'll gladly explain more, but this time he takes a few steps backward along the pier and motions for her to follow.
no subject
Pudding's fingers slide over her forehead again, touching the edges of that hole, trembling as they test and feel bone. As they touch the inside of her eye socket and she wonders why her stomach doesn't feel as sick as her heart. Another product of being... like this?
Not just dead. Rosinante is dead, so he says, and yet he has color in his cheeks.
She startles when he explains the lantern, lets go her face to whip back around and look at... the thing you might call a lantern, dirty and battered.
...Does this say something about her?
She crouches to pick it up with both hands. The metal is cool... even the cracked glass barely warm. A light inside does flicker when she rights it, dancing out of line with the moonlight. Even that small an amount of fire should be hot...? After a beat, she pulls it close to her chest and cradles it in both arms, finally moving to follow Rosinante down the plank. With the dim, oddly cool light dancing so close in her arms, she looks even grayer, subtle wrinkles puckered into her skin deepening with shadow. She looks as weathered and long-withering as any of the faux bodies did. Her joints creak audibly as she moves. But she's incredibly steady and sure-footed moving from ship to plank to dock, no sense of difficulty changing sea legs for land.
no subject
"It's... not perfect. Your lantern's in rough shape, so I'm guessing that's why you're..."
He trails off a little. It's the way she said that, and the way she keeps fidgeting and panicking, that convinces him this is definitely not how she normally looks. He hadn't wanted to assume - they get people who are green, people made of metal, all sorts of things. "I'll see if I can contact the only person who knows anything about how the lanterns work. Maybe she can explain what happened."
no subject
She squeezes her
remainingeyes shut hard for a long moment, trying to hold back real, genuine tears. After so long getting misty-eyed on command, taking things the other way is harder. Not impossible, never, but always harder.She manages. Blows out a slow breath, feels it whistle through the torn skin of her upper lip. Ew. Swallowing, she looks up at Rosinante again, and steps closer.
"Thank you. ...I'm Pudding. My name is Pudding."
no subject
"Do you want one of the doctors to have a look at you?" he asks as he leads her off the pier and toward the bonfire square. Even if there's nothing they can do, someone should probably check and make sure - but then again, it could easily turn out that none of them can actually do anything for her. She could just be like this now, at least until Dr. Solis gets farther in her work.
pretend I didn't fuck up my ~spooky voice~ italics
It... genuinely is, for once. That's always been a bullshit line from her, saccharine-sweet and endearing. But now, still so-sweetly-polite but subdued, she means it. This man didn't recoil from the disgusting thing she is now in horror. ...Maybe at all? She thinks even that first stumble back she maybe just surprised him. Surely dead-decaying-stinking is more disturbing and creepy than a third eye?
So maybe he's just... nice. Even fake-nice is better than creepy usually gets, in her experience. (And maybe, after the Straw Hats, it's okay to think that some people really are just nice even when people are weird. They even treated their skeleton-man kindly.)
She takes a deep breath. "Yes. Thank you." Maybe she can be fixed. ...Her fingers brush over her forehead again, this time only grazing the edges of the hole. Okay. Maybe not fixed. But maybe made less smelly and gross.
2/2
When the bonfire comes fully into sight, she stops in her tracks.
A sparking sputter pops loudly in her lantern. She startles, dropping it entirely, a black line seared into the grey of her clammy palm. The lantern makes an ugly clank, several glass sides shattering, the weak flame inside guttering in the air.
Something's wrong something's wrong something's wrong -
"- Sorry!" Pudding backs away a few steps, lantern forgotten, eyes on the fire rather than her brief companion. "I - have to go. I can't be here."
She has no idea what or why but the fire is wrong, bad, too bright too hot too much and everything tastes like salt and she turns and runs, leaving the shattered lantern behind. She's barely out of sight before it putters out.