folkooc | September 2022 Test Drive Meme

SEPTEMBER 2022 TDM

INTRODUCTION

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Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.

All TDMs are game canon. You can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Each TDM will provide a scenario for how characters arrive in-game that particular month.

Playing TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.

Current players are allowed to have in-game characters react to TDMs via the Network or make a log with the prompts. Current players are always encouraged to tag new people on the TDM!

TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.

[ Prompt One ★ Prompt Two]

GOLD WAS THE COLOUR

Content Warnings: mood-altering substances.

What a Wonderful Harvest

It's harvest season in Folkmore. Apples, squash, potatoes, onions, peaches, sweet corn... all manner of crops are ready to be gathered, and golden fields fall willingly before the scythe. The air has a chill to it that you can mostly ignore in the sun but runs deep when you stand in the shadows.

After arrival you will find yourself out in said fields, maybe a little disoriented but not in any danger. It's peaceful.

In the farmlands you might be able to hear music floating on the wind. Follow it, or just wander by accident, and you'll find yourself coming upon what looks like some kind of costume party: people dressed up in cloth and vegetables - mostly gourds as masks - are singing and dancing around an enormous pole surmounted by the biggest Jack-O-Lantern you've ever seen.

The pumpkin people seem shy, but they won't turn you away if you wish to join their celebration - there are other Star Children like yourself here, and you might feel a little more comfortable with them. At least you can see their real faces. You can drink some apple cider and carve some pumpkins yourself if you like, or help out by husking some corn.

At some point, you will become aware of the fact that the dancers have stopped, and the object they've been dancing around has moved. The Jack-O-Lantern is looking at you.

The pumpkin king leans down, eternally smiling.

"Trick or treat?" he asks you in a deep voice. You'll have to pick one!

"TRICK."

The partygoers all watch you carefully. The lord of the harvest appears to think for a moment, then nods his massive head. One of the veggie dancers approaches you with a tray upon which are five cups of cider.

"Pick your poison," you're told, and you can only hope it's not literal!

Four of the cups of cider will have no effect whatsoever. But the fifth?

That fifth cup of cider makes you feel more social. Less reserved. Downright friendly, even. You want to talk and joke with people even if that isn't normally something you'd do. You might even join the vegetable dancers for a spin, and drag someone else along with you! Your judgment isn't quite impaired, but your inhibitions are definitely lowered. Might be a quick way to make some new friends, though!

"TREAT."

You are offered a large basket, held so that you cannot see inside. After some fumbling, you pull something out. What is it? It's an envelope. Or a cassette tape. Or a photograph. It might be the mixed tape you created for your high school crush, the poem you wrote about your broken heart, the letter you never mailed to your estranged father. It's something personal that is connected to someone from home somehow. As you hold it in your hands, you will feel an irresistible urge to explain it to the person next to you no matter how embarrassing or painful it might be. You can only hope that they aren't a colossal dick about it.

HELL WAS THE JOURNEY

Content Warnings: aggressive dogs, decapitated spectres, potential violence.

GET AHEAD

The sun sets earlier and earlier every day, but that doesn't mean there's suddenly nothing to do! The warm lights of homes all over Folkmore welcome people inside for parties. Of course, the Spirit People of Folkmore are rarely humanoid, so you may find yourself at a dance for frogs or a cocktail party for round fuzzy critters with giant eyes. Regardless of what kind of creatures you wind up partying with, they are excellent hosts!

When food has been had and drinks are flowing, someone suggests a time honoured tradition: the telling of ghost stories.

The guests take turns, spinning tales both familiar and not. One such tale is that of the Horseman and his Hounds.

This, the storyteller insists, is a true tale, and is as follows:

Folkmore is home to many Spirit People, and many other creatures besides. While most of these wish only to live their lives, there are certain powers that Thirteen leaves to their own devices, no doubt for reasons all her own. When the autumn harvests come and the leaves burn with colour and fall to the ground, the dominant spirit of lonely places is the apparition of a figure on horseback, without a head. Some versions of the story claim the horseman's head is carried before him on the pommel of his saddle, while others say instead the spirit carries a lit Jack-O-Lantern in place of it... and wishes to find a more suitable replacement. No matter the variation, the rest of the legend is the same: in autumn, on lonely roads, unlucky travelers will hear the baying of hounds. Moments later they will see the Horseman upon his stallion, and then the unholy troop will pursue the hapless travelers across hill and valley.

Some tales are told of Star Children fighting off the spectral hounds and challenging the Horseman to a fight, with varying levels of success. All are in agreement, however, that the sure method of survival is to escape over running water. Easy enough in some parts of Folkmore... less so if you happen to be caught out in the desert of Cruel Summer.

All parties must end, and this one does too, which means you now have to make your way home. Not that you're scared or anything, but maybe it's wise to walk with someone else tonight...

Not that it matters. Ultimately you and your companion will find yourself on a lonely stretch of road somewhere, and just as you've managed to convince yourselves that nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen you hear it.

The Hounds.

Turn and you'll see them, dark and sleek, and beyond them their infernal master. Atop a gleaming black stallion, the Horseman is gigantic in height and muffled in a cloak.

Whether you run or stand and fight is entirely up to you. As if to make it more of a fair fight, there are weapons hidden off the road - stumble into a ditch and you might find a rifle or a sword. The Hounds have very sharp teeth but they themselves cannot be injured - if struck they simply turn to black smoke and vanish. The Horseman cannot be killed - he has no head! - but if you fight him to a standstill he will reward you with the gift of something from your homeworld. This can be a weapon or magical item.

If you manage to cross a stream or a river, the spectres will vanish with howling and laughter.

ODDS BODKINS

You're likely to be shaken up after your encounter, so it's relief when you see that there's a bonfire lit not far past the water you've crossed. Perched all around it are a bunch of different owls, many wearing hats. They all swivel their heads to look at you before they hoot and gesture for you to come near. There, set up to one side of the bonfire, is a long low table laden with drinks in many different colours and little cakes and cookies. You always thought owls ate mice, but whooo's to say? Hoo? Get it? On another low table are supplies for patching people up in case your fight with the Horseman got a little intense! The owls don't have hands, but maybe there's a kind stranger nearby who'd be willing to help you? Or maybe you just want to talk to someone who has their head on right!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Kaeya looks up from pulling the cork out of the bottle the festive looking owls had helpfully let him have. He spits it out and takes a swig straight from the bottle.

He doesn’t look great but seems unbothered by the gashes on his arms and side.] Oh, you know how it is. Something chases you. You get away but they still get a hit in.

There’s another bottle if you want a drink.

( there's a quick glance between the motion of opening a bottle with their bare teeth and the considerable wounds littering the young man's side. he thinks it's admirable that he's putting on a strong front.

but unnecessary. )

No, I'm afraid I do not. I try not to make a habit of getting chased by things.

( actually, he doesn't make a habit of running at all. )

It can be troublesome for one's heart.

( among other things. )

Is this a regular occurance for you?

No. Even back home, I make it a point not to be careless. [Walking alone on a dark road and turning to face the darkness is careless. Wolf ears and a tail pop into existence. They’re dark blue with a pattern of pale white stars. He tucks his tail around his side.

Kaeya focuses on the stranger as he reaches for the other bottle. Now he isn’t hiding his familiar traits his teeth are a bit sharper. No bothering to hide the wolf anymore. The cork is out in one tug. He holds the bottle out.] How did you get away from them? They are patrolling that road.

( there is a considerable pause as aziraphale glances over the new appendages that had suddenly materialised on the young man. he almost addresses it, but thinks better of it. he didn't want to run the risk of being impolite.

and he'd certainly seen stranger tonight alone.)

I believe I got lucky. I don't imagine any of them noticed me.

( which he hopes doesn't sound too improbable. that'd be a touch awkward.

he accepts the bottle easily, pinching his fingers around its neck. )

Would you like to use this on your wounds?

[He chuckles. The owls with their hats slide two mugs over.] Archons no.

We both got away from danger. More fun to celebrate that with someone else. [He reaches into his belt pouches and produces the bandages and small tools to tend to his injuries. There is a smoothness of practice about the actions. He winces. Damn, he never likes injuries on his arms.]

I will need a little help but don’t let it stop you from sampling owl wine.

( "archons"?

what a strange choice of words. he'd like to ask about it, but his attention is quickly drawn to the scene that's starting to play out ahead of him. it's admirable, the way he is trying to handle it. unnecessary, however. )

My, there's no need for a tough face.

( he interrupts before he can continue. with a gentle hand, he guides the young man to sit. )

Here, take a seat.

( then very suddenly, he's pushing a mug of owl wine into the man's good hand. how did aziraphale get a hold of that from where he's standing? don't worry about it. )

[Kaeya’s expression doesn’t change. The only sign he noticed the shift is a slight widening of his eye. He covers it by taking the mug and taking a swig. He pauses to work out the taste then takes another drink.]

Not bad, not bad. It has less of a bite than I like but, that’s alright.

[He turns his attention to his companion and studies him from behind his pleasant smile. How did he get the mug that fast?] So, if you don’t mind passing me the small bottle I took out. We can get started cleaning these wounds. Unless you have another idea in mind.

Well—

( it's more like aziraphale gets the feeling that this young man is mostly posturing. it makes it a little more difficult to gauge the severity of his wounds and he certainly had no business assisting with his own bandaging.

he pauses, considering his words. )

I don't mean to be so bold with you, but I believe that the patient should prioritise remaining still. Please, allow me.

( meaning: it's okay not to help. )

Rather, perhaps a proper introduction is in order?

( that's a more productive area for him to focus his energy. they could have a rousing conversation while aziraphale tends to his wounds. either that, or aziraphale will be forced to start recounting his days as a medic.

another pause. then, he adds on: )

Is it just your arm and your chest?

[His wolf ears fold back for a second, then right themselves. He's a bad patient, and he knows it. The nuns at the Church of Barbatos tend to give him looks whenever he's wounded. He knows when he's being unreasonable or demanding. He sighs and uses his good hand to remove his cloak. Without the cover, one can see the cut on his side is precise. His arms look like they got bitten. He unbuttons his shirt.]

Yes, and you're right. I'll behave myself now. I'm Kaeya, and like several here, I can change shape as I want. And hounds and a horse rider couldn't stop a horse, but they did do their damage to me.

September 2022 Test Drive Meme

Oddbodkins

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