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Entry tags:
September 2022 Test Drive Meme
SEPTEMBER 2022 TDM
INTRODUCTION
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.
Content Warnings: mood-altering substances.
What a Wonderful Harvest
"TRICK."
"TREAT."
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.
Content Warnings: aggressive dogs, decapitated spectres, potential violence.
GET AHEAD
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!
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[ Ash has never led the way into anything. But after a long moment of standing around, it becomes abundantly clear that Orym is waiting for him to take the first steps. So... He does. He pauses after a few strides to make sure Orym is following him, checking over his shoulder and waiting for the smaller man to catch up. ]
Do you really not know GPS? Global Positioning System? It's, ah. [ He gestures vaguely skyward, before returning his hand to hang at his side again. ] There's satellites in the atmosphere that can pinpoint your location.
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[He's following, and keeping in step. He's spent most of his life around non-halflings, to he keeps pace well, without looking like it's any effort.]
None of that makes any more sense. [He offers a smile and a shrug.] Is that magic? Or more, ah, mechanical?
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[ It is good to meet him. It's good to meet anyone, really, after having been mostly alone for so long, but Orym's been nice so far. ]
No, they're real. [ Because magic = not real. ] The project was developed by the US military, and launched back in the nineties.
[ He may or may not be drawing from a quick search, rather than any personal knowledge. ]
no subject
Huh.
[And since he can't really demonstrate machines very well, but he sure can do a quick bit of basic magic, he holds up a hand and a small blue flower slowly sprouts to life, and he offers it out to Ash. Present.] But... magic is real. And machinery's definitely real. One of my good friends is an automaton.
no subject
Wait...
[ He reaches out with a tentative hand, almost as if he's expecting the flower to be some sort of hologram that his fingers will pass right through, but when they don't, he isn't quite sure how to react. ]
How'd you manage that?
[ He looks around, as though Orym might've plucked the flower from the field they're walking through, and he only thought he saw it grow from nothing. But no. The field is just corn, as far as the eye can see.
Does not compute. ]
no subject
Like I said, magic.
[A shrug of his shoulders.] I'm not much of a mage though. I'm better with a sword.
[But he knows a couple basic spells, mostly that his sisters-in-law taught him.]
So all of the stuff you were talking about sounds like... gibberish. And you've never seen real magic. I think we may be from different realms.
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...Magic? Real magic?
[ He has a feeling he'll just be spinning in circles if he tries to understand any of what's happening. That odd fox, waking up in an unfamiliar field, the lack of connection to the cloud, no GPS, flowers from nowhere.
He squints his eyes shut, tries to mentally reset. It looks as though he's concentrating on something rather unpleasant, until he finally opens his eyes again, expression back to neutral-pleasant. He offers Orym a self-deprecating smile. ]
Given I don't know what you mean when you say "realm," I think you may be right.
[ The moment of confusion, of CPUs running in overdrive trying to keep up with the impossible, has completely passed. Ash has filed all the things that don't make sense into a folder marked ???? that he'll come back to later. For now, he keeps walking at a leisurely pace towards the sound of music, carrying on conversation as if he'd never come to a screeching halt. ]
What was that you said, about your friend being an AI? —an automaton?
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[He remembers that they were in combat when he fell, and for a moment goes quiet just hoping that the rest of his friends are still okay. So they both have a bit of a moment of pause before rallying.]
Realm. Like a world, or a plane of existence.
[His attention is caught by the next question though, and he nods.] FCG, yeah. He's an automaton, but not like any other automatons that I've met. He's a person, you know? Not just a machine. He acts on his own and has things he wants and people he cares about. And people who care about him.
no subject
[ Maybe that would explain the differences in appearance. Maybe Orym's alien species is shorter, with pointier ears.
Certain files are able to be moved out of the folder labeled ???? and into one labeled PENDING. ]
Sounds nice. I'm almost jealous. [ He says it jokingly, but winces after. ] No, sorry. That was rude of me. I'm sure Emily cares about me.
[ He knows Martha doesn't. Which stings, it'll always sting. But he thinks Emily might, if only as something like an imaginary friend instead of a dad. ]
no subject
[And they're both speaking common, but maybe there's magic to blame for that.
He looks up at Ash in full curiosity now. Jealous? He's not sure what to make of that until he says the second half.]
Are you an automaton? [Because, no offense at all to FCG, but if so that's a whole different level of impressive.]
no subject
Ash makes a little 'ta-da!!' motion with his hands, grinning. ]
Bit of an old word for it, but yeah.
no subject
[He is absolutely certain of it. Orym can't help the start of a grin at the jazz-hands. Okay, so this guy is from another planet, and is an automaton-- no wait.]
What's the right word for it? [He'll try to be polite about this.]
no subject
The generally accepted term is android. But it doesn't really matter to me. You can just call me Ash.
no subject
[That is the simplest path, but Orym will at least tuck the word android away to remember.]
I'm a halfling, if they don't have those where you're from. [And halfling? Well that's exactly what it says on the tin.]
no subject
[ Because that's a special trait that's specific to halflings, right? That's what Ash is assuming. ]
no subject
[That's strange. Orym isn't the most magically inclined, but he's definitely used to there being magic around. It's a strange thing, thinking of a world without it.]
Not every halfling can do magic. Same with most of the other peoples too.
no subject
No, not exactly. There's stage magic, but that's just a trick. Sleight of hand, cold reading, illusions, that sort of thing. No... [ He lifts the hand still holding Orym's flower, twirling it in his fingers. ] ...Nothing like this.
no subject
[A pause and he concedes,] Though from your perspective, I guess magic being a thing is the strange thing.
[And that brings up another question.] I wonder which one is normal for here.
no subject
[ As they continue to walk, the source of the music starts to come into view. A celebration of some kind, with people dancing around a tall, pumpkin headed figure. ]
no subject
[Talking foxes are new for him. He's not a druid. His step slows as the dancers come into view and the large pumpkin figure centerpiece.]
...that's different.
[He looks up at Ash.] Harvest festival, you think?
no subject
Maybe. Seems to be the right time of year.
[ He's never seen or been to a harvest festival before. There may have been such festivals in the country near Martha's house, but she never brought him, and Ash had never posted online about going to any, when he was alive.
He looks around, in every other direction. There don't seem to be any other signs of life nearby. ]
May as well see what it's about...
no subject
[Not what he'd been in when he left. Then again, he'd been far from the seasons he was used to anyway, given his travels in Marquet lately.
A nod of agreement.]
Maybe we can get some questions answered. Let's just hope the locals are friendly.
no subject
[ At first, he'd thought maybe he was in the southern hemisphere, but now he realizes he must be even further away. ]
Why, do you think they might not be friendly?
[ He doesn't have any experience with strangers, really. It's beginning to occur to him that he may have lucked out, meeting Orym first. ]
no subject
[Who's to say if seasons or time even move the same. He knows time is a tricky thing in the Feywild, so who knows in another realm. His head is swimming, but he's doing the best he can not to let it get to him.]
Well, we're a couple strangers wandering out of a cornfield with no idea where we are. That might come off a little suspicious. But they do look like they're in good moods to start with. Maybe that'll work in our favor.
no subject
I don't see any weapons. —Well, some of them have knives, but I'm pretty sure they're just for carving pumpkins.
[ That's promising, at least. ]
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