September 2022 Test Drive Meme

[folkie]

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!

Comments

treat's a trick

[dreamsofwings]

Eren isn't even sure how he got dragged here. Whoever he came with bounced off somewhere, leaving Eren out of place. Parties aren't his thing, after all. He doesn't really understand them. Sure, he gets celebrations after victories or whatever, but…well, it's been ages since he had anything worth celebrating. The last time there was anything close was the last night he was with the 104th before he ran off behind Marleyan enemy lines, and even then, he hadn't been celebrating.

But as weird as that first trip across the sea had been, it has nothing on this pumpkin business. He'd be tempted to titan up and fight that big guy if he wasn't obviously meant to be here. The Pumpkin King doesn't seen to be harming anyone, not like some of the monsters here have been known to do, so he shoves his wariness down and drinks some cider.

He watches the trick or treat thing a couple of times, completely mystified by it. Is this normal? A lot of people, people from other worlds even, don't seem that weirded out by it other than that, you know, giant pumpkin creature. But he's nearby Baphomet, who also has a pumpkin head thing going on for whatever reason, when he says "treat."

Baphomet turns to Eren, and Eren just sort of stares.

"You don’t seem to be very happy about that thing," he says, motioning to the figurine.

[punderworldgod]

Baphomet's smile, obscured by pumpkin and flame, flickers and fades. The Pumpkin king turns his attention elsewhere, leaving him alone with the person standing next to him. He's not even sure off hand the last time he saw this figure. He never used it for tabletop despite his plans. Everything turned upside down again and again and again without ever getting right side up.

"I was painting this," Baphomet says, the wounds that never fully healed only scabbed over ache and threaten to split, "when I got the call." He looks down, impressed that something so small contains so much hurt. "My parents died, suddenly. Just like that"—he snaps his fingers—"they were gone." In the end, it'll get him too. His pain and grief lashing out at Marian, and her grief sentencing him to death. Eight months and counting.

[dreamsofwings]

Eren watches Baphomet, unsure how to decipher the expression he can't exactly see anyway. Isn't "treat" supposed to be something good? Sounds like the pumpkin thing misheard him, or maybe is just mean. He's not sure. This place is weird.

"My parents are dead too," he says, slowly. Is it commiseration? He's not really sure. He has no idea what this guy is really talking about, but then, talking to Eren is probably like that too. He leaves out context half the time because he's Eren.

"You should tell that pumpkin to give you something better instead of something sad."

[punderworldgod]

One hand rests heavily on Eren's shoulder after the pronouncement. His head might still be rolling around the pumpkin on his shoulders, but Baphomet loved his parents, so hearing that from someone else... he's got at least an ounce of empathy. He remembers what Laura asked of him, what he could do, but none of it was real. There's no point. Not right now.

"Life sucks, then you die," Baphomet mutters. "So suck well." He winks, but his tone is harder, edgier, than he means it to be. Everything still cutting a little too close to home.

"You're right," he agrees. It's what he expected, a trick for a treat. It's dumb af to call out a god at his own event. Baphomet's done it before. He swaggers closer to the people getting tricks or treats. "Hey Gourdo," Baphomet shouts, "Still waiting on my treat."

The large head slowly turns after it completes a round of trick or treat with someone. They chose trick and drank some glass of cider. Four glasses remain on the tray. The god nods, and the person with the tray shuffles quickly toward them.

"Hah!" Baphomet huffs. Trick or treat round II. Without hesitation, he grabs one of the ciders and quaffs it all back. It doesn't make him fall over and die, so the worst is over with. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asks the guy whose idea this was.

[dreamsofwings]

Eren isn't used to people with Baphomet's sense of humour, really. Most people don't have much of one where he comes from, and Eren himself isn't much exception. When was the last time he even laughed at something? He can't remember. Nothing in Folkmore has been particularly funny, but even if it was, he's so removed from regular emotion that it makes things…challenging.

So Baphomet is surprising to him, but funny? Not really.

He's surprised that the pumpkin god doesn't do something like attack them, but then he's just always on alert for things like that. He doesn't trust that giant weird pumpkin at all, but it hasn't seemed to outright hurt anyone, so it could be worse.

He knows better than to trust any of these drinks, too, but what the hell. They probably won't die. Eren's not even sure he could be poisoned. Well, he probably could, but he's not sure it could kill him. He'd rather not find out, but he takes a cider anyway.

"Pretty sure these are free," he says, "but I'll drink it anyway."

He's not as enthusiastic chugging the cider as Baphomet is, but he's not hesitant.

[punderworldgod]

Baphomet takes the two remaining glasses, one per hand, and gives the serving veggie person a small bow. Even if he has them both himself, someone will get that 'trick.' It's his last Halloween season. Baphomet's taking as much of it in as he can. Always been one of his favorites. The time of the year everyone else admitted what he already knew; they all want to be something else. Another person. Another version of themselves. Live a little longer.

"Bought with my boldness," Baphomet says. He's not in as much of a rush this time, though he offers one to Eren to see if the guy would like another.

He looks around the party, where already Baphomet has managed both to be himself and someone else in the same pumpkin head. "If you could snap your fingers and be someone else for a night, who would you be?" Baphomet asks.