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November 2022 Test Drive Meme
NOVEMBER 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.
You snap to awareness, ready perhaps to fight or flee, and find that you are… sitting on a couch. Huh.
Yes, you have fallen from the sky, Star Child, to wind up inside a cozy lodge There are several other couches dotting the spacious room, host largely to new arrivals like yourself. The lodge is rustic, built of wooden logs and stone, with a massive fireplace dominating one wall. Through an open archway just past the fireplace there is a mellowly lit bar serving free hot chocolate as well as spirits. The bar is tended by a tall, fluffy white creature with earmuffs on. Star Children from Earth might think it looks like a bigfoot or a yeti, but cute. The bartender speaks in a soft, low voice and can direct you to the other half of the lodge, where you can borrow winter clothes and outdoor equipment.
What sort of equipment? Skis, of course! And snowboards, and snowshoes too!
Step outside the lodge and you will discover that you are at the base of one of the mountains in Wintermute. It rises majestically, the very tip lost amongst white clouds. The snow is a perfect powder, ideal for beginners and experts alike.
There is a wooden sign near the rental area pointing the way to the Bunny Hill.
The ski hill is manned entirely by rabbits. They are mostly white and grey, but you can spot them against the snow because they are all wearing little winter coats. They will help get you into your skis or on your board or what-have-you, and they will be your silent instructors. If you don’t want to downhill ski and would rather snowshoe around, one of the bunnies will guide you to safe paths. No matter what you’re doing, the rabbits insist on pairing you with another Star Child. Bunnies believe in the buddy system! Might be a good time to get to know someone else. In fact, you’ll notice that the more you talk to someone else, the more your winter sports skills improve, and the happier you will feel.
If you go off course, whether on ski or board or shoe, having a buddy makes it far more likely that you can find your way back to the lodge safely!
Content Warnings: Monster fighting, optional violence.
ADDRESSED TO THE FIRE
WILDEST WINTER
ADDRESSED TO THE FIRE
Among the snow laden pines, all is not still. There is a soft chiming noise you may be able to hear, and amongst the tree branches move hundreds of tiny blue forms. These humanoid figures are no more than three inches tall, sparkling like fresh fallen snow. Wherever their feet touch frost forms, and they flit and dance overhead joyfully, occasionally causing snow to dislodge from the branches and fall to the ground below. You may be hit with a light shower of the stuff if you happen to be below, which is all in great fun… but you best be careful where you step, as a heavy load of snow can hurt you quite badly.
These little ice spirits seem friendly enough, flying down to inspect you. You might not even notice that they are herding you further into the evergreen forest, away from the sun and into the shadows. If you do notice and try to resist, they will dart lightly across any exposed skin, causing sharp stabs of cold. If they do this enough, there is a real danger of frostbite. The spirits don’t die if you squish them - they just puff into a cloud of snow, and there are so many of them that it’s unlikely you could hurt enough of them to escape.
The ice spirits lead you to a clearing before they abruptly vanish - they have done a wonderful job of disorienting you, and their icy feet have filled up your footprints so you cannot follow your own trail back. Here, it is quite dark, and trying to find your way back is nigh impossible. In the center of the clearing is a small pile of wood and kindling, just waiting for a spark. There is a a small metal box next to this and inside is a pack of matches and a note reading:
The heart, like fire, must be fed to stay alight.
Memories held dear burn brightest of all.
You will find that you can light the fire very easily, but keeping it from going out is a challenge! It keeps guttering and threatening to plunge you into the cold darkness. That is, unless you take a cue from the note and share some things about yourself with your companion. The more you share, or the more private the story, the more strongly the fire will burn. It never requires more wood - if you have a good conversation with someone it will last til morning quite easily, and keep you warm the whole time.
Once morning does arrive, you will find that somehow another box has appeared, set just to the side of the clearing. This one is a proper wooden chest, and inside you will discover some canon item from your homeworld - this can include magical objects or weapons.
A racoon in a red and yellow sweater will waddle into the clearing once you have discovered your prize and escort you safely out of the evergreen forest.
WILDEST WINTER
Okay, but maybe you hate sharing time. Maybe you’d rather take your chances with the dark woods. It’s possible to create a torch with the supplies in the clearing, or maybe you have other ways of lighting your way. Heck, maybe you just have halfway decent night vision!
As you make your way through the woods, you might notice that there are weapons half covered by snow lying about. These are all normal, unenchanted weapons - knives, swords, guns. Sweet, free swag!
But be warned: the moment you touch any of these weapons you will hear the howling of a blizzard wind. The air will turn colder still, and then out of the darkness will stalk a monstrous being roughly the size and shape of a polar bear, but haphazardly covered in ice-like spikes. These ice crystals are deadly sharp and incredibly hard, so you’ll have to aim carefully between them to pierce the monster’s flesh. It is possible to melt them if you have the means to generate enough heat.
The creature is every bit as fast and strong as a polar bear, so you really don’t want to let it catch you! Teamwork is probably your best option to fight it - running might not be your best option in this case, although the bear might be too big to be able to climb a tree with much success. Maybe. Possibly. You sure you want to risk it?
If you defeat the ice bear, it will melt away to nothing, leaving in its place a heart-shaped box. Inside you will find a canon item. If you manage to make it to morning without killing the creature, you will escape with your life and whatever unenchanted weapon you picked up.
The sweatered racoon will appear at dawn to guide you back to the ski lodge.
dlfjdkgl he hopes!! it's his whole motivation 🙏 beat aegon forever lmfao
It surprised him further when she expressed gratitude and even offered a boon for his services. "I hardly need make a wish but for your health and safety," Aemond said matter-of-factly, still every bit a prince despite being sprawled out on the ground. What good was he if he couldn't offer his own life to protect the queen? It was the duty of all, and he despised those who would turn away from that.
Of course, she wasn't his queen. Not exactly. Even if her voice stirred something in him, a familiarity in the way her hair was styled, and the deep green of her dress like silks from his mother's chambers. Could she be ...? No, that was impossible. Aemond firmly pushed the thought aside, dismissing it as a child's fantasy. Still, with her nearer to him, he couldn't help but study her intently, hope blooming somewhere deep in his chest.
"I'm—" He glanced down at his forearm, surprised to find it sticky with drying blood. "Hm." Pushing to his feet gingerly, he offered the young woman a stiff bow—not for lack of respect, but because he was a bit more light-headed than he would've liked. "Lead the way," Aemond said, grateful for the fact that she seemed to know how to navigate this strange place. That she was fussing over him was a nice side benefit, but he wouldn't admit to that.
They walked in silence for a moment or two before Aemond worked up the courage to say, "You don't frighten easily." It was as much a compliment as he was capable of when he didn't know someone well, though try as he might, he couldn't stop the blush from rising to his face. Ugh.
he already does! and she's going to be a mixture of so confused and so pleased when she finds out!
She knew the value of such a rescue, one that most men even where she was from would cringe away from, given that the creature to be faced was like nothing at all found in Westeros, unless it were a peculiar creature from the North. But Alicent had never been to the North and never wanted to go, if the rumors she'd heard of it were true. But his words make her smile gratefully. "If only all others were thus concerned. I fear that this place may be one where I'll have to make my own luck."
And she couldn't not notice the Targaryen silver hair. Unless he was from a world where such features weren't unusual. She'd yet to meet even a portion of those to be found here, it was entirely possible he was from a world where everyone had silver hair. And she was in green, would never wear any other color but green for the rest of her life.
Upon following his gaze, she gasped and walked in a few steps closer. His bow was unexpected, given that they were in such a strange place, but she curtsied in response. "There's a man I've met here already, Ser Hawke. He says he has some healing magic, let's see if we can find him. The last I saw him was at the bonfire, that was...this way, I think. May I...take your other arm so you can lean on me, should you need to?"
And a smile. "I used to. I won't let myself be such anymore. Too much depends on me and my choices in the time ahead, both at home and here. But allow me to introduce myself. I am Queen Alicent Hightower. And your name, kind ser?"
💚💚💚
Not that he wanted to think about the king, may the Gods deny his soul every comfort in death. Aemond preferred to concern himself with the strange woman at his side, who he thought might be studying him as closely as he was trying to sneak glances at her. But he couldn't be sure. She was difficult to read, a quiet but fierce intelligence about her, something she confirmed with all she seemed to notice already. "I'm alright, I promise," Aemond said, feeling color rise to his face again. He didn't know why he was so embarrassed, but it prickled over him, a feeling he couldn't seem to shake. Still, he offered his arm without complaint. It was nice to be fussed over, loathe as he was to admit that.
Except Aemond was immediately brought up short at the mention of her name. "Mother?" He blurted out, hating how small he sounded, how uncertain, but he was struggling to reconcile the image he had of her with the stranger standing before him now. She couldn't have been much younger than him. How was that even possible?
"I don't understand," he continued quietly, feeling so utterly lost. "I'm—" Aemond stopped himself, trying to scrape together some semblance of his earlier calm and poise. He exhaled hard, gathering himself, hoping he was projecting some of that confidence. "It's Aemond, Your Grace. Third child and second son. I imagine this must be a lot to take in," because he was nothing if not always concerned with her well-being, whatever her age, "Please don't feel obligated to treat me any differently. I can remain simply in your service—as all should be." He was quietly desperate for her to agree to that much, but he'd die before pressuring his mother to do anything.
💚💚💚! One for Alicent, Helaena, and Aemond. AND NONE FOR AEGON, BYE!
As for her lord husband, Alicent had done her duty, gave him three healthy children. After that, he'd go to hold her hand occasionally or kiss her on the cheek, but if there was any sort of love there, it was the love of a girl for her patron. Nothing more. And she was studying her companion, wondering at why he seemed so foreign and so familiar at the same time. The hair, the coloring, those were both Targaryen. She'd swear to it. But from when? Before the Doom? After?
But she gladly took her companion's arm, pleased to be of aid in some small way.
And when he stopped so quickly, called her his mother, she nearly froze in shock, turning to face him as her eyes scanned his features. Targaryen hair and coloring, yes, but did the shape of his remaining eye resemble the ones she stared at every time she looking in a mirror? Was his jawline her own, his cheekbones. Surely, surely this couldn't be little Aemond, brought to her a man by the fox and her magic...could it?
Alicent reached up with her free hand to trace his features cup his face. Rage inwardly at whomever was behind the loss of his eye. There was no reason for a trick, if he stated that he was her son, she believed. It explained everything and not enough both at the same time. "My...Aemond? My son," she asked in a shaking voice.
"Nor I," she whispered, her dark eyes wide. He seemed as surprised as she felt and likely looked. "Can it be you? You, my little boy but a man grown? How is this possible? What," she had to take a moment to calm her shaking breath, "what did the fox promise to you? And who, who took your eye?"
And her tracing of his features softened into a mother's tenderness. "You are my son. I see no reason to lie about that, unless each is tricking the other, that the fox lied to both of us. But she did not seem a liar and I can see bits of myself in your features, now that I know to look." And Alicent smiled brilliantly. "How can I treat you as anything other than my beloved son? This will be tricky to explain to others, but surely in such a strange place, strange quirks also follow. We can't be the strangest, surely."
And, softly, hesitantly Alicent asked, "May I embrace you for a moment?"
poor aegon 😂 you won't hear aemond complaining sjjcnkd
But maybe he wouldn't have to. If this was his mother (Gods, she was young, so young), that meant he wasn't trapped here by himself. It also meant there was far more to be worried about than simply finding his way in a strange place. He couldn't let anything happen to her.
Still, Aemond was surprised when Alicent reached out to touch his face. He held very still, feeling as though he were back at that fateful night years ago, that stricken look on his mother's face so similar to the one burned into his memory. "Yes," was all he managed in response, voice rough with emotions he couldn't name. Don't mourn me, mother. How easy those words came to him then. They didn't now, but they would need to.
It was ironic her two questions would be related. "I think," Aemond said at length, choosing his words carefully, "We should find the bonfire you mentioned first." He wasn't proud of not being direct, but he also felt like he needed time to gather his wits. How much could he say? Would it only serve to bring her pain? What was his place now, with the two of them so close in age? It made Aemond feel wrong-footed and uncertain, and he hated that.
Distantly, he realized her hands felt different on his skin—like scales—but he didn't dare look or ask about it. They were both changed, and quite frankly, he didn't care. She would always be his mother, a pillar of strength and wisdom, someone he'd always admired and strived to emulate. Nothing would change that.
It was all the more difficult, then, to hear her welcome him so easily into her heart. Despite himself, Aemond blinked away tears, struggling not to cry openly. You are my son. "I don't care what anyone thinks of us," he murmured, voice low but fierce. "The only opinion that has ever mattered to me is yours." He was mindful of the eyes at court, of what whispers could do to great houses, but having this—having her here—was most important to Aemond. He would tear the world apart if his mother asked it of him.
Perhaps it was too forward of him, but he couldn't help it. When she asked to embrace him, Aemond's last shred of willpower crumbled, and he wrapped his arms around Alicent to pull her in close. He might have even sighed quietly, but hoped it wasn't too obvious. As strange and confusing as all this was, he felt such profound relief. They were here together. They could face anything.
::firmly places a 'World's Best Son' medal around Aemond's neck::
And Alicent couldn't help but be intimidated by the sheer amount of strange she'd already been subjected to, but she'd made friends with Ser Hawke. And she'd been reunited with her son. Perhaps this wasn't such a terrible place after all? Perhaps she could thrive here, even without her father's presence?
She could feel a bit of tension, so she gentled her touch further. Despite his Targaryen coloring, none could see him and acknowledge him as anyone other than her son. She lightly traced over his cheekbone, beneath the patch. She felt a fierce protectiveness swell inside of her. Whomever it was who took her son's eye would answer to her.
And she'd be grateful for his discretion. she had no idea why she had dragon scales for arms, really, she wasn't a blood Targaryen. She felt that her strange arms were both a humiliation and a way to keep her from fussing with her fingernails and cuticles so much.
Alicent had yet to figure out that they marked her as one of the bad ones.
But she couldn't not stare at him. He was living proof that it was all worth it in the end, even her rift with Rhae--her stepdaughter. And she was holding back tears as well, she'd been weak and flimsy, saying good-bye to her father so weakly. And her father's words echoed in her mind, that her stepdaughter would put her children to the sword to avoid a succession crisis. Only when her own body was cold in its grave.. But, "I will work to earn your esteem. I swear it."
And she held her son as close as she could, giving way to the tears which wanted to spill. Her son. He was brave, strong, caring, right. He was proof that all she'd undergone was how it was meant to be. So she squeezed him harder. "I'm so proud of you, my son."