folkooc | April 2023 Test Drive Meme

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April 2023 Test Drive Meme

April 2023 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]

worms. ★

Content Warnings: hallucinations, poison, giant worm

One minute you were a falling star, but as your body reforms you become aware of one important detail: it's friggin hot.

That's because you've landed in a desert! Yes, you have had the misfortune of landing in Cruel Summer, the hottest and arguably most dangerous part of Folkmore. Lucky you!

The first bit of good news is that you're pretty sure you can see a train station off in the distance, although it's extremely difficult to judge exactly how far off due to the flatness of the terrain. The second bit of good news is that you have awoken with either a canteen of water, or an umbrella to keep the sun off. The third bit of news - good or bad, depending - is that you've awoken near another Star Child. Whoever this is will have the opposite gift than what you received; if you have water, they have an umbrella, and if you have an umbrella they have water. Well, you know what they say: sharing is caring! Undeniably the water is a touch more important, so hopefully whoever has it isn't a colossal dick.

As you trek through the desert towards the distant structure, you will notice periodically the air off to either side of you will shimmer. You may dismiss it as merely the heat playing tricks, but if you choose to investigate you will find mundane weapons like swords, guns, shields, etc.

At some point as you walk, you will feel a tremor beneath your feet. It grows in intensity until suddenly the sand sprays everywhere as something bursts forth from the earth below!

Wavering above you is a blood red worm. It is large - end to end it runs about thirteen feet - and its segmented hide is tough enough that rocks bounce right off of it. You might have more luck with bullets or bladed edges, but it's still going to be a tough fight. It also boasts some impressive offensive tricks; its mouth is ringed with many rows of fangs, and itspits a thick yellow acid that will corrode your skin and your weapons if you're not careful. If that wasn't enough, during your fight you might here a sudden brrrrrrrrrapppp! as the creature farts lightning at you. Hilarious... until it knocks you to the ground.

You would do well to work as a team to take this monster down. You and your partner might have powers or skills that could come in handy, or maybe you're quick on the uptake when it comes to any new abilities afforded you by your new role!

If you defeat the worm in battle, a golden chest will appear. Inside of it are items from your homeworlds - these rewards are especially likely to be any weapons you owned back home.

But hey, maybe you're a lover, not a fighter. There's no judgement here in Folkmore. You can outrun the worm instead if you're both fast and clever - finding any terrain that is more rock than sand will give you a decided advantage.

Once you have either defeated or escaped the worm, you will find that you come upon a small group of tents. Under their shade are first aid supplies, and kiosks manned by fennec foxes offering water, food, and shaved ice. Nice!

so scarlet it was. ★

Content Warnings: emotional trauma, impalement

Giant death worms aren't the only danger in the desert, they're just the most obvious.

Even if you avoided the worms entirely, you still have to make it to one of the train stations in Cruel Summer. As you trek across the dunes you will gradually become aware that over the sound of wind and shifting sand you can hear someone singing. You feel an urge to follow the sound to its source.

This song could be anything - one that exists in your world or others, or just a melody spun in the air for the first time. Whatever it is, it is heart rending; tears may spring your eyes as you follow the sound, precious moisture falling to the thirsty desert ground.

The singing is coming from a cactus. It is taller than most humanoid creatures, tinted purple and pink at the tips, with abnormally long spines. Its song reminds you sharply of some deep loss from your past, and at the same time inspires a terrible compulsion to go to the cactus and sink against it.

And what a relief it is, to embrace that melody and feel the spines slide easily through your flesh to pierce your heart. You do not bleed. By some strange alchemy, your heartache drains from your body as liquid, filling the cactus and causing its flowers to bloom and its song to cease.

You could very well stay pinned there, dying a slow death of desiccation, but lucky for you Star Children are all over the place this time of the month and someone is bound to see that you need help.

Trying to pry someone off of the cactus is impossible. The key lies in the flowers - they must be removed. When they are, sweet liquid will spray from the place where it had grown, dousing the rescuing Star Child. With this impromptu shower comes psychic flashes of the painful memory that has trapped the victim.

Once all of the blooming flowers have been removed, the cactus will retract its spines and release its prisoner. There will be no physical wounds left from this encounter.

You will also discover nearby that there is now a golden chest. Inside of it are items from your homeworlds, although none of these items are weapons.

Thankfully, you should be able to reach either Oozlum or Obambo Station without further incident. At either of these you will be able to get some water and supplies, as well as get the hell out of Cruel Summer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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Zechs wasn't entirely certain this wasn't a dream. Having a fox, as in a children's tale, speak of him of epic heroes and villains was a surreal experience. It made him, far from his first time, question his sanity - but his breaks from reason rarely involved something so ... whimsical.

To him, there's no question what role he'd take if anything the fox said was true. And, indeed, a crest of small red horns began to poke through the blond hair framing his face. That was the role he'd given himself - no fantastic magic required. He'd made the choice to be the devil everyone would hate.

And, he's certain the self that went on in the future would do the same. Eventually, Zechs would take one last fall to ensure the peace of his world.

What was he doing here?

Oh, Worm?

Goddamn it was hot. Zechs immediately stripped out of the jumpsuit he'd been wearing at the Martian colony, to the drab worker's uniform beneath. It's still inadequate, but with someone next to him and all the blasted sand, he wasn't about to go around nude. Sweat made the hair at the back of his neck stick unpleasantly. What was that fox playing at? If it wasn't for the canteen of water he carried for the sake of the stranger beside him - it'd be tempting to simply lay down and see if death was possible.

He wasn't really here, after all. Maybe his companion would try to start a conversation even with Zechs' scowl.

Yet when the massive worm arose from the sand, great maw filled with dagger-like teeth - Zechs didn't hesitate. His sharp eyes spotted a sword in the sand, which he rolled to collect. The canteen would be forgotten in the dunes for now - Zechs would fight to protect the individual he'd barely spoken to.

However, after, he would finally address them in a quiet, calm voice. "Are you all right?"

Scarlet
Our towns were shaken of tall kings with scarlet beards like blood

Zechs curled against the cactus, oblivious to anyone who might want to help, pierced throughout by the long, terrible spines. It'd be a lie, however, to say he felt no pain. He didn't deserve what he saw, he felt; it must surely be an illusion. Far too good to be true.

And yet, he couldn't let it go.

Surely they didn't even look like this, when they were alive. His father couldn't have been taller than him as an adult, his beard likely less vibrant and full. His mother, certainly was a smaller woman in life. Both of them would be touched by the many years since, their hair in this illusion without gray. But most of all - if they were alive - they wouldn't accept him as he is now. They would not embrace him thus.

And yet, he couldn't let go.

His heart had never been rid successfully of this gentleness, that would yearn for his parents' embrace. Whoever tried to wake him, yanking off each memory blossom by blossom, would discover just why he knew this would never be even as he held on tightly.

(( ooc: Zechs one year after the events of Endless Waltz, two years after the regular TV show. He was on Mars but I am assuming Frozen Teardrop is a thing that will never happen to him. Poke at me on plurk if you prefer a wildcard prompt or if you have any questions! ))

"Nope," Gideon declares at the person impaled on sharp spines of a plant construct in Cruel Summer. "Nope nope noppity nope. Not again. Not fucking again."

She closes her eyes and sees Jeanne-Mary in the room that should have been safe but wasn't. Her breathing goes unsteady, but Gideon opens her eyes and shoves that aside to get a grip under the guy's shoulders. Her tail, armored, reaches around his waist without getting impaled. Gideon digs her feet into the sand, and she pulls. She pulls and pulls and pulls, and finally in a move of desperation, she gets her feet up on her tail, on either side of him, and leans all of her body weight backward.

Other than looking like a cartoon character, nothing.

Slowly, Gideon disentangles herself and circles the cactus. She takes out her two handed sword and tries hacking it down. It does nothing. Next up, the rapier. She tries poking holes in the cactus, just... because. Nothing. The young woman stares up at the sky and sighs. "Really?"

Not strength then. It's some Thirteen special. The main thing that stands out are the flowers. Gideon plucks one off, and something spurts out. It mostly hits the dude, but some of it lands on her. That'd be fine. Cool her off. Except with it come an image of two adults, parents she can feel it, his parents, not... loving him as they should.

Now she really wants to take it out on the cactus, as the stand in for them. Gideon plucks the flowers off as fast as she can, getting angrier and angrier with the memory and emotion as it washes over her all too familiar. When the last one's gone, and he finally starts coming off the cactus, Gideon catches him and brings him down. The desert isn't exactly a good place to linger, but he probably needs a moment.

"Hey, you're not fucking dead," Gideon greets him.

It’s not that simple.

The flowers brought out bloody memories - a sense of being very, very young, watching through a doorway while adults were talking. Of generals threatening his parents, words of honor and not compromising principles answered with dual shots from a gun. Fire. Blood, seeing people slain, knowing that he wasn’t safe. A sensation of utter helplessness. Finding his infant sister, not yet killed like the other children he’d seen in the halls. Running, holding her, being too small to truly defend himself - relief when he found a loyal servant.

Outrage to find the sister he saved had to be separated from him. He’s not safe around her. It’s safer if they’re apart.

You’re too recognizable.

Hide your face. Choose a new name. Wait. Wait among the people who killed the ones he loved. Knowing his path to vengeance - was the very compromise in principles that his parents were killed for to begin with. He had to kill everyone who was responsible - he’d never be forgiven for it.

And a looming sense, as Gideon pulled of the last blossom, that there was more he knew he’d never atone for.

Zechs lay there, eyes glassy and unseeing, as the veil of illusion lifted from his eyes. There’s some - soldier? - above him. He couldn’t really make out her features. It’s the way she held herself, and her sword. Soldier. Warrior.

It somehow made him feel less out of place.

“Wonderful,” Zechs responded to being not dead, full of wry sarcasm. Slowly, he sat up, and tried to shake the sand out of his ridiculously long hair. It showed the points of red horns that began to grow from the crown of his head. Less bitter, he said, “Whatever drove you to free me - thank you. It’s unlikely I could’ve done so on my own.”

Saying so wasn’t exactly easy, but it was true.

Vengeance is hardly new. That's why she exists. Gideon really wants to ask about the sister. That's who she finds most relatable in the situation. What happened to her? Did he ever find her again? That's far better than asking how many people he's killed or how many more he plans to kill. Consider yourself enlisted in the Eleanor Shellstrop School for Personal Improvement.

"You're welcome," Gideon says. Jeanne-Mary. Isaac. "Lets just say I have a bad history with friends getting impaled excessively."

Only the once, personally.

She crouches beside him, tail sweeping the scabbards aside to avoid the desert sand. "Do you need medical attention? I'm not the right person for that, but I can help get you somewhere," she says. "It'd be really dumb to go through all that effort to get you off the cactus only to leave you to die in the sand. Plus, I'd be pissed if you wasted that effort by dying on me here. So be honest."

It’s as if Gideon knew people stubborn enough to ignore their own injuries, or people who would be so self-driven toward their own goals they wouldn’t pay attention to their own well being. Both sides of that coin fit Zechs. Still, pointing out the effort she’d gone through might have shamed him enough to be honest if there was anything wrong with him.

His expression was bewildered as he felt his chest - where he knew he’d embraced that cactus - and only felt tears within his uniform. The holes in the drab jumpsuit would give Gideon the glimpse of burn scars beneath.

“No. Somehow, I’ve been as miraculously healed as I’ve been abducted to this desert,” Zechs told her, looking at his fingers, clean as they encountered no wounds. “Unless I am truly insane, and you see me bleeding before you.”

He’s not going to rule out being crazy. Zechs now looked at Gideon properly. “I’m not certain if it’s more reassuring if I’m mad, or if I’m sane and these fantastical things have been actually happening.”

Gideon looks for any specks of blood on him, sees none, and checks out the plant construct. It's pulling an innocent act looking none the worse or more violent soaked for the efforts. Some sand around the base is wet, but that's evaporating into the air. It'll be ready to stab its next victim once they're gone.

"You're sane, and this shit has been happening," Gideon declares with confidence and ease. "Welcome to Folkmore. It's Thursday."

She holds out her her hand.

Accepting her hand up, though Zechs didn’t need the help, seemed like a way to thank her for her efforts. His grip was strong, his hands sporting many of the same callouses hers did, some that she lacked. After all, he never favored a large, two-handed sword when he did fight with old-fashioned weapons - and she’d not spent a career piloting mobile suits.

“This is a regular sort of occurrence as well, then,” Zechs said as he got to his feet. “Lovely.”

He gave her a considering look. It’s appraising, measuring her to some sort of martial standard - instead of giving her a once-over to admire her assets. “You’re a soldier, if I don’t misjudge you. That is a remarkable sword.”

Edited 2023-04-29 23:07 (UTC)

Gideon shrugs. It's not less of a big deal now, but she's learned how to roll with it. Thirteen and Gideon have made their peace more or less, at least when it matters most. It saved another Gideon's life. She doesn't forget that.

"Your world has its weird shit, so does mine," Gideon says, "At least per everyone else." All it takes is some sharing to identify what seems weird about it.

"You do, but I don't blame you," Gideon says, "I've met a couple of me that are." She chuckles about the sword. "This? Standard issue infantry."

Part of his mind had to admit that’s interesting, idly considering what part of his world might’ve been strange to her. Ideally, the long-spanning war would be the weird difference - but he didn’t have high hopes. Surely battle was a constant everywhere. Zechs felt humanity was too good at perpetuating violence, unless given sufficient motivation to end it. It’s more likely what he had decided to do would be seen as odd, Zechs believed.

Which was and wasn’t fortunate, for them.

But Gideon mentioned something far more fascinating. “There are other versions of ourselves which visit this place?”

Fascinating, horrifying, intriguing. A mixture of all three.

Gideon flashes finger guns at the new guy catching on so quickly, rather than getting confused by the statement. Sounds like he'll do well here—at least with catching on to what's going on. How he handles it? Getting hung up on a cactus doesn't tell her that much.

"Got it in one," Gideon says, "Hasn't happened in a while, so Thirteen might be trying to keep it fresh. This last month people got made older or younger, but it turns out that wasn't Thirteen. That was due to one of our peers."

She motions in a direction. "Lets get you to civilization, yeah? Unless you're dead set on wandering a foreign desert with no sense of which way leads out."

Zechs frowned a little. “I’d been wondering. None of us are truly real - our actual selves are living our lives. It would follow that, at any point during them, we could be taken here. It makes as much sense as simply being here to begin with.”

The rest of what she said … was tucked into a part of his brain, to be picked apart later. In a dangerous situation, it was best to focus on the parts that were immediately recognizable and could be acted upon. When he wasn’t in immediate danger, he could dissect and analyze the rest.

If there was anything rational to be found at all. So far … none of this made sense.

“That doesn’t sound like an ideal plan,” Zechs quipped wryly, to wandering the desert. “Though I’d prefer to face more of those sand-worms than waste away in illusions, should we encounter anything on our way.”

Gideon exhales loudly. "If that's how you wanna take it, be my guest," she says, "Fair warning, if you treat me like shit because you think I'm not real or because you're just being a dick, you'll get the same response."

It's day number one. It's a hard day. She gets it. Not everyone comes from being about to die (or probably die but actually get stuffed into their own corpse and reanimate it).

"Sand worms, delightful," Gideon mutters. That's why she carries weapons all the time. Not only because she's a cavalier and a sword nerd and a jock. "Yeah, lets go, newbie. As we walk, tell me some of your living preferences, and I can direct you toward where you might wanna live, or if that's too much tell me what you like to eat, and we can grab a bite somewhere."

He has some clothes. Food and shelter. Necessities.

“That fox, this place might have judged me accurately as a monster,” Zechs told her frankly, “but I am not that sort of monster. I’ll react you with respect as all persons warrant.”

Given that he was growing horns, it seemed pointless to dissemble.

His lips twitched, almost amused. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been a ‘newbie’. What are my options? I’ve lived with little privacy before, and meager rations - but that wouldn’t be my preference.”

Gideon walks side by side with the new guy. "So you're a Myth," she says, "That doesn't make you a monster. Fellow Myth here. Treating yourself like a monster, not a person, doesn't do yourself any favors. Treat yourself with that same respect all persons warrant."

Gideon waves her tail back and forth. Apparently, she's not the horny type.

"Mood," Gideon says regarding little privacy and meager rations, "A lot of the housing is in Willow. It's large and green. It has the lakes and a lot of farmland.

"You've got Lapine, which are burrows, good if you like underground living. Talk about soundproofing. It's spread out, quiet, with lots of food and clean water. Take the train to get to anything to do.

"You've got Leshy, which are treehouses, good if you want the high ground. They cluster in groups of five. They're spread out, so you can shop for an exact location you want. At risk to high winds.

"You've got Gram, which are cottages, good if you want privacy. They're around the lakes, farther north near Thoth. You got privacy, but everything else is a lot farther to get.

"Lastly, you've got Talaria, which are tiny houses, good if you like community. They're right at the corner of Willow, Cruel Summer (where we are now), and Exile. They're seriously tiny, but everyone helps each other out. They get destroyed the most frequently, but hey try out a different house?

"In Cruel Summer, you've got Puca Park, which are trailers, good if you like independence but having each other's back. It's near Exile. Night sounds creepy af, but they have fun doing physical shit for entertainment. Gotta travel a lot for food and groceries.

"In Exile, if you've been exiled, if the land likes you, you might get a little cabin to make your own. No guarantees. Good for privacy. Long trek for literally anything else.

"In Epiphany, you've got Satori Hills, which are apartments, good if you like to live in the city. You got neighbors, sure, but you also have access to everything in the city, like the food carts and Catfe."

Gideon counts off on her fingers to check. "Yep that's all of them. Unless you want to live in a dorm at a school. Thoughts?"

Zechs didn’t say anything in response to her claim, that he treat himself with respect. Being a myth might not make him a monster - but his actions had. What he’d chosen after, the steps he’d taken since, didn’t erase that. His history might be meaningless to her - he’d had no idea what she’d seen removing him from that cactus - but Zechs knew he brought his actions and any consequences therein with him, no matter how alien this place was.

It’d be a kindness he didn’t deserve if he escaped them, he felt.

“It all sounds incredibly … rustic,” Zechs remarked, thinking that was the best word for it. “While I am an exile of sorts, I’m uncertain if I can simply live off the land. Perhaps the city would require the least amount of adjustment.”

There’s a beat, turning over what she said further. “What destroys things in Talaria?”

Edited 2023-04-30 23:58 (UTC)

Gideon looks over at Zechs, eyeing him the way she might Eren because he vibes the same way. It's an easy vibe check to make with everything she got pulling him off the cactus. Regardless, she has her eyes on him, and if he thinks he can treat himself like shit, he's got another thing coming. Friendship.

"There's people here who've never heard of space travel," Gideon says, "I've had to explain outer space before. So sure, it's rustic, but you get privacy and never have to worry about starving as long as you interact with people."

She shrugs casually at the question about Talaria. "Weather mostly," she says, "Last summer there was a massive flood. Magical kind. Destroyed the cabins in the summer camp too. In January, it was snow everyyyyyyyywhere. Except Cruel Summer. Some of the tiny houses were completely buried under." She makes a squishing motion. "Willow had mudslides everywhere this spring. Part of a whole cleansing the land thing?"

"Look, I grew up on a planet with no atmosphere, so this whole weather thing and seasons is something I'm still getting used to. Weird as fuck if you ask me."

Fortunately, Zechs had no idea he’d already been categorized as such. He might try to dissuade her otherwise. Perhaps there was a pattern in the behavior of these sorts of people.

His brow furrowed in consideration. “Odd. I wonder if having most of this reality in a more primitive state helps the vast majority adjust, if they exist without the technology to leave the Earth. Or establish their own colonies.”

“Cleansing the land, or the people within?” Zechs muttered. But then, his brows raised. A planet with no atmosphere? “Does your reality lack the technology to terraform a planet, or is that in progress? Granted - it is something our scientists are developing at present. That was the project I was assisting with.”

Zechs Merquise | Gundam Wing | Myth

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