![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
April 2023 Test Drive Meme
April 2023 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: 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!
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!
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.
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.
no subject
Zechs cleared his throat, and gently would try to extract himself. "As I mentioned. And understand I mean this metaphorically - I am not that kind of monster. Mortal suffering is temporary. If an afterlife does exist somewhere - that is eternal, and not a fate I'd wish on most."
When she pulled back, he folded his arms on instinct, which would hopefully help shield him from repeat hugs. (Just. Why did he look like the sort of person anyone should hug?) But her question managed to coax a slight smirk.
"Yes, I have quite a few skills to my name. There is but one pilot who can best me, and outside of a suit, few can match me in either swordsmanship or marksmanship." He's clearly proud.
no subject
"Mmhmm, yep, not that kind of metaphorical monster," Gideon agrees far too easily. That's totally what she meant. Nothing else. Nothing more. Her eyes glint behind her glasses, but the desert sun protects her (Zechs? one of them) from it.
Despite the sand, Gideon nearly starts bouncing in excitement. "We have to spar. Swords. I mean swords. I literally don't care which of us if either of us sweeps the floor with each other, but we need to fight. Then we have to do it again. And again. And again." Yeah, she means it, as much as she meant all the rest. To the floor's the style she's used to.
She settles down more seriously a moment. "But how do you mean to help people here? There isn't a lot of fighting to do outside of possibly trials. It's a pretty peaceful place. You did terraforming. Could you do... gardening?"
no subject
But her question brought him up a little short. Zechs frowned again, that playful smirk disappearing. In fact, the memory the question invoked was a little ... painful, and he tried not to let that show on his face. "... I know only a little of gardening, by way of a friend I once knew. I'm certain I could learn more if required."
no subject
The playfulness disappearing saddens Gideon. They'd just gotten there. "Doesn't have to be gardening," Gideon assures him, "There's lots to do around Folkmore. People make their own ways all the time. I just meant... what non-fighty stuff do you know?"
An awkward question, she gets it. The sword was all she trained with since she was four.
no subject
He crossed his arms. "Nor, for the same reasons we lack war, will you need a politician, though my skills are weaker there. No need for diplomacy when there's little conflict. I studied history - irrelevant here - literature - likewise pointless."
Fingers flexed on his arm. He did hate feeling useless.
no subject
"That's a lot of skills," Gideon says, "People bring in their own tech and buildings and stuff from home, but that takes a lot of lore. So you gotta keep it working and make the most of what you've got. If you can handle your level of tech, surely you can do something here.
"Politics are people skills. Always need those. You may not help forge a peace treaty, but people get plenty testy over ordinary things. Plus they could help you teach. Assuming you know more than names and dates and shit, it sure as hell would help people to learn how to analyze their own world's history or literature. Teach the skills."
She leans over, "Tell me, what are the literary or historical merits of titty mags? Surely there's something." Half-joking, half-not. Gideon pulls a copy of Frontline Titties of the Fifth out of her bag and offers it over.
no subject
But his expression closed off a bit more as she continued to offer suggestions. Zechs was taking what she said seriously - he didn't intend to dismiss them out of hand. But truly, he didn't think much of his 'softer' skills. "I mentioned that my skills there were weaker. I'm not the best person to help resolve a conflict, even if it's over something minor. And I'm not certain if others will have the patience to learn history that's not relevant to them ..."
But the sudden magazine caught him off-guard. Zechs took it, giving her a puzzled look. Blankly, he said, "They're a dime a dozen in any soldier's barracks. I've never seen this parti -" he shook his head, "- no matter. You can't be serious to view this as a literary work."
no subject
"Sure I can," Gideon says. She points to the cover, where a particularly tight Cohort uniform doesn't reach as high as the real deal. The light shining down highlights the cleavage, sure, but that's not all. "You can tell this magazine's going to glorify the Empire and the war. Look at the way she's drawn. We're looking up at her in heavenly light, sword pointed upward. Enemies, yes in bikinis but enemies nonetheless, pour over themselves below her feet. They're hot but drawn in a much less flattering light. You aren't supposed to want them. You're supposed to want her—to fuck her, to be her. Both. Come join the Cohort, it says. That's where the hot ass is and where you can become as hot as her.
"And we're just on the cover." Sure it's how Gideon glorified the Cohort when they were her only escape, but it shows that.
no subject
... Why did she have to have some merit in this ridiculous argument? Thanks, Gideon.
"By that same token, there's likely some metaphor about subjugating and humiliating the enemy while they're at it," Zechs grumbled reluctantly. He stubbornly maintained, "It's still ridiculous."
no subject
She chuckles. "Just goes to show we're sending signals everywhere all the time, even in the stories we tell in our heads," Gideon says. She leans closer, "For fourteen years, the Cohort was going to be the only way out of the Ninth House. This is how I saw it, even though I'd never seen more than the news that came back and the Cohort pilots flying the shuttles. My head made this... before I learned a fuck lot more about our empire, and you can fucking see it in the tits."
no subject
He's not really judging her for it; it's just porn. But that's the thing, it's just porn. There's some inner academic he hadn't realized he was harboring, grumbling over their organized and meticulous research notes at Gideon inside of Zechs' brain.
But he could relate a little to what she was describing, vaguely. Zechs nodded his head. "I had a far less glamorous view of the military - I had seen its reality too close, too young. And yet I was still taken in by an illusion that its power could help me accomplish my goals. I can imagine a more ... seductive message would have been more effective even still."
Zechs still hadn't a clue that Gideon had seen the same illusions which had trapped him against that fated cactus within that hour.
no subject
More importantly, Zechs care about literature of a 'proper value' which just goes to show Gideon's point he could teach it. "God, wouldn't you love for people to be able to analyze and understand the messages behind what they read?" Gideon asks. She stares at him intently. See? See! She didn't pull out the porn only for fun.
She winces a little at his statement of seeing it's reality too close, too young. The fragments of his memory come to mind, and Gideon agrees. She might beat his record for 'age of first murder in her presence,' but one day old is too young to remember it. Stories are all she has. Stories of what happened.
"It is powerful, and you saw how powerful it was. The idea that power could be used for good in the right hands is seductive," Gideon says.
no subject
Yes, he saw her point, even if he admitted it only begrudgingly.
Zechs noted her wince, and reminded himself - he didn't know much of Gideon's history. Likely, with her age and stated skill with a sword, there was perhaps much painful in her past. His nod was solemn. "Seductive even to the skeptically minded. It's too easy to believe that you will be different from the others who might take up such power."
no subject
Zechs clearly speaks from experience. Gideon's seen how it turns out, why a man shouldn't become god. The lack of peers does no one any good. At least Harrow had Gideon. That helped a lot, she's sure of it. "And too easy to be seduced once you have it," Gideon says, "Oh the things you can do!"
She pauses for a moment before looking over at Zechs. "Your dad must have been pretty wise, not to be seduced by it." Even if he weren't wise enough to see the consequences coming.
no subject
That didn't sit right with him. It didn't feel true. But she lanced at a truth that was instinctual for him to hide and deny. It was the thing that had kept him alive for most of his life. So while he bristled, temper surely awoken - he grit his jaw and clenched his hands, not saying what first came to mind.
After a moment, an even breath where Zechs attempted to keep his temper, he asked with a sort of ice-cold calm; "And just how do you know of my father?"
no subject
Motioning over her shoulder back the way they came, Gideon says, "I got sprayed with your memories as I pried you off the cactus. They were in the water." It's not the first time water and memories have been tied together, though last summer it was more of the bubbles in the water. Similar deal, she guesses.
"Some kind of king dude. Peaceful." Slaughtered.
no subject
Likely, he'd accept that after all he's done, it's something he had coming to him.
Instead, he believed her - if this stupid place could have a cactus relive some of his worst memories, why not twist that knife by having them shared with others? After a moment of silence, his voice was calm - but much less filled with that stinging cold.
It's resignation tinging his words this time. "Then you remember now as much as I do about him, just about. I was young." A short pause, and he said, "It does not matter now. Forgive my temper."
no subject
"Damn," Gideon says. More at that being how Zechs would characterize his knowledge of his own dad. Admittedly, Gideon grew up with even less about her mom and nothing about her dad, but her circumstances were weird. Usually babies don't fall from space to land in your semi-secret cult.
"All good, buddy," Gideon says, "I've seen other people's memories before and had them see mine. I was mad about it the first time. I can't blame you for feeling the same. Do you want to ask me anything? Free offer." Because that's how she deals. She makes things choices she makes. It helps a fuckton.
no subject
Zechs shook his head. "No. You've already freely shared plenty; you could share more if you desire, but I would not demand it of you."
Besides. Dryly, "And, if this sort of thing happens frequently in this place - you might be forced to share eventually without our consent, as I understand."
no subject
Gideon shrugs. It used to bother her more. She found ways around that. When did it stop bothering her? She's not sure, only that it has. A natural part of being here? Something else? She's not sure, but the very fact she's thought of it is something new to go 'huh' at.