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July 2023 Test Drive Meme
July 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 and work like "mini-events". For new players and characters, you can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Current players are also allowed to have in-game characters post to the TDM so long as they mark their top levels ‘Current Character.’
TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.
Playing and interacting with the 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.
🦊 New Star Children meet the Fox still in their worlds, and she brings them into the new realm of Folkmore. As you follow her, your body begins to change and new characteristics emerge. These may stay for a while, or perhaps they will hide away after. And during all of this, the Fox explains to you where you will be going: to Folkmore.
and then... you fall like a shooting star, falling to the land in a burst of starlight.
🦊 Experienced Star Children are already familiar with this time of the month. There are shooting stars all across the sky, and some fall to the land, which means the Fox has brought new arrivals. These newly arrived Star Children will face some tests, but Thirteen wants the more seasoned residents to participate as well.
Perhaps you follow the falling stars on your own, or perhaps the Fox simply teleports you there, but it appears you too will be part of this.
Content Warnings: Reality shifting, environmental dangers.
Star Children new and old wake up in an extremely old building—or an incomplete one, it's hard to tell for sure. Star Children are solid and real and barefoot, but the building itself fades in and out of existence, threatening to abandon their occupants to the outside environment if they're lucky or nothing at all if they're not. Belongings are sparse, too ephemeral to be of any use. Not that shoes exist for even a moment.
Whether it's a home or an office, a train station or a school, what's certain is that it's not a place to stay. Because it whispers admonishments to leave, to pick up the pace, and promises that there is somewhere to go. Within minutes, the structure is gone, and Star Children must make their way across shifting jumbled landscapes toward Folkmore proper. They could travel across water, through tunnels, or amidst any type of land or space imaginable. The one constant is that it's not reliably there and thus difficult to navigate.
Should a Star Child get into a spot of danger, the land hums slightly and guides another Star Child to the person in question. The new Star Child is the only aide proffered, and they must work together to solve whatever conundrum is before them.
Star Children new and old wake up in an extremely old building—or an incomplete one, it's hard to tell for sure. Star Children are solid and real and barefoot, but the building itself fades in and out of existence, threatening to abandon their occupants to the outside environment if they're lucky or nothing at all if they're not. Belongings are sparse, too ephemeral to be of any use. Not that shoes exist for even a moment.
Whether it's a home or an office, a train station or a school, what's certain is that it's not a place to stay. Because it whispers admonishments to leave, to pick up the pace, and promises that there is somewhere to go. Within minutes, the structure is gone, and Star Children must make their way across shifting jumbled landscapes toward Folkmore proper. They could travel across water, through tunnels, or amidst any type of land or space imaginable. The one constant is that it's not reliably there and thus difficult to navigate.
Should a Star Child get into a spot of danger, the land hums slightly and guides another Star Child to the person in question. The new Star Child is the only aide proffered, and they must work together to solve whatever conundrum is before them.
Content Warnings: Liminal space, abandoned building, service industry.
Beach Day
Beach Day
It's difficult to tell exactly when Star Children are back on terra firma. The air is foggy and damp, obscuring vision similarly to reality coming in and out. However, all Star Children who get out find themselves on a beach of wet sand. Keep marching onward, and trees form a skeletal border growing dark shadows stretching further into their depths. Those who have been exiled before can feel a path through the trees should they wish to venture further into Exile. Those who have never been exiled can feel resentment and the promise of further difficulty.No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem
Like Baba Yaga, Exile seems to have walked over into new territory: a beach. Yes, the beach itself is in Exile and heavy with the weight of magic. It extends in either direction, bordering the long expanse of tenuous reality that laps against it. Star Children can do as they wish on the beach: build a sand castle, run or slide down dunes, or soak in the magic (the sun is hiding). And hey, at least no sand is getting in anyone's shoes—as there aren't any.
For those who walk the shore and explore the beach, they can eventually catch sight of a fading sign reading Vasilisa's swinging in a faint wind from a wooden post. Coming closer, there's faint signs of a fence having lived there back in the day. Lone picket teeth tilt haphazardly around a yard with weather worn beach furniture. Chairs hunch around tables flashing their back legs in the air for all the world to see. A stone path, half buried under sand, weaves between them toward the lone building on these empty shores.
The building clearly used to have bright colors some time, but it's faded and cracked to show the wood beneath. A covered porch crowds with tables for a break from the sun weakly illuminating the foggy scene. The front door creaks but opens to an empty host station and further seating within the beachfront restaurant. A giant chalkboard taller than most humans and many times wider looms over one side between two windows. Menu is written in flowing script atop the chalkboard, and several thick pieces of chalk rest on the ledge before it. All it needs is to be filled in.
No spirits greet anyone or man the kitchen. It's empty, though well stocked with pots and pans, mixing bowls and measuring cups, shelf stable ingredients and fresh ones. None of the food is rotten or bad. It's simply waiting. The only way for the restaurant to run is for Star Children to step up and run it. Develop a menu, cook dishes, seat guests, take orders, clear dishes, wash dishes… There's no shortage of ways to help out.
So come and enjoy the restaurant, whether to work in it or to enjoy the labors of those who do. Whoever helps the restaurant in any capacity will find, when they take a moment's break, a small chest containing an item from your homeworld. This may even be a weapon or magical item.
And shoes.
no subject
[But fine, fine, he's not going to insist that Emet-Selch strip here and now just to sate his curiosity. Just having him here is enough for the moment and although in the grand scheme of things the length of time he's spend alone isn't all that long at all, he has felt the lack of his closest friend in the months he has been in this place.]
Yes, it can wait. [And then, after a moment spent observing everything about the other man all at once.] We can both deal with our curiosity over the matter at a more suitable time.
[The last thing he wants right now, really, is to push Emet-Selch's mood to something more sour than its usual baseline. As much as he does - and always has - enjoyed needling the man he does have other priorities right now. One of which is, quite abruptly, the building he spies up ahead.]
This is going to sound like an odd question, but do you see that building as well?
no subject
[Not that his own curiosity is at all comparable - at least on the matter of his new appendages. What does pique his interest, however, is the small building that rises out of the fog in the distance. Rather small for a dwelling, but perhaps this close to the sea it serves some other purpose for those who would otherwise make their living off of the ocean's bounty.]
Hm.
You mean the one with the faded sign and the dilapidated fence? Yes, I see it. I'd wager it hasn't been used in some time. Or at the very least, whoever last did cared little for its upkeep.
no subject
Yes, yes, that's exactly the one I mean.
[The first sign of any kind of civilisation he's seen since he ended up out here and all the more tempting for it despite the obvious level of disrepair. His steps quicken just a little, enough to put himself out in front of Emet-Selch as he curiously eyes the building while they draw closer.]
Strange how I didn't see it before. We haven't walked that far, have we? [Have they? It's difficult to tell sometimes in these strange positions Thirteen puts them in. He looks over his shoulder to the trail of their footsteps behind them, stretching out across the damp sand.]
Well. We should go and have a look, should we not?
no subject
So long as it's dry and provides someplace for me to rest my weary feet, I don't see why we shouldn't.
As to the whys and the hows of it, very little about this place isn't strange. If our surroundings themselves are capable of shifting on a whim, I see no reason why our distance of travel cannot be shortened or lengthened.
[Emet-Selch comes up beside him, studying the outside of the building now that they've drawn closer. All appears still, yet there are clear signs of use, even some footprints which appear fresh.]
Ah, a restaurant. Fantastic... Let us hope there's still some manner of stove inside.
[The place is deserted, he's certain of it. And so it is that Emet-Selch pushes aside the creaky front door and takes a step across the threshold - cautiously, but decisively.]
no subject
Something which does, admittedly, inspire some wariness all on its own.
But it's hard not to feel confident with Emet-Selch at his side, so the momentary pause really is only momentary before the lilac-haired man is moving forwards with purpose once again.]
Are you telling me you're going to cook?
[Because he would love to see this. It would be a treat, in fact.]
Do you take requests?
no subject
[An impatient cluck of his tongue, yet Emet-Selch has enough manners to swing the door wide open so that it doesn't clip either of them when a draft inevitably begins to tug it closed again. The inside, too, is deserted yet it appears to have been recently visited. There's a bowl of fruit on the counter - still fresh, by the look of things. And a quick perusal and a tentative poke of a finger proves they are entirely real and not simply likenesses molded from wax. The kitchen itself appears stocked, too.]
[It's as if someone was here and simply stepped out for a breather, despite the fact they have passed no one on the way here.]
[Interesting. Very much so.]
Though I suppose a meal wouldn't be the worst idea. Can't say I remember the last time I sat down for one.
[A glance over Hythlodaeus as he crosses his arms.]
This is the part where you make your request, though do keep in mind I'm under no obligation to fulfill it.
no subject
He picks up an apple from the fruit bowl and examines it, squinting slightly at it as if trying to ascertain if it's entirely safe... then he looks to Emet-Selch with a bright expression and a shift in his demeanour that suggests very much that if he had a tail, it might well be wagging.]
Really? Hmm.
[They should probably look to see what is on offer first, because Hythlodaeus could really ask for anything. Apple in hand, he ventures to poke around the place to see what he can find, discovering a surprisingly well-stocked kitchen considering it seems that no one is here.
... It's weird, but honestly, when it comes to situations like this he's learned not to ask too many questions.]
There's some meat here, vegetables... frying pan? What do you think, Hades? Are you prepared to dazzle me with your culinary prowess?
[Heehee.]
no subject
[There's what appears to be a uniform hanging from a peg on one wall - a simple thing that has no hope of fitting over his broad frame, along with a rather unusually decorated apron depicting a beautiful girl's face on the pocket and the embroidered word Vasilisa's. Well. They needn't be here long. A sharp and well-aimed snap of his wings has water scattering across the threshold, pelting the deck outside as he slips the apron over his head and ties it behind him.]
I do hope you realize you are only setting yourself up for disappointment. But I may be able to devise something edible.
[A sharp look, as if to say "not a word about this".]
What about oil? Grains? We'll start by frying up the meat and vegetables.
no subject
uhm
appearance.]
Well, now. You got comfortable quickly.
[And he's delighted, honestly (and obviously). He sets down a bottle of oil and a bag of rice, then leans both hands on the counter and rakes his full attention down his friend's form from head to foot.
Excuse him. Not a word.]
Did I hear a 'we' in that statement? You'll be expecting me to help, then. [He can definitely do that, but...] Make some room, in that case.
no subject
Hardly. Yet it's more comfortable than damp robes. They should dry soon enough in any case, moreso once we've begun.
[He has half a mind to warm his wings in the heat of the stove once whatever they concoct has been removed and served, but he doesn't get around to voicing that thought. Instead he frowns yet again.]
Make some room where precisely? There's plenty of it already. If I can entreat you to start chopping vegetables into bite-sized morsels, I'll see what can be done about the rest.
no subject
Some things never do change it seems. Hythlodaeus' ability to ruffle his friend for one, and the other being that the man is prickly enough to injure anyone approaching from a ten malm radius. Not that it deters him at all, as he sidles over and puts himself immediately beside Emet-Selch with a cheerful smile.]
Oh, I can manage chopping.
[And he does, albeit with all the finesse of someone utterly unused to making food of his own for the most part. At least he doesn't cut his fingers.]
That, uhm... [A glance. He fights a smile.] That apron is very fetching on you, my friend. Brings out your eyes.
no subject
I should certainly hope so. The vegetables, after all, are the easy part.
[Prickly though he is, he makes a point of not bumping Hythlodaeus's elbow as they work, keeping his wings carefully folded, and trying not to fidget at all knowing that every now and then those keen eyes are directed in his direction.]
And what's this? An unsolicited compliment? I had no idea it was my...eyes which have you so thoroughly captivated all of a sudden.
[He sounds more tired than cross, for a mercy, as he reaches over to turn on the stove. More quietly, he adds:]
If it's a problem or a distraction, I can conjure up something more modest. There's no need to stare so. Surely you have seen much and more in your time here...?
no subject
Well, he's still relatively sure of his confidence in that, even with the strange weight hanging about his old friend.]
Unsolicited, he says, as if it is not the kind of thing he hears from me often or something he would ask for if he did not! [The lilac-haired man laughs, though his laughter turns to something quieter and more curious as the other man's voice lowers.]
Not a problem in the least. [And a delightful distraction, if he's entirely honest... Emet-Selch's form is not without its appeal.] And I have seen many things, both here and at home, though I could not say any of them quite compare.
[His brow arches. A cheeky smile plays on his lips again.]
Just what do you think I've been getting up to?
no subject
[An obvious lie, perhaps, but it's the sort of deflection Hythlodaeus will have come to expect from his friend when he doesn't wish to be teased further. Still, the weight about him has not entirely abated. His hands continue their work without faltering, and he doesn't shy away from the close proximity, yet his posture does slouch forward incrementally, as if he's concentrating very hard on what he's doing.]
While the levity is appreciated, I suspect you know something. Have you any idea how long it's truly been?
[Or how many times he may have asked for such things - had he the chance to do so.]
no subject
[The movements of Hythlodaeus' hands slow for a moment as though his thoughts are pulling him off somewhere else, then he gives a tiny shake of his head and subtly draws his lower lip in between his teeth for a moment.]
For how long since I saw you last, barely months. [Not so long at all when put into the context of the rest of their lives regardless of how much he might have missed his persistently grouchy friend. He trails off for a moment then, though, and taps the knife lightly against the cutting board as he makes a quiet clicking sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth.]
How long it may have been since you last saw me... [A small shake of his head.] I know what I see. And what you might be declining to say in order to spare me something. Unnecessary, by the way... but very like you.
no subject
[He echoes, his pitch rising sharply and then falling once again to something almost ordinary. Emet-Selch doesn't question that statement further, yet 'tis clear by the way he continues his work with stiff efficiency that time and circumstance holds a great deal of weight - for him at least. Even a good dousing in the aetherial sea and a long walk across the astral planes with that fox spirit have not yet managed to lift the burdens he's had to carry; not completely, in any case.]
Shall I say it then? While, yes, it has been very little time since we last saw one another as a technicality, it has been over 12,000 years since we last stood together beneath Amaurot's gleaming spires.
[A hissing sound rises from the pan he's set upon the stove, and he gestures vaguely towards the cut and cubed vegetables.]
Not that they were gleaming then.
no subject
Rather than speak he simply places his hand against the centre of his friend's back and idly rubs his thumb back and forth a few times. Twelve thousand years... well, the weight of it was certainly there though Hythlodaeus doubts he would have got the number exactly right.]
It's all right, my friend. We can speak of it another time. [Granted he does often find mischief and entertainment in pushing Emet-Selch's boundaries and comfort to an extent he would not want to actually upset the man.] No doubt we'll both find our spirits lifted by a good meal, don't you think? And we're well on our way with it already.
no subject
[It isn't unwelcome, exactly, and yet the pressure of that thumb may as well have brushed over the controls of some magitek device and caused it to malfunction, because all at once his feathers ruffle in a visible shiver and Emet-Selch makes a rather undignified and bitten-off sound as one of his dark wings smacks Hythlodaeus (quite harmlessly) across the face.]
!!
The only thing I'm well on my way to is shooing you out of the kitchen entirely!
[A bit snappish, but 'tis clear that Emet-Selch isn't truly angry at all, merely covering for this oddly puzzling little reaction he has absolutely no control over.]
Your work on the vegetables is much appreciated, but I am more than capable of handling the rest on my own. Mayhap you can find us some spirits in the meantime, or settings for the table.
no subject
[Harmless as the smack is it doesn't make it any less startling and nor does it stop the aghast and faintly injured expression that Hythlodaeus shoots his friend's way in the moments following. Visibly startled, Emet-Selch's lack of anger doesn't quite sink in immediately, and when it does the realisation does little to temper Hythlodaeus' confusion.]
All right, all right! By the Star...
[Waving one hand over his shoulder and shaking his head he steps away to find a likely spot for some drinks, locating some bottles of what appear to be wine with relative ease before he moves to set a table for them both.
He stays quiet meanwhile, though he does shoot the occasional glance over to his friend... as if he's checking up on him.]