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Entry tags:
December 2023 & January 2024 Test Drive Meme
December 2023 - January 2024 TDM
Introduction
Overflow TDM post found here
[ TDM Questions ★ Jump to Comments ★ Full Navigation ]
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: School Detention, Time Not Passing, Forced Reflection/Confession, Potential Violence
Welcome to detention. Star Children, whether they're new arrivals to Folkmore or old hands, find themselves sitting at two person desks in a library. Perhaps there's only two Star Children, perhaps up to four or five. Regardless, each Star Child has a slip of paper in their hands which spells out why they are in detention, a secret detention slip no one else can read. Which, whew, because the reason any Star Child is in detention is for something they've never been punished for, something they might reasonably have thought they got away with, something they know was wrong.
The door to the library opens, and Kuma Lisa enters. She explains that Star Children will be in detention for four hours, and by the end of detention, they will need to reflect on what they did and express contrition. The headmistress gives no further guidance before leaving and closing the doors behind her.
Four hours is a notable chunk of time, but it's not so long, is it? Surely it's possible to wait it out without making good on the assignment… Or perhaps it's enough to write about it in one of the notebooks on the table in front of each student, without explaining it to another soul. Star Children are welcome to try whatever they want. However, they may notice an oddity with the clock. Namely, no matter how many times the second hand ticks around a circle to mark a whole minute, the minute and hour hands don't progress. It's the same minute over and over and over—
Detention is four hours, but how long four hours takes is entirely up to the Star Children in detention. Read every book in the library. Throw a dance party. Get high. Pull weapons out of the books. All matter of non-magical weapons. Nothing immediately happens upon pulling those weapons—no monsters to make detention less boring. Unless people make progress reflecting on their transgression, communicating about it with another Star Child, and showing penitence for it, time won't pass. Reality warps to stay in the same minute, minute after minute, hour after hour.
What's it going to be? Never ending detention or personal accountability?
However long it takes, it only takes four hours in the realm of Folkmore.
A word of warning to those who grabbed weapons, they will be attacked on their way home after detention. They will be attacked by creatures out of storybooks. Star Children will need to know the literary weaknesses of these creatures, good luck, or the help of someone else coming along who does know their weaknesses. At least there's some excitement in the day after four long long hours.
Welcome to detention. Star Children, whether they're new arrivals to Folkmore or old hands, find themselves sitting at two person desks in a library. Perhaps there's only two Star Children, perhaps up to four or five. Regardless, each Star Child has a slip of paper in their hands which spells out why they are in detention, a secret detention slip no one else can read. Which, whew, because the reason any Star Child is in detention is for something they've never been punished for, something they might reasonably have thought they got away with, something they know was wrong.
The door to the library opens, and Kuma Lisa enters. She explains that Star Children will be in detention for four hours, and by the end of detention, they will need to reflect on what they did and express contrition. The headmistress gives no further guidance before leaving and closing the doors behind her.
Four hours is a notable chunk of time, but it's not so long, is it? Surely it's possible to wait it out without making good on the assignment… Or perhaps it's enough to write about it in one of the notebooks on the table in front of each student, without explaining it to another soul. Star Children are welcome to try whatever they want. However, they may notice an oddity with the clock. Namely, no matter how many times the second hand ticks around a circle to mark a whole minute, the minute and hour hands don't progress. It's the same minute over and over and over—
Detention is four hours, but how long four hours takes is entirely up to the Star Children in detention. Read every book in the library. Throw a dance party. Get high. Pull weapons out of the books. All matter of non-magical weapons. Nothing immediately happens upon pulling those weapons—no monsters to make detention less boring. Unless people make progress reflecting on their transgression, communicating about it with another Star Child, and showing penitence for it, time won't pass. Reality warps to stay in the same minute, minute after minute, hour after hour.
What's it going to be? Never ending detention or personal accountability?
However long it takes, it only takes four hours in the realm of Folkmore.
A word of warning to those who grabbed weapons, they will be attacked on their way home after detention. They will be attacked by creatures out of storybooks. Star Children will need to know the literary weaknesses of these creatures, good luck, or the help of someone else coming along who does know their weaknesses. At least there's some excitement in the day after four long long hours.
🦊 Star Children, new and old, in groups of 2-5 are in detention for something they did wrong & haven't been punished for.
🦊 Kuma Lisa explains detention lasts four hours, and people have to express regret for what they did by the end.
🦊 Time doesn't pass unless Star Children make progress toward that assignment.
🦊 It always takes four hours in Folkmore time.
🦊 Star Children who draw weapons from books during detention will be attacked on their way home.
🦊 Kuma Lisa explains detention lasts four hours, and people have to express regret for what they did by the end.
🦊 Time doesn't pass unless Star Children make progress toward that assignment.
🦊 It always takes four hours in Folkmore time.
🦊 Star Children who draw weapons from books during detention will be attacked on their way home.
Content Warnings: Theft, Glitter Bombs, Minor Power Nerfing
There's a problem with the nonexistent mail delivery system in Folkmore. Gifts are being delivered to residents' addresses—their correct addresses, even if they live in the woods—but those recipients, written on a fat cream label, cannot pick them up, teleport them, or otherwise move them under their own power. These gifts sit in garish and contrasting colors that make certain to draw attention to themselves. Hello, here they are.
Anyone else can pick these packages up, from the person next door to a stranger walking by. There's so many gifts around it's easy to pick one up, remove the label, and go on one's way. Few people are home all the time, and even if they are, what are they going to do? Pick it up themselves? Ha! It's freereal estate. Star Children with abilities to see inside the packages can see something they want badly within as extra motivation to go for it.
When Star Children open their ill gotten gains, these packages explode in a glitter bomb that coats everyone within a ten foot radius. This glitter is impossible to wash out, magic away, or otherwise remove for twenty-four hours. Walk, swim, fly, or otherwise go about with glittery evidence of the crime committed.
Almost always. If it were guaranteed, where would the fun be in that?
The rare fortunate criminal or the original recipient, helped by another Star Child, will receive an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item. Those who receive an item will stop receiving gifts on their doorstep, whether they stole the gift or received it from a package addressed to them. They can keep stealing other people's gifts, but they will only receive a glitter bomb from then on.
Mischievous Star Children can even prank each other by changing the label and redelivering packages to someone else. Should that person get help to bring the gift inside, it still isn't their gift, not really, so it too will explode in glitter.
There's a problem with the nonexistent mail delivery system in Folkmore. Gifts are being delivered to residents' addresses—their correct addresses, even if they live in the woods—but those recipients, written on a fat cream label, cannot pick them up, teleport them, or otherwise move them under their own power. These gifts sit in garish and contrasting colors that make certain to draw attention to themselves. Hello, here they are.
Anyone else can pick these packages up, from the person next door to a stranger walking by. There's so many gifts around it's easy to pick one up, remove the label, and go on one's way. Few people are home all the time, and even if they are, what are they going to do? Pick it up themselves? Ha! It's free
When Star Children open their ill gotten gains, these packages explode in a glitter bomb that coats everyone within a ten foot radius. This glitter is impossible to wash out, magic away, or otherwise remove for twenty-four hours. Walk, swim, fly, or otherwise go about with glittery evidence of the crime committed.
Almost always. If it were guaranteed, where would the fun be in that?
The rare fortunate criminal or the original recipient, helped by another Star Child, will receive an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item. Those who receive an item will stop receiving gifts on their doorstep, whether they stole the gift or received it from a package addressed to them. They can keep stealing other people's gifts, but they will only receive a glitter bomb from then on.
Mischievous Star Children can even prank each other by changing the label and redelivering packages to someone else. Should that person get help to bring the gift inside, it still isn't their gift, not really, so it too will explode in glitter.
🦊 Gifts appear outside Star Children's residences, even those without residences.
🦊 Recipients cannot pick up the gift but any other Star Child can.
🦊 Almost all stolen gifts explode in a glitter bomb that leaves glitter for 24 hours.
🦊 Star Children can receive an item from home, even a weapon or magical item.
🦊 Star Children can prank each other by changing the labels/moving the packages.
🦊 Recipients cannot pick up the gift but any other Star Child can.
🦊 Almost all stolen gifts explode in a glitter bomb that leaves glitter for 24 hours.
🦊 Star Children can receive an item from home, even a weapon or magical item.
🦊 Star Children can prank each other by changing the labels/moving the packages.
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[Kind of, not really. Even in his wildest of imaginations, he'd struggle to envision it. He's lived his whole life as an unknown and quite liked it that way. Being famous was never in the cards, and while his being a part of the Mighty Nein has earned him a certain notoriety, they're far from world-famous at this point.]
In that case, it may benefit you to embrace this place as a chance to rest, and be known only as yourself, and not a commodity.
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He grins, content with assurance that Caduceus is offering him.]
And that's why "Ramon" sits before you.
[If you get his drift. He's already on it!
A beat passes, and his expression returns to neutral -- maybe even a little on the pensive side.]
Caduceus...may I ask you a potentially insensitive question?
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[Ramon doesn't mince words, despite him preparing it as "potentially insensitive". He prefers it when the bandaid is just ripped right off when he's the recipient.]
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Begging your pardon, I had the same question myself, to you. But in my world we're called firbolgs. Colloquially, fey-giants.
WAIT I FORGOT WHAT SETTING WE'RE IN
Firbolgs?
[He has to test it on his own tongue. Did he say that right? It's foreign to him, but he's enough of a nerd to know what fey-giant gets across. Yeah, giant for sure. They may be sitting right now, but the height difference between them is already staggering.]
My kind doesn't have a name. [There's an unbearable sorrow below his attempt to sound like he's talking like something benign. His experience as an actor that it might end up going under someone's radar, except...he doesn't realize yet that the Fox granted him the world's most obvious tell. He doesn't have proper irises, but a saturated blue -- like the surf of the most distant, lonely ocean water far from land -- washes over them regardless.] Just our individual names.
But I've been living on another planet for so long now, I usually just settle for "alien."
lmaooo i also forget this option
Alien... hm. [That tracks, it is indeed unusual. Someone being smaller than him with elongated or exaggerated features isn't so strange, but the disembodied aspect sure is new.] Well, I don't mind any questions about it. Not sure how I'd answer, since this is normal for me, but I can do my best.
[He takes note of the sorrow - he's very perceptive by default, and as a tender of graves and something of a counsellor for the families of recently deceased he's used to watching for signs that someone isn't in a good state. He's watching, though he's allowing some space from it for a moment.]
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You're extended the same invitation -- but conversely, I'd be surprised if you asked me a question I haven't heard before.
[But for the reason he asked in the first place...]
You reminded me of the bovine hybrids we have in Eden. But they've got more [he gestures] pronounced snouts.
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Perhaps he should be offended - firbolgs are most certainly not cows - but he's not easily ruffled in general, so he makes a noncommittal noise and shakes his head.]
No relation, I'm afraid. [He is not.] Just the shape we grew into, far as I know. Is this, ah, normal? [He gestures towards his own neck, mimicking a hand passing through the space unhindered. You're sort of disconnected, bud.]
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[Hence the warning about insensitivity. Humans back home don't like being compared to hybrids, either.
He huffs a laugh, good-naturedly.] Ah, I knew I should have worn a turtleneck instead.
[Not really. He was just trying to be less obvious, not completely incognito. But wait, there's more! Or, perhaps in this case, less. Ramon holds up a hand and uses his other one to pull back his sleeve to reveal that he doesn't have any arms, either.]
Just common enough to count as "normal", yeah. But most people on my planet had limbs.
[Past tense? No, just your imagination...]
No one looks like this on the planet I live on now, though. Except for me.
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...My condolences. You've led a difficult life, haven't you.
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[He stares at Caduceus like he's a car about to run Ramon over.
He's had a lot of things aimed at him during his life. Anger, hatred, pity, envy, disgust. But when was the last time someone ever extended him genuine, warm empathy?
He almost feels like he doesn't deserve it. He tells himself that Caduceus knew, like really knew, he wouldn't so readily extend such a considerate hand.
His laugh is nervous.]
It hasn't always been bad! I have nothing but pleasant memories from Dimension X, [but what is that worth, now that they're all several decades in the past?] and I did really love my job before I found out it was a fraud, [but what is that worth, now that it's been tainted by the ugly truth?] and...
uh...
...the fame and fortune was nice?
[but what is that worth...when none of it made him happy?]
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Lots of stipulations included in those happy times. You're welcome to correct me if I'm wrong, of course, we've only just met today. It's just, you seem like you're carrying a lot. Joy is meant to lighten the load, not make it harder.
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The sentiment simply does not compute.
Everything worth fighting for is worth fighting for. Nothing comes easy, not since his planet died. Weights were always tied to the mast that was his smile. When was the last time he gave a laugh that wasn't rehearsed? Which of them only bubbled up because he was trying to stop himself from crying or screaming?
He can't fathom an effortless joy.
Moreover, he can't fathom how to continue having this conversation. He could blow it off, sure, but he's taking Caduceus's words far too much to heart to even feign dismissal or apathy.]
So what could a mild-mannered gentleman like you possibly be in trouble for?
[It's a crystal-clear transparent attempt at changing the topic. But can you blame him? He needs a breather.]
cw: drug use
Not so long ago, I began consuming a hallucinogenic plant to escape from reality for a while. My intentions were good, initially- I thought it would help me connect with the Wildmother. The effect it had against the losses I was experiencing at the time made it... appealing to continue, however.
cw: drug use will continue until morale improves (no wait--)
Reeeaallly.
[Devoid of judgment. More of a "been there, done that" kind of tone. Hallucinogenics aren't usually his bag, but they're not off the table, either.]
So were you taking the scenic route on your spiritual quest or are we talkin' full-on detour?
cw: drug use will cease because wildmom said calm down
[It's done and past now, no sense in dancing around it. He was in deep for a while.]
I was waiting for a vision. Got a few, but couldn't make sense of 'em, so I kept trying. Dreams can be powerful things, if they come from the right place.
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This guy clearly isn't from Dimension X or Earth, so why does every other thing he say hit so close to home?]
I'm not exactly an expert on this topic [and he never wound be; it's not the purview of his kind -- the ones who make his kind, on the other hand...] but aren't you supposed to sit on a vision and meditate on it? There's no guarantee that your next one will decode the other, when it's just as likely that it'll be concerned about something else entirely.
[He's not really questioning Caduceus's methods. He's just thinking out loud. Who knows, maybe he's barking up the wrong tree and crossing too many wires with his own life experience.
His brow furrows. Maybe some experiences are more universal than others, regardless of how their respective worlds work.]
But it's hard to sit with yourself when faced with loss. What void was waiting for you on the other side?
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[At his question about the void... hmm.]
I'm not sure what was waiting for me. It changed... never quite resonated. Sometimes the emptiness was enough of a kindness that I craved it. To not think what might've happened. To not imagine the worst-case scenario.
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...You'd never ventured outside home before.
[Stated bluntly. What a contrast: one forced from home, the other stayed in it. Is he envious? Hard to say. It's been so long now that it simply is what it is. Perhaps, more importantly, does it really matter? No matter which path you take...the emptiness was enough of a kindness that I craved it. The security of home doesn't guarantee protection.
This is hardly the breather he was looking for.
Oh well. He's here now. And if he really means that he wants to be someone new, he's going to have to figure out how to navigate difficult conversations like this without a script.
Softly:] What happened?
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My family tended a temple of the Wildmother for generations. The forest around us was dying, and one by one, they were called away to find a way to cure the blight. They left, and never came back. Each and every one, until it was just me, waiting.
[And he's calm, thoughtful, obedient. He's very good at waiting patiently. But he'd never had to do it alone before.]
cw generally heavy stuff. also we're back on drugs again
The persistent creep of death. The increasing decibels of silence; beloved voices being snuffed out. Your crying will be heard by only your own ears. Facing oblivion isn't emptiness, it's pain, and he feels it acutely.
He chokes on his own breath, barely audible:]
Caduceus--
[Pain is a counterintuitive thing. It's there to drive people to avoid danger -- learn how to survive a little better the next day. But that's all assuming that there's a chance to survive on the other side. It's only by freak accident that Ramon had the chance to run away in the first place. Otherwise...he would have been in the same place as Caduceus: lonely and waiting.
He doesn't know what to say. I'm sorry isn't enough. It never was, at least for him.]
It's not right--
[His voice cracks.]
It's not right that she would hold you accountable for trying to find solace in the absence of anything else.
[His eyes cast downward and speaks quietly.]
...especially when I'm still chasing that same solace myself.
the morales will continue until drug use- wait that's wrong too
It's alright. She never judged me for it. And I won't judge you, either. Our choices are our own, and it's we who have to live with them. I judge myself, for my weakness. She told me to wait, and I should have waited. My impatience was a flaw.
[By the Wildmother, he wants tea. Conversations like this really call for tea.]
Do you think it is a weakness, doing what you did?
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If what you did is considered weakness, then yeah. You could paint it as weakness, sure. There's just a half-dozen words that come to mind faster than "weakness" does.
[He gestures in no particularly specific way.]
Frustration. Desperation. Loneliness. Boredom. Anger.
[He huffs a sour laugh as he references a passing comment from earlier in the conversation:]
"Chasing my own tail."
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[He lays the paper down in front of himself, smoothing it out, his 'crime' laid plain even if only he can read it.]
In truth, I don't carry that much remorse over this. I can apologize for it, but my sincerity might be questionable. I did what felt right at the time, and it harmed no one but myself. I can live with what I've done.
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I think this might be a good place to wrap!