cursedcontent | TEST DRIVE MEME #1

Entry tags:

!tdm

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

A Blood Offering

You wake up cozy in bed at the Saturn Motel. As you observe the room you may realize that it looks a little dated. Or, perhaps from your point of view the lamp and TV are wildly futuristic. Or, like Goldilocks, it may seem just right: close to the world you just left behind. Either way, you just had a very strange dream (see the arrival scenario) and now you're here. And you're not alone: there's a bed next to yours and someone else is waking up just like you are.

You can chat for a while if you like, but if you try to leave you'll find the door is firmly locked and no amount of kicking, punching, or hitting it with an object will do you any good. Instead, there's a letter on the nightstand which reads:

"Good morning and welcome to your new home!

You may be wondering why you're trapped in this room. Fear not, the door will open easily if you offer a bit of blood. More than a few drops but not enough to be a serious wound. A handprint's worth will do, let's say, and it only needs to come from one of you.

I'll let you sort that out yourselves. See you on the other side.

Sincerely,
The Mayor"

And indeed, a handprint's worth of blood pressed against the door will unlock it and let you out into the world. Do you volunteer your own blood? Do you take it from the other person by force? It's up to you! But there's no food in here, so you better figure it out eventually.

Roller Rink

As a celebration of your new lives here (and an apology for the whole blood offering thing - they were just testing something out, really) the Mayor has invited everyone to the Crazy Eight Roller Rink for a private, after-hours party.

Attendance isn't mandatory, but it is heavily encouraged so that you can meet your fellow Cursed and know who's in on the whole secret. It'll help you down the line at some point if your Curse gets out of control and you need someone to wrangle you.

As a reward, everyone who shows up and completes at least one lap around the roller rink (you must be wearing skates, but you can crawl the lap if you can't get the hang of them) will receive a free walkman with a mystery tape inside. The color, style, and mystery tape your character gets are up to you.

Mallrats

Everyone loves the mall! Right? Right! And this group of newcomers is lucky enough to be here for the White Pines Mall Grand Opening celebration! Feel free to walk around the mall and partake in sales galore, check out the attractions, or just get to know the layout of the place.

The Mayor has given everyone a gift card for $100 that can be used anywhere in the mall as long as they attend the Grand Opening.

They also strongly suggest that you familiarize yourself with the mall and its layout, just in case you ever get stuck there for a while and have to compete with others for food and resources. But that probably won't happen.

Extra Info

The test drive meme and the IC intro log will have the same prompts, and threads between two accepted characters can count as game canon.

The first prompt is flexible: technically you're supposed to be with one other person, but if you want to do larger groups that's fine.

Rooms at the Saturn Motel initially contain two beds for the prompt, but upon leaving and returning characters will find that they all have their own rooms with one bed. If you want a roommate, someone better be ready to sleep on the floor or snuggle up! The room doesn't have to look exactly like the reference image as long as it's not too fancy and suitably dated.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ V would just let him think whatever he wanted about that. He wasn't smart enough to try to explain how the relic had reanimated his body after a bullet tore a hole through his brain and systems even though he did have a vague idea of what happened. He didn't want to think about what happened but still, he felt that guilt well up in his chest as his throat threaten to grow tight.

He pushed it away like he did all of the other things that were uncomfortable to think about. As he did, he felt a sullen stare coming from slightly behind him to the side and a burning feeling on the back of his neck. He knew the feeling, he knew the judgment. He refused to look, forcing his gaze back to Billy to keep his eyes from wandering. ]

We don't gotta talk about it. Shit like that's heavy.

[ It was really V who didn't want to dive too deep into either of their trauma. He didn't have the capacity to be empathetic nor did he care to dig his fingers into his own wounds and pry them open for Billy to see. ]

Why don't you take a seat'n breathe a moment? Think I figured the way out. [ He held up the note he found and shook it a little to emphasize it. ] Door's a vampire, I guess.

[ City people like to say they don't know their neighbors, but damn, every single one he's met is nosy as hell.

More disgusting grease intake, as Daryl assumes she's going to leave. She doesn't, and so he exhales in a rush, and sits back as he begins to deface the napkin dispenser, shoving his fingers into it to drag out a stack of napkins instead of tediously drawing them out one at a time. ]

I always cook for myself.

[ In fact, Daryl was proficient in the kitchen years before most children, because it was either that or starve. Skills that have evolved to being able to feed himself in even the most dire scenarios, which has kept him (and others) alive in the apocalypse. From deer to snakes, and wild mushrooms to worms, he knows what he's doing every manual step of the way. (Forcibly shoving thoughts out of his head, about those and others; it's fine. It'll be fine.)

Fast food is a novelty. Always has been. Before, because it cost money, and now, because it plain hasn't existed in years. ]

So I'm taking the night off, same as you.

It's too bad that such things were not explained because V probably would have picked up all of their music having known these things, but alas. Instead, it seemed that they had found one of the few things to actually rile V up. His eyes narrowed and his left hand clenched into a tight fist as his eyes narrowed. There was a way that all 6'3" of his frame seemed to puff up as if in a display of strength and a threat - a deeply ingrained defense mechanism that was entirely unnecessary. He managed to keep his voice low so as to try to avoid drawing any more attention than usual.

"You always an asshole or you just bein' one 'cause I don't think your favorite band's hard?"

It didn't help that the tattoos he had that were most immediately visible surely did look like they inked out joints that could have been of a mechanical nature if one was familiar with that sort of thing.

"I'm not like those 'borg motherfuckers constantly teetering on the edge of cyberpsychosis 'cause they don't want their fuckin' flesh anymore."

He wanted to say that he was also not an ai, but he had no fucking clue what he was anymore and he was doing his damnedest not to think about it because he was confident it would make him fall apart.

You don't need a knife, the woman says and if there was anything more - or less- reassuring that this woman wasn't a thread it was in how stupid the statement was to her. No adult who knew better would ask a street kid to throw away their knives. Even Rosethorn, who disapproved of them doing so, knew better than to ask her and Briar to not have them on them.

Because of that she doesn't let go of the knife or of her posture - Very much the form of a trapped animal ready to leap and fight for a way out of necessity. Wary and guarded, she shifted on her still healing feet. She wouldn't get very far on her own if she got out of here but for a moment she stares at the woman, blinking in stupid confusion.

"You say that like it's supposed to mean anything to me," she offered after a moment, mouth dipping in a frown, "we were on our way outta Gyongxe to Emelan -" Which aren't names that Joyce knows any more than Evvy knows California or Indiana. She's careful to say she's from Yanjing. Especially with all the Emperor had done recently, she doesn't want to claim the place that's only kindness had been selling her to slavery so she'd find Briar and Rosethorn her birthplace.

"How would you even know they're here?" Here, the way she says it sounds like she's not sure what that it is - With this strange woman who doesn't understand a (former) street kid when she wants it and her weirder Hawkins. What kind of name for a place was that?

Yeah, street kids aren't exactly her forte. "Or keep it if it makes you feel safer. Will used to have a teddy bear, I guess that's just a shiny sharp teddy bear."

After all she'd seen, Joyce was willing to let the girl hold on to the weapon if it gave her some security. She certainly wasn't going to try to take it from her. She lowered her hands to rest on her thighs, showing she was no threat, or at least trying to.

"I don't know any of those places. They don't sound like anything from the United States that I know of. I guess we're from really different places." And she wasn't about to try and guess what that meant right now, she had other puzzles to put together.

"I don't, but I have to look for them. I have to make sure they're ok." She shrugged, it wasn't like this was a choice for her. But noting how the girl moved, she frowned slightly. "Are you ok?"

[She picks lightly at the bed spread.] I remember rooms like this when I was a little kid, even then they were kinda old. [Eleanor gets to her feet and crosses to the small bathroom they have in their room, it takes her a moment to find a cloth and she gives it a sniff to make sure it's clean.]

Heaven I imagine would be at least a little bit brighter than this place. [She runs the faucet to the cold side, letting it run for a few seconds before placing the satisfactory cloth under it.]

Eleanor. [She casts a grin over her shoulder.] Most call me Nell, though.

Magic-? Oh, careful!

[Wren winces a bit when Deuce smacks into the barrier, but that fades when he doesn't seem any worse for wear about it and moreover is still pleased at his progress. That gets a sigh of relief and a thumbs up.]

You're totally learning fast, you've got this.

[Okay point taken but Wren has to add, quietly-]

I'm not the one sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of a normie mall looking like I come from some place where indoor plumbing and food security aren't a given.

If that's a personal choice - great. More power to you. Can't say I haven't thought of running away to live in the woods like a hermit myself sometimes. But - I just. Had to make sure.

... Even if we're all from different places, we're kinda outsiders together here. We should try to help each other.

Given Wren was only 5'7" and still had a lot of the late teens awkwardness that made any actual muscle significantly less impressive, they really shouldn't have met that puffing up with their own determined set of shoulders like they're ready to go a round. Especially not having powers anymore. But hey, the martial arts training Hadn't magically gone away.

Thankfully before they could make a supremely stupid decision that they had time and time again judged others for doing, V's words trip them up just enough that Wren's own anger manages to trip up trying to understand.

"-What's cyberpsychosis?"

It sounded like some scare tactic on the nightly news for people who spent too long on the internet according to their parents.

[When he takes his napkins he rips them loose in a callous wad. He's so uncouth it's almost fascinating. Brusque, short on words and patience alike, not one shit to give about his smell or demeanor.

Part of her is revolted. The other half itches for a pen. She doesn't have time to write fiction anymore. For a long time it's all she did: an escape for herself and an easy paycheck for her parents, a prospective ticket out of hell once she was old enough. Her topic may have been romance but the subjects were always the mean folks. Lowly and low class, overlooked, unbecoming, unwelcome. Stories by beautiful people about beautiful things were devoid of meaning. The real meat was in the leftovers.

The way this man moves, the way he talks, it all stamps itself on the back of her brain before she's thought to clock it. There's story here. It won't be a pleasant one, but there are elements of him she could use. Just where was he from, anyhow?]

I c-can't tell if you're being obtuse on purpose. [He probably is. Even the most restrictive home chef wouldn't go full neanderthal on food court pizza.] I mean you're from somewhere that doesn't have all this greasy pig slop.

Or not anymore.

[Same as her indeed. Sure, there were places you could find hold outs of the good old days. Mostly isolated communities, like islands, or pockets of wealth next to still usable land.

Inland your luck was much worse. That's where she'd put him if she were placing bets.]

Edited (Forgot spoiler warnings oops) 2022-08-25 11:50 (UTC)

( peter's brow furrows and knits together in scepticism as rodney questions what his decidedly not vague, thank you very much, but okay maybe a little bit hand gesture meant. ) Cool it? ( he suggests, intonation edging towards questioning, but it's less a question to rodney and more a question of rodney. "how did you not get that?" it says. the response overlaps with rodney's own continued ramblings about how he'd totally definitely do the blood thing if only his hands weren't super special and important; and peter's not sure if rodney actually heard him, really, genuinely cares about the response or if he just likes to hear the sound of his own voice.

peter knows, oh, he knows he shouldn't judge, but the more rodney speaks, the more the despair that peter feels deepens. he's not going to make assumptions as to what rodney's like in a fight, but he feels with bone-deep certainty that if they get out of this room and encounter less-than-friendly faces, there's not a chance in hell that peter's going to let this guy talk and ruin everything for them.

the letter said about a handprint's worth of blood, but it didn't say it had to come from a hand, so peter starts rolling up his sleeves — both, because if this makes a mess, these are the only clothes peter has for the time being, and he's quite fond of them, you know? they've served him well and they're really comfortable.

he opens his mouth to either reply to rodney's deluge of words or to sigh, it's not quite clear. peter's attention is fixated on his sleeves as his mind wanders through his options: maybe he could just pretend to die and rodney could go on without him once they get the door open. he'd finally get some peace and flarking quiet in his life.

that'd be nice.

but as soon as rodney questions ship, peter's focus snaps back to him, fingers remaining folded around the sleeve of his shirt mid-roll. then rodney says daedalus and he scoffs, gaze immediately softening. dismissively, he says— )

Who'd name their ship after Icarus's son? ( not a guy who named their ship after winona, evidently. ) No, ( he adds, with barely a breath of a pause. ) My ship's the Ryder.

And if it helps, I was trying to take a trip to Knowhere. ( pronounced exactly as it sounds, which is to say: there's no indication that peter's not saying 'nowhere'. ) But apparently it's taken a vacation from floating around at the edge of the galaxy, ( he adds, lips pressing together momentarily. that whole situation was really weird, probably weirder than this and probably linked to the whole — thanos deal, which peter missed because groot decided it wasn't important enough.

—mmm, not thinking about that. nope. ) which is kinda annoying. ( beat. ) Do you have a knife?

[There was a moment where Noctis contemplated getting knives, if not just for self-defense. But the guy butting in kind of snapped him out of it.

Salesman eventually gives up and leaves, especially after the glare he got.]

...Thanks. He was very persistent. [The guy saved him from spending money ridiculously.]

[Well, she's having luck because sometimes Noctis is oblivious to what kind of impression he leaves on people. Aside from his title, he knows exactly how that goes. But this girl has no idea who he is so, from her reaction, he thinks that he startled her or something.

And he can't help raise an eyebrow, along with the walkman.]

This thing? Unless someone sends us threatening, prerecorded tapes, there won't be many clues here.

[But he won't be that rude, and turns on his own walkman and frowns at cheesy pop song that plays. Is it pop? Sounds like it to him.]

( And Jesse stares right back at him, exactly like a cornered rabbit - or perhaps, more like a cornered animal that could very well turn suddenly vicious. Bracing for the guy to make some kind of threatening move. The bizarre dream he's just been ripped awake out of swims in loud vivid color through his confused panic, making it difficult for him to think. Heart jackhammering in his chest and breath shaky with adrenalin, Jesse zips a glance down at the knife clutched in the guy's hand, zips back up to the guy's face. "You're fine"? Fine?! )

Yeah? ( Snapped with a vehemence he's managed to summon from within the fear somersaulting in his gut, ) Then, how 'bout getting that knife outta my face?

( Jesse follows her glance to the letter she's holding. They've been nice enough to offer a way out? Nice. Ha. Yeah. Real fucking nice being trapped in some motel room he has no memory of winding up in. Real fucking nice what they - whoever "they" are - suggest as a means to escape. )

I already read it. ( Jesse shifts his weight on the spot, wiping his sweaty, slightly shaky hands down the sides of his jeans. Shit, man, what happened to this girl? She's so damn pale, and that mark around her throat... Jesse swallows, hard. His tongue is dry and rough like sandpaper, sticks to the cottony roof of his mouth.

Fuck it. He decides to reach for the letter and read it again: eyeing the girl, a glance skimming off that savage mark around her throat, Jesse takes a step forward with a hand outstretched, takes it, turns it around the right way to read it, again. A humorless grimace of a smile splits across his face. )

Heh, yeah, real fucking nice of 'em to offer us a way outta here. ( The paper rustles as Jesse jerks it up to hold it out, facing her. ) The hell is this voodoo blood sacrifice bullshit, yo? "A handprint of blood"? What about a key, yo?!

A skinny young guy trudges slowly up alongside her, hands burrowed deep in his two-sizes-too-big-jeans pockets, a lackluster nervousness hanging about him. He comes to a stop, stares at the map. He's a pale and pasty sight, dark tired circles under his eyes. Looks like he needs to sleep for about a month. Looks like he needs a good feed. Smells ripe, a sickly stench of filmy sweat, like he needs a long, hot shower. He stares at the map, lost, defeated. On edge, fidgety, trying to ignore the way his skin itches and his stomach cramps and his body aches and nose runs, like he's coming down with the flu. He's definitely coming down, but not with that.

"This is fucking bullshit, man," comes a low, scoffing mutter to himself, almost under his breath but loud enough to be heard.

( A huge, juicy, fat-dripping burger clutched in his skinny hands (one of his hands inked with a tattoo), Jesse halts with his mouth wide, teeth about to sink into it for another bite. He cuts an interrupted glance at the girl, yellow mustard smeared like a half smile along the side of his lips. There's still a mouthful of burger from his last bite that he hasn't fully chewed and swallowed yet, stuffed into his cheek like a chipmunk. Gross. )

Umngh... ( "Um", that's meant to be. He aborts biting into his burger, chewing, working his jaw quickly. He looks like a giant kid with the way he's eating; he's got way too much in his mouth. ) Uts ugh burghbr?

( "It's a burger". In the cardboard tray in front of him on the table he's seated at, messily dolloped with burger mess and oil, is a tangle of fatty fries. And next to that, a tray with four sugary cinnamon donuts and a large takeaway cup of soda. )

V didn't really have any intention of fighting - he had weapons on him and he hadn't reached for any - but it seemed like squaring up to him was the right move. The posturing was something that V understood and at least seemed relatively universal and he could at least have some level of respect for someone who was willing to square up to him.

He was waiting for their response and was mildly thrown by the way they grew distracted. His posturing lost some of the bravado and his gaze shifted away from Wren. This was a problem that V didn't know all that much on, really. He'd heard of the carnage that cyberpsychosis could wreck and he knew that there were occasions MaxTac had to be called, and he knew what he'd learned from talking with Regina on it, but he was ultimately just a hired hand meant to disable them so that Regina could try to work on a cure.

"It's an illness. Don't know what causes it, exactly, but seems linked with people who install a shit ton of cyberware or turn themselves into borgs. They start killing everyone."

He seemed like he had another thought he might add to what he'd already said but ultimately closed his mouth, keeping that thought to himself. He was smart enough to find a correlation between possible depersonalization and psychosis but he certainly wasn't trained in any sort of capacity to actually talk about it, so he wouldn't. Besides, that correlation implied that he was at least partly on the way to it himself, and he really hated the idea of that.

[ But soft. What light through yonder mass of skaters breaks? It is the east, and Ed is once again basically the whole entire sun. You know. Based solely on how much Stede's face lights up once he goes from "why am I being yelled at, am I not minding my own business" to actually clocking where the shouting comes from.

Stede was already having a good time being somewhat ferally gung-ho in a skating rink. This is truly a transcendental addition to the mix. It's the most important thing that's happened to him all day including the kidnapping and weird blood sacrifice door. ]

Ed!

[ If he forgets that he's over here struggling to even stay on his feet while he shuffles onward and ~familiarizes~ himself with the whole, process, that's-- well, it's everyone's business right now, because he makes this mistake in public. So instead of dramatically meeting Ed halfway, Stede nearly eats shit. He has to haul his way back to properly upright really quick, looking like his feet have committed the ultimate betrayal.

So instead, he successfully sticks one arm up and also waves, in full "I sure still am over here in case you've lost the forest for the trees, or the singular tree for the forest as the case may be."

Which is basically the same as lighthouse symbolism, really. Except for the part where it very quickly dissolves into Stede just sort of reaching out to make a squinchy grabby hand gesture directly at Ed, once he gets close enough to spot easily. Beauty. Grace. Elegance. Both of them are the opposite of cringe actually.

There is zero point where he worries about the chaos Ed leaves behind in the skating traffic. ]

Wren was instantly abashed, anger (misplaced as always) snuffed out like a candle in a wind tunnel. Sure, they had meant insult with that comment, but there was a huge difference between a casual cutting remark and a below the belt sucker punch. Especially against someone who had previously not been bothered by anything said. And it had seemed like a sore spot, even though V looked fully human as far as Wren could see even if he had a tech 'aesthetic'.

They didn't recognize all the words V said, but with a moment to think and the context clues of what they could understand they were pretty sure they were able to piece it together, brow furrowing a bit as they mentally worked through it - and then those tattoos got a second look.

… Wren's powers had vanished, but what had happened to other people who might be more than human? Wren couldn't be the only one dragged in here.

"... Like RoboCop?" Wren asked after a moment of somewhat awkward silence, just to make sure they were on the right page.

Okay so - Wren's storyline involves a lot of anger issues that run in their family and were the reason for their father's downfall and them kind of over-correcting into the other direction to deal.

So I was thinking - it's more than just when they get angry, but when they get angry and bottle it up rather than deal with it (a bad habit of theirs) something bad happens when it boils over. Literally blank out and just get violent. And at first it takes a bit of bottling up before that happens, but with every subsequent explosion it takes less and less before the next one?

Thank you! Once I remember something I don't forget! Well... usually.

[It still feels a bit weird, but Wren's right, once you get moving it's easier to keep balance and he thinks he can keep going straight like this.]

And Magic Wheel? It's, uh like a motorcycle I guess, except it has like magic circuits and a magic engine, so it's a million times better!

[Oh don't get him started on this obsession of his. Otherwise, he'll be talking about Magic Wheels~~or Blastcycles~~ all day.]

No need. We've had a lot of those guys come door to door back home. You learn to see through the tricks eventually. It's easy to get wrapped up in it.

[There are some things Deuce will be easily swayed by when it comes to money, but not salesmen.]

Besides, we probably don't need knives if we're staying in a hotel right? And I think they better knives for like, outdoorsy things.

Hopper was leaning against the barrier that separates the interior social area from the actual rink. It wasn’t that he had never learned to skate — he learned when he was a kid — but he hadn’t tried in years. Moreover he’d assisted ambulance crews in Hawkins on some of the more severe accidents that occurred at their roller rink and he wasn’t eager to becoming an accident himself.

… The bigger you were, the harder you fell, after all …

He was good at watching over people, though. There was something soothing about seeing the crowd flow in a circular motion around the finished floor.

[ Ohh. That's onto something. There's no way some of these people haven't done this sort of thing before.

Which Stede honestly hadn't really thought about. He went very worst-case, everyone must be relatively new to this yet here some of us are struggling. Not that the solidarity of joint struggling hasn't been nice. It's just a helpful perspective. ]

Oh, I have no idea what it is. [ And that's kind of thrilling and mysterious! Mysteries are loads of fun. ] I suppose they're not a very rare treasure around here if they're giving so many of them away. But seeing as we've never heard of it before, it sounds like it's gonna be a rare treasure to us. You and I are really coming out on top tonight!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 20 of 31

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

no subject

no subject

asfdasjf thank you; i love yours too, clever use of the moniker

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

thank you ;;

Danganronpa Spoilers

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

mallrats

mallrats

no subject

a reunion as cool as they are 😎

have I been waiting for a chance to say "like robocop?" no comment.

Re: CURSE BRAINSTORMING

no subject

no subject

Roller Rink

no subject