cursedcontent | TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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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.

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[ He's halfway through lacing his skates when the little slip of a girl wanders over. Woman? It's hard to tell, but she's short. He's still smoking, and he blows out smoke between them, maybe at her a little. Then he gives her a once over. ]

What do you mean, 'what's a walkman?' It's a walkman.

It plays music.

( she says that she might not have heard of the avengers because it's been a couple of centuries and peter concedes that might be the reason, but he isn't about to hedge any bets on it. he's never been their biggest fan for a number of being-dragged-into-shit-he'd-rather-not reasons but his life would (probably) be a bit more difficult if, like, carol wasn't around. either way — the avengers and related parties have been involved in enough high profile earth- and space-drama that peter thinks it's unlikely chapel wouldn't have heard of them.

unless she just really hates history which — fair.

he hums a noise of vague agreement and offers her a wry grin and a shrug, a mix of 'who knows' and 'who cares'.

he casts a cursory glance around the room as he steps inside — it's much the same as the one he'd woken up in, only with one bed instead of two and that's about the extent of the differences, he thinks — beyond, of course, any personal touches by virtue of habitation.

he leans against the sideboard-come-bedside table. )

How's that going, by the way? The several centuries adrift thing. ( a beat, then— ) This is pretty much when I grew up.

( in more than one way — it's hard not to definitively divide your life after cataclysmic events like 'mother being murdered' and 'leaving earth and going to space'. aka quill: the before and after. )

[ All of this could have been avoided with a cut in line. Then everyone — everyone being Rodney — would be happy and safe and not in the crash zone of Billy Hargrove. The anger still feels good, still feels sweet and syrupy, like something he could drown on. And it makes him want to act. ]

Second chances my ass —

[ And then he's stepping forward, ignores what Rodney says as he moves further into his space, because fuck it, he's pretty sure he's just going to kick this guys ass. Who's going to stop him? Maybe he'll get to hear from the Mayor again. Learn something new, let off some steam that tastes like fire in his throat.

When he grabs Rodney by the collar, he notices his hand. The black of the veins, the souring of the skin, and it is briefly enough to save Rodney from his other hand, balled into a fist and ready to strike. It kinda reminds him of — being body-hijacked.

The anger bubbles up again, but this time it tastes like... bleach. Bleach and fertilizer and rot and all that shit that pooled to create that monster. And all that muck bubbles over his lips and it's fetid and gross and his words sound like they're under water. ]

What the fu-hk?

[ Excuses are part of the human experience! Also, lies for why he looks like shit are old hat; just the way things are when you grow up violently poor with criminals and drug dealers in your family. Somewhat less glamorous than Batman pretending to play polo. ]

Ayup. [ Daryl knows his offroad vehicle accidents.

... And then, he simply falls awkwardly quiet, having run out of anything to say. What a weirdo. ]

Fukawa, [ he echoes. No nice to meet you, because this is all bullshit, but it passes as a greeting. (And a mild check to ensure he's saying it right, though Daryl's not that dim, really.)

He eats a few fries while she picks at her sandwich. The salt, the fried texture; he's getting to the point where he's not sure if any of this actually tastes good, or if he's just feeding a starved part of his brain that's withered away since the last time he had a cold Mountain Dew. Taste buds change over time— everything now nearly burns. He eats it regardless.

Anyway. No, he's not much of a talker, and just shrugs at her, for that inquiry. ]

The emotion? Sure. It's a shit world most of the time, ain't it.

[ Besides that, he doesn't know. A beat, and he mumbles something that might be 'gimme a sec', before getting up and going to the nearest food vendor. When he returns, he has a complementary plastic up of water, which he sets down near Fukawa. ]

This'll help. You better eat something, this abduction crap is stressful.

Edited (when will i be free from the word repetition curse ) 2022-09-01 00:18 (UTC)

Yeah. [Probably not one of her smarter choices to watch that one night when unable to fall asleep. She bites her tongue, fighting off the urge to comment that she is (was) a creepy twin. Was his Wanda a twin, too? That leads to a spiral of questions popping into her mind, and she has to shake her head to quiet them.] Let's hope for some more dated decor and nothing worse than that.

[She follows, one hand gently applying pressure to the other palm. It's quiet. Peter asks another question, a good one, and Wanda listens to their out of sync footsteps on the carpeting as she considers how much she wants to reveal.]

A dream. And before then.... [A nightmare. Buried beneath rubble once more.] Well, there's always a villain to fight, isn't there? It was over. What about you?

V wasn't looking at them, not even when they looked at him. He wasn't even thinking of possibilities of trying to save. If there was anything V had learned in the miserable life he'd wasted, it was that things would always end in tragedy. So maybe Freddie wasn't sick here but would rather meet some other tragic end. Or, maybe Freddie lived and some other band would face a tragedy that normally didn't.

Why was he here? He didn't want to be. He just wanted to rest.

"May as well, they're free to you," he said, glad for the shift in conversation. "No point in havin' money if you don't spend it."

He paused a moment to look at a tape of a band he'd actually heard of - Megadeth, for those curious - but had never actually listened to, then glanced up as Wren's comment about their home registered, and then looked to Wren.

"Did you say superheroes?"

Edited 2022-09-01 03:17 (UTC)

A BLOOD OFFERING

[ A strange dream indeed, even though it happened when Jolyne rolled over in her bed her eyes began to slowly open. The fog of waking up didn't last long, because as soon as she was taking in some light there she was shooting up in her bed and dropping out of it when she saw someone else in the next bed over.

This is wrong, this is so wrong.

There's no way she'd be in a cheap Florida hotel room just because, there's no way that was possible in any scenario she could cycle through as she scrambled up and made a b-line for the door. Of course it doesn't open, of course she's somehow locked in here... and missing something that would've been able to help her to break down this obstacle. ]

FUCK!

[ How could that weird dream be real in any way? Why? ]

ROLLER RINK

[ A roller rink party, is there gonna be pizza like in middle school? That would be the least they could do right? Some pizza, a coke and... and what? Ninja Turtles arcade game. Yes.

Of course this situation was still dire, but without her stand what can she do about it other than play along? ]

... So wait, we're getting a prize for simply... doing a lap...?

This is some wacky ass shit, don't you think? Like how is that a real thing? Is Jaws in the rink? Is Jaws gonna pop out and try and chew off my leg? If it's a gator I'll fuckin' lose it... A shark is the lesser of two evils here.

[ She's strapped in those skates, but still finds herself looking out at that rink with great suspicion (who wouldn't?). ]

I mean, the surface seems calm, no sign of the great white anywhere.

MALLRATS

Okay, so I'm not just making shit up, we're definitely in the 80s right?

It's like the mayor was like, Let's do Dawn of the Dead, but make it an 80s shopping mall.. Because in what other scenario are we going to be competing for food and resources? I call dibs on Wetzel's Pretzels if that happens, just saying.

[ She looks down at that gift card, thinking about this for a moment. ]

... So like, is the economy still in the 80s as well? Because if that's the case I can get a lot of shit for just 100$

OOC

[ Hey! This is Kitty, if you want to do anything that isn't in these prompts just hit me with a tag and I'll fall in line. I'm pretty chill and open with anything and everything. If you still want to hit me up with an idea feel free to message me at itachuu ]

It was probably a good thing V asked that last question because otherwise Wren was about to launch into a small lecture on resource management and not being certain if they'd get any other funds to live off of here. Asking about capes though did kind of take precedence.

"Yeah?" Wren said first, like it was the most obvious thing, like V had asked about New York City or firefighters or the concept of basic algebra. Looking back up at V, Wren frowned slightly. "... Masked vigilantes? Some with powers that help them-? Are you kidding is my world the only one that had those?"

Haha oh no king, don't wrap your big strong arms around me...

She doesn't calm on command per se, but she does shut up. Fukawa blinks dumbly at him as she sifts his every expression through endless filters. He's annoyed. Yes? She's annoyed him, of course she has, that's all she's good for really, and she's nowhere near cute enough for such transgressions to be excused.

Her clutch on her skirt tightens.

"Yes," she nods, now averting her eyes. "I did plan to use it for s-something more suitable to this...place." Shithole. "But that can wait if you're hungry! I'm. Well, I'm in no rush to take care of things."

She pauses. Then hurriedly adds, "U-Unless you are! Of course."

((To here!))

Edited 2022-09-05 17:17 (UTC)

[The emotion?]

N-No, I mean...

[Nevermind. That's answer enough, isn't it?

He's excusing himself the very next second, Fukawa barely biting back a protest (don't just leave in the middle of a conversation? Is she that repulsive?). His goal becomes clear at once, so she contents herself with watching his back while he waits in line. She chances a fuller bite than usual.

So. Either not from her world, or so incomprehensibly rural he caught the fallout without knowing what toppled over. How sad that it's probably the former. Being forced to re-examine her core understanding of reality six times since this morning was popping her brain cells. She'd be dead by tomorrow if anything weirder happened.

So, what had done in humanity for him? Nuclear winter? An apocalyptic meteorite? It better not be some stupid Lovecraftian beast.

He's coming back. She quickly pretends she was looking anywhere else, at least until he puts the cup in front of her. Fukawa boggles at it.]

Huh? [She blinks up at him. Was he really so worried? Over a total stranger?] Th-that's not — I'm not stressed out! What gave you that idea? Do I look so haggard to you?

[Her elbows thunk on the table as she hunches tight, yanking at the roots of her hair. She casts a mean scowl to the side. They were surrounded. No reprieve from any angle.]

I just don't like eating around other p-people. I can f-feel their nasty eyes raking into me.

[A fear gleaned less from the end of the world and more from middle school cafeterias. Horror of a whole different sort, that.]

Weird dream, ( peter agrees. not the weirdest but it was up there. ) My ship and, uh, trying to figure out where and why a giant Celestial head-slash-city disappeared from its usual location at the edge of the galaxy. ( it's the long and short of it, anyway — a little more personal drama, some drunk dialling an ex, and a mutiny, but those are most of the important beats.

(aside from the whole gamora kill squad and thanos downloading his brain into someone else thing, but boy, peter is trying is hardest not to focus on either of those two things.) ) You know, the usual.

( a lie. kind of. ostensibly, it's not anything that peter would find unusual — if future him walked up to past him and said 'hey, so gamora's going to go nuts for five minutes, kill you but not permanently, then shit's going to go down, something thanos, something the galaxy', he thinks he'd probably just groan and, like, internally cry or something because of course. this is his life.

it's fine.

he slows a little, attention shifting to the numbers on the doors, discoloured brass and paint that says they building's been here a long time (or the halls have been frequented by smokers. or both.) he thinks of his ship, of groot and bill, phyla and moondragon; of his and wanda's awakening. ) How many others do you think there are?

[ His back is no cleaner than his front; old jeans, a long-lived vest with angel wings sewn into it that have seen better days, a red rag peeking out of one pocket, and, if she's got a keen enough eye, a holster under his pants. But seeing as this is a small town in the 1980s, the fact that he's carrying a gun might actually be one of the least alarming things about him to anyone local sizing him up.

Back at the table, Daryl leans in his chair, still scavenging the occasional french fry. He opts not to give her any feedback on how she looks, because it sounds rhetorical. Even if it wasn't, he knows better than to fall into that kind of a commentary trap with somebody obviously on edge.

Because, gurl. ]

Don't worry about it. They're looking at me.

[ (Like she was.)

It's not currently bothering him, though. He's used to it, and even when he is bothered by this kind of treatment, he's self-aware enough to understand that it's a Him Problem. Right now, he doesn't have the spare energy to be annoyed, owing to the much larger issues taking up space in his head. It is what it is. ]

[Someday someone could probably make a study on the venn diagram that is all the places where 'children from abusive households' and 'teenage superheroes/sidekicks' crossover, except it's definitely not going to look good for one of those groups. Then again, Wren walked away from that life for a reason. They aren't under any illusions of it being a healthy lifestyle that can be maintained with proper mental health.]

Well, give a shout if mall security tries to hassle you and you need backup to prove you're not homeless.

[It's fine to run out of things to talk about. All Wren had wanted to do was to confirm Daryl was okay, and they had managed that. As okay as any of them were, really. They stand and give a nod. They're very good at lying to authority figures.

Another thing to put on that diagram. If Daryl doesn't call out, they'll head on back to their own business at the mall.]

[Wren has already come to understand that they're all from different realities, so the whole 'magic' thing isn't so weird in that sense. And even if Wren doesn't know the specifics... most of Deuce's words can be pieced together for what they mean. They're pretty sure, anyway.]

Ha, yeah, a non-magical motorcycle in a hall of regular mirrors is gonna be dangerous, I'm guessing a magic motorcycle around magic mirrors would be just as bad if not worse. Imagine the mess alone if there's a crash! Do you get cursed or something if they break?

[ A busybody teen is not an unfamiliar presence in Daryl's life, at this point; he's reminded a little of Carl, against his will, and the boy's exasperation while dealing handily with things Rick would rather shield him from. He doesn't want to think about home— where do they think I've gone, what's happening—

So it gets shut out. Instead, he grunts an amused sound of assent. Sure, kid, he'll keep you on speed dial.

Later gator. ]

[ The woman calling herself Deely raises herself to her full height, which is a handful of centimeters greater than his own—not totally surprising. People from the future, especially American women, are bizarrely tall. Still, he doesn't like being loomed over by a woman; it feels unnatural, so jarringly distant from what he's used to.

He doesn't linger long on the thought: there are more important issues at hand, such as what lies on the other side of that door. Not that he plans on opening it with her standing right there, fully exposed. She's a stranger, but he doesn't want to see her get shot. As far as he's aware, other people don't bounce back from fatal gunshot wounds like he did. ]

Get against that wall. [ Vasiliy gestures with the tissue-wrapped hand holding the gun, indicating the wall between the side of the bathroom and the nearer of the two beds. A blind spot for someone coming in from the motel room's one door, and the corner will protect her if whoever may be waiting for them is armed. ]

[She runs her hand through her copper hair, and alas, she comes back empty handed.]

I don't think it's that simple.

Though V would love to argue about money, the idea that someone literally lived in a comic book was so much more interesting to him. Money was the struggle he'd had since he was old enough to be aware that he was hungry. Superheroes, though - that was novel. Were they the same as in comic books? Spectacular people with agents who were so much like rockerboys in terms of fame and political power, contracted to and paid by corporations to push their agendas all in the name of "good"?

So their response - as if he'd just asked a stupid question - put V off a bit, at first, then he considered the entire exchange he'd just had about Queen and Freddie Mercury. He considered how there was what V would consider no technology when, in his home, his arms literally had been replaced with limbs that could turn into swords. He shook his head.

"Can definitely say I don't got those back at home."

Good thing, too. Borgs were enough of a hassle in corporate hands. He couldn't imagine superheroes actually existing and being the enforcers for companies with bad intentions, or even picking a side in one of the many gang wars. He could only imagine the destruction it could cause, the people who were killed as collateral damage. People like him when he was a kid, and his mom.

"Sounds like a hot fuckin' mess. No offense."

( continued » )

[Pre-Jack the Ripper and pre-Little Women. Queen Victoria's coronation, Trail of Tears, and the telegraph. Electricity is very, very rare.]

Alright. You lead the way. I have... no idea what I'm doing. [She can throw a punch. And take a punch. She's been in her fair share of drunken brawls and smashed a bottle over someone's head. But anything more than that? You're SOL.

She looks up at the sign, frowning.]

Should we... [She points]> keep going to the courtyard? Maybe we'll find others there.

I mean, most locks are.

[But, alright. No lock picking.]

Maybe there's a key, then? [She looks in the bedside table drawers first, then spies the piece of paper. She reads it, frowns, and hands it to Wanda.]

It says we need blood t'open the door.

[Weird dream, ship, Celestial... head. Right. Wanda nods, listening, if not understanding. The usual, indeed.]

Depends how big this place is and if we think two people are behind every locked door.

[She pauses to try the handle of one door. It's locked, and when she leans closer to the door, she can't hear anyone inside.]

( continued! )

((Continued here.))

Edited 2022-09-03 15:46 (UTC)

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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i feel that deeply tbh

tw: vomit (sorry this is happening to you rodney!)

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i can edit to wrap up thread since apps are being judged, if you prefer - plurk @coopyey :>

Jolyne Cujoh | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Nah it's a funny question XD (also imma add you if that's okay! @oncemorewithfeeling is me)

No worries, life happens!! I only got to one tag yesterday myself

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<33

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