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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

1 / a blood offering

[ This was a step up from bleeding out on the floor of Starcourt Mall, and that was about the only thing keeping Billy from flying into a rage and trying to break through the walls with his fists right now.

The whole blood offering thing rubs him the wrong way, but luckily enough there's someone else in the room with him. He reads the letter, sets it down, and cracks his knuckles. ]

Alright, amigo. Let's get this over with.

[ He means 'I'm going to punch you so we get enough blood', but whether or not his fellow abductee interprets it that way is up to them. ]

2 / roller rink

[ This was stupid. Roller rinks were stupid. What are they, ten years old? He'd rather be hanging out in the back alley behind this place right now, in all honesty. But a free walkman was a free walkman, and lord knows he can't abide by someone thinking he's scared or can't skate if he sits it out.

He's not exactly...good at this. Good enough not to fall on his ass, sure, but he's barreling through without much regard for the other patrons. ]

Coming through! [ He shouts from just behind someone else, and that's their only warning that he's about to crash right into them if they don't swerve out of the way ASAP. ]

3 / mallrats (outside the mall)

[ Malls don't exactly hold a lot of positive memories for Billy right now. On one hand, he knows that this isn't Starcourt, and on the off chance that thing that was inside of him is here, he can't feel it anymore.

But gift card or no, he can't manage to drag himself inside. There's this lingering, irrational fear that as soon as those doors open he's going to be right back where he was before he got dragged here. So instead, he just leans up against the wall near the entrance with his arms crossed, a lit cigarette between his lips.

He's just taking a smoke break, that's all. He'll go inside after this cigarette is done. Or maybe just one more. ]

wildcard

[ anything goes, feel free to hit me up at dandymott for plotting ]

[ This is a lot. All of it. Fortunately, he's at least arrived with the usual pack of cigarettes in the breast pocket of his EMT's uniform, a small blessing—he adjourns himself shortly after visiting exactly one store to take a smoke break and try to get a handle on his nerves.

They're making him pay for what he did, and the Mayor is in the right. He doesn't want to despite the moral understanding that he should—nobody wants to be cursed or punished or whatever else, on a more animal level of instinct, no matter how just they know it is. He can't shake the desire to survive any more than he can shed the desire to face retribution, so here he is, fumbling for a cigarette before he's even out of the automatic doors of the mall.

He's not alone when he lights a smoke and takes the first drag— as he gets closer, he realizes that the other figure loitering in the same space is a teenager. Not a concept he ever really had, but too young to smoke, they now know. Nobody really should, apparently, but at least he's 33 and already dead.

He turns his head to address the boy, letting his own lit cigarette hang between two fingers (mercifully bloodless for the time being). ]

Hey. You shouldn't do that. You're too young to smoke.

[ The uniform might lend some authority, were it not for the fact that here he stands, also smoking. ]

[ The uniform only sets him on edge, but he manages to stay cool, clenching one fist behind his back as he takes a nice, long puff on the cig for dramatic effect. ]

I'm eighteen, last I checked.

[ And he's been smoking for almost three years now, which was definitely too young to start, but health and safety have never been Billy's number once concern. ] You gonna confiscate them?

No.

[ Eighteen. He doesn't look eighteen, in Vasiliy's opinion—a few years younger than that, maybe. Probably lying about his age, though it's not really any of his concern beyond the obligation he feels to say something. ]

They kill you. There's tar and chemicals.

[ And whatever else. He's never looked at an ingredient list—what would be the point? Half the shit they ingested and breathed during his own developmental years sentenced them to death, but it's not like the workers in Petrograd had a choice in the matter, and as for the cigarettes—everyone smoked back then, just like everyone drank back then. Unlike this kid (presumably), they didn't know better.

He probably still would have done it even if he did. He's never tried to quit, after all. ]

And they'll turn your teeth yellow. Don't.

Yeah, yeah, we've all seen the anti-smoking PSAs.

[ And in Billy's case, they only made him want to smoke even more. He's young and dumb and, like many teenagers, thought he was immortal, so being told not to do something just emboldened him.

It still emboldens him now. ]

I'm already dead, man. [ He nods in the direction of Vasiliy's cigarette. ] What's your excuse?

[ Me too. He doesn't say that, though, nor does he comment on the fatalistic remark, familiar though the logic may be. We all die someday, what difference does it make, the sort of thing an American teenager with no real grasp of how slow or terrible a death can be constructed to be would say: and even though this guy hasn't said those exact words, Vasiliy gets the distinct sense he's thinking them. ]

I'm Russian. We all smoke.

[ Or damn near everyone, at least. He remembers a few holdouts, but for the most part, those who didn't smoke cigarettes just ingested their tobacco some other way. It wasn't that much different in the Russia he woke up to, either. ]

[ continued here! ]

[ Deely comes out of the mall laden with wares, most of which are the sticky hands she traded her tickets for at the arcade. She has six of them, plus a tiny Beanie Baby on a keyring, which she's swinging around her index finger when she spots him. He looks very edgy over there with his mullet and his cigarette, edgy and teenaged, like he's about to stick it to the man any second now. He reminds Deely a little of herself, the way she used to loiter outside studio lots and chainsmoke between scenes, which is why she decides to head his way. Also, god, she'd love a smoke. ]

Hey. Wanna trade? I got six sticky hands and this fucking thing.

[ She wiggles the keyring enticingly. It's a weird rainbow animal that could either be a cat or a lemur. ]

Those things're for chicks.

[ Which means he isn't taking the keychain, or the sticky hands (which aren't for chicks but they are, in his mind, for babies), but he offers her a cigarette anyway, free of charge. He was sure he'd find himself wanting for one someday, and no one would share with the guy who had a reputation for being stingy with his cigarettes. ]

Here.

[ Deely offers him a tight-lipped nod of thanks as she takes the cigarette. Lucky for him, it's in her head now: Mullet Guy isn't a stingy asshole. ]

Beanie Babies are for everyone regardless of gender, by the way. You're missing out if you think otherwise.

Beanie Babies? Is that really what they're called?

[ He shakes his head and takes another puff of his cigarette. He wouldn't be caught dead with a Beanie Baby. ]

Yeah, 'cause they're babies and they're filled with beans. Look at this thing. It's so cheap and stupid.

[ She leans a little closer to waggle it near his face with some intensity. ]

[ continued here! ]

[ Eddie's a pretty deep sleeper - the trailer park was always noisy and he likes to sleep until noon whenever he can. Sometimes it takes him a bit to wake up properly, but waking up in an unfamiliar bed to an unfamiliar voice makes him sit up straight with a gasp. Once his eyes focus on the stranger, he frowns, taking short, shallow breaths. ]

Hargrove? What the hell are you doing here?

[ You're supposed to be dead, he thinks, but he's worried if he says it then Billy'll make sure Eddie's the dead one. He's pretty sure the guy can smell fear. Instead, he scoots over to grab the letter from the night stand, squinting to read the print.

Well, shit. He would get put in the spooky goddamn blood room with the guy eager to make anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way bleed. Who may or may not be dead. Wait. Are they both dead? ]

Whoa, dude. Whoa. You're just gonna -- take this shit at face value? C'mon - there's gotta be a less barbaric way to get this done. Right? I can pick the lock, I just need a pin or something.

[ From the floor, near the foot of the bed Eddie wakes up on, comes a groan. Steve's not really sure what it is that wakes him up, maybe it's the voices in general or maybe it's the nagging feeling that one of them sounds just too much like Eddie and Steve would rather be awake then fall into whatever nightmare that's about to lead into.

Joke's on him, apparently, because as he sits up, confused look on his face, he finds himself not actually looking at Eddie but at Billy Hargrove. And then at Eddie. And then at Billy again because while both of them are dead, Steve actually saw Billy die. But Dustin had been with Eddie and there's no way he'd lie about that. ]

- Wait, am I ... Dead?

[ And how the hell did he even die in the first place? He stands up, admittedly glad he's closer to Eddie. ]

Wait wait wait ... Why are you picking locks? Are we locked in here?

Read the letter, prettyboy.

[ Billy folds the letter up and flings it in Steve's general direction. Lock picking seems to be the furthest thing from his mind as he gets up and walks to the door, giving it a fierce tug. And, just for good measure, he rams into it with his shoulder.

Doesn't even budge. He shrugs. ]

There you have it. Let's rough Munson up and go. [ Not that he and Steve are on good terms, but neither of them are on good terms with Eddie (as far as he knows, anyway) and the two jocks kicking the local freak around just seems to be the natural order of things here. ]

[ Eddie heaves a small sigh of relief as Steve makes himself known. Never would he ever have conceived of the day he felt safer knowing Steve Harrington of all people was there. That sucks for Steve, though, because - ]

I seriously think we all might be dead.

[ He visibly winces as Billy slams against the door, all too aware of the fact that he's his next target. How much blood is enough for a handprint? Because Eddie knows for a fact Billy isn't going to go for the minimum amount of violence here. The only thing that saved him from most of the jocks in school was selling most of them their party favors, and he's fresh out of those. ]

Steve -- I swear to god if you side with him over me I'm never helping your ass ever again.

[ The letter falls to the floor and Steve stoops over to pick it up, reading it while Billy starts throwing himself at the door. He reads it a second time, for good measure, his lips moving along as he does.

He's about to ask if Billy and Eddie really buy into this when Billy offers up his solution. ]

What? No. We're not doing anything to Eddie, you psycho.

[ Seriously. He looks at Billy with a look that clearly asks what's wrong with you, then motions to himself, letter still in hand. ]

I'm not dead! You're dead - [ directed at Eddie ] - and you're dead, thanks by the way - [ that one directed to Billy ] - but last I checked I was still alive. Hawkins? Absolutely screwed. Me? Still there. And if we're all dead then how can we even bleed? Right?

[ Can one of you back him up here?? ]

[ You're dead. Those words make him tense up, inhaling sharply. Of course he's dead, but he doesn't feel dead right now and the last damn thing he wants to think about is how fucking dead he is. ]

Christ. You two'd starve to death trying to pussy out of this if you were here alone.

[ Billy shrugs, hands in his pockets, almost relaxed. Until a split second later when he's winding up a swift punch aimed square at Eddie's face. Billy's a berserker, unpredictable, one second he's calm and the next he's laying into you. The punch is nothing that'd knock him out, just enough to hopefully make him bite his tongue or get a nosebleed.

Pain's not so bad, he thinks, if it's in the heat of the moment and you just get it over with. It's the anticipation that's killer. He's doing Munson a favor by getting it out of the way, if anything, because if a fight breaks out between the three of them he's the clear loser. ]

[ The relief that hits him when he realizes Steve is on his side is short-lived. Though they very well may be friends now, that doesn't rid them of the raging bull in the room. Eddie's about to protest again, because not wanting to get his face smashed to a pulp doesn't make him a pussy, okay - but Billy's fist beats him to it, hitting him in the nose and knocking him back onto the bed. ]

Ow -- what the fuck, dude?

[ Eddie cups his face with both hands as he sits up again, his head spinning from the impact. Sure enough, he can feel blood dripping from his nose, down his lips and chin. Surely it'll be enough to make a hell of a mess, or in this case, a hand print. ]

Does it say where to put it? Do I just touch the door? Fuck, you didn't have to hit me that hard!

[ His words come out a little congested, but he's not in a position to care. He whips his head around to try and spot a tissue box, something, anything to keep him from just bleeding all over the room in the process. There's nothing, so he keeps his hand cupped under his chin as he gets up to approach the door, catching the blood as it continues to fall. Then, he switches hands, pressing the bloodier one against the center of the door. ]

Here goes nothin'. Steve - can you get me - toilet paper or - something? Jesus.

[ Steve catches on to what’s about to happen a second too late to stop Billy’s fist from connecting with Eddie’s face. He can’t help the wince. He knows what that feels like, and, really, Eddie’s lucky Billy seems to just end it at one hit. ]

What the hell is wrong with you?

[ Steve shoves Billy out of the way, even though he wants to deck him in his stupid face. He could probably hold his own a little better now than he did back then, but it doesn’t mean he’s angling for a rematch.

Behind him, Eddie’s fumbling around and bleeding everywhere. It’s the only reason he steps away from Billy, already going to get toilet paper when Eddie asks for it. He comes back with the whole roll, some of it already wadded up for Eddie to use, and if Steve puts himself between Eddie and Billy then he’s not actively aware of it.

He’s too focused on Eddie’s handprint on the door. His stomach turns a bit, thinking about how Eddie must have looked after the bats got him, and he distracts himself by reaching for the doorknob. ]

Do you think we just … Turn it?

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driving - 2022-08-24 02:25 (UTC) - Expand

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driving - 2022-09-04 21:38 (UTC) - Expand

[An indoor market, she's been told. But a modern one, and so far modern was a lot louder than London ever got. It's bright out here in all of the lamp light. Shoving her hands in her pockets, the young woman walks toward the entrance, looking up at the neon sign in wonder.]

How do they do that, d'you know? Make the light all sorts of colors and shapes?

[She's not stupid. But incredibly out of time and place.]

Oh! Is that a cigarette? I've never seen one in person- can I try it? [She looks up at Billy with a sweet smile. If he says no, he'll probably find himself without the whole pack in a matter of minutes.]

[ He looks up at the neon sign and shrugs. ] They plug it in.

[ Not exactly the comprehensive, scientific answer, but Billy's not one for figuring out the intricacies of neon lights. Ask him about cars and he'll have a better answer.

He laughs out loud when she asks for a cigarette, and takes one out of his pocket. It's not healthy to start 'em this young but it is hilarious and Billy didn't have two fucks to give about being a good role model. ]

Knock yourself out, kid. [ He offers her the cigarette. ] You need a light?

Plug... it in? [She raises an eyebrow. That makes no sense to her, but then again, most of this place doesn't. Cigarettes, at least, do, and she happily takes one from him.]

A light? Oh! Yes, please. I don't have any flint on me. [That's how you light fires.]

But I'm hardly a kid. Back at home, I dare say there are some who consider me their mum.

[ continued here! ]

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

billy hargrove / stranger things

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