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

If you have any questions about the TDM specifically, ask them here. General questions about the game can be asked on the FAQ.

Need ideas for a curse? Have an idea but want to workshop it a bit? Post here and other players can jump in to help you out!

See the FAQ for information about curses.

i. blood offering;

What kind of sick joke is this?

[ Steve, of course, ignores the cryptic note. He jiggles the doorknob, then pulls, then pushes. He looks visibly annoyed as the door doesn’t give, maybe even a little embarrassed, too, as he glances back at the stranger in here with him. ]

There’s probably something we can use to jimmy it open.

[ Which is what he says as he starts opening drawers and the closet, looking for maybe a crowbar or a toolkit or some other random object someone might have left behind by chance. Steve doesn’t believe for a moment that they need blood to get out of here. It’s a fear tactic at best.

Right? ]

Maybe we can pick the lock?

[ Because it’s bullshit. Right??? ]

ii. roller rink;

[ It’s not really Steve’s thing, but, hey, why not go to a party thrown by some jerk who made you bleed to escape a locked room? Makes total sense. But the idea of meeting people is too appealing to pass up. Steve is, after all, a sociable person and he doesn’t exactly want to feel alone in this place. So he accepts the invite and goes.

As he takes his skates and sits down to put them on, he snorts. ]

Just one lap? Not much of a challenge.

[ Though he does glance to the rink, just to make sure there’s not any unseen traps lurking. ]

Guess this place doesn’t have great skaters.

iii. mall rats;

[ The best place in any mall is arguably the food court. Steve would rather spend his money on a pile of questionable mall food and hang around there than actually go shopping, and he's sure as hell not going to the arcade (no offence to people who like arcades).

Besides, everyone knows the cool people hang out in food courts. That's just cool people law or something.

So there he is, sipping a milkshake obnoxiously loudly. It's no U.S.S. Butterscotch but he figures it's fine, finding a weird and surprising comfort in seeing another ice cream parlour. He'd hated his job at Scoops but in hindsight it maybe wasn't so bad. And Starcourt had been a cool mall before it turned out to be a cover for all the shady shit. Steve's determined to let himself enjoy it. ]

Hey, you should try the burger place. [ Said helpfully to anyone looking around at their options. ] Great fries.

iv. wildcard;

Choose your own adventure. Any prompt or anything you’re feeling that isn’t up there, go crazy~ The world is our oyster.

Edited 2022-08-21 00:45 (UTC)

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 ]

☞ 001. NO-TELL MOTEL !

[ Deely's already read the letter on the nightstand, and has come to the conclusion that whoever wrote it must think she's dumb as shit. In-fucking-sane, she is not doing that under any circumstances. What is this, a Saw trap? No. She's just gonna sit right here, reclined on this outdated old bed with her arms folded across her chest, lips pursed, and wait until "The Mayor" gives up with this crazy bloodletting shit. She's stubborn as hell and will dig her feet even when most other reasonable people would have long ago capitulated. Deely can outwait anyone. ]

Hey, I just had a great idea: fuck this.

☞ 002. ROLLER ROAST !

Don't worry, you look so cool right now.

[ Deely's hanging out by the side of the rink, elbows on the low wall that surrounds it, watching everyone who's decided to throw caution to the wind, hop in there and start rolling. Deely herself has no intention of joining them, at least not yet; she'd much rather hang out on the sidelines, slowly erode people's self-confidence by yelling stuff at them, and possibly witness a few pratfalls. Much more fun. ]

I bet nobody else can tell it's your first time. You're barely shaking at all!

☞ 003. PINBALL WIZARD !

[ Pinball was always Deely's favourite game in an arcade. This does not mean she was ever good at it. At this point it's basically a money pit into which Deely is pouring that $100 she was so graciously given for showing up, but it's kind of like gambling, in that she simply can't seem to stop herself. When someone comes up to the machine, whether it's to stand in line or just to watch, she doesn't look up from the ball bouncing around inside. ]

There's like a million other games in this place, why don't you make like a bee and— Aw, shit! [ Her last ball drops into the hole and disappears, and the machine plays a frankly depressing little stinger. ] That was your fault.

☞ 005. FASHION SHOW !

Oh, wow, this place is awesome.

[ Judging by the tone of Deely's voice, it's pretty clear she thinks exactly the opposite as she's standing outside Oblivion, which looks to her like Hot Topic before it started selling Disney merch. She has her arms folded as she stares at the window display, taking in the mannequin wearing a trenchcoat, a studded belt and a pair of black pants so tight they look painted on. ]

I've always wanted to look like Neo from The Matrix trying to sneak into an R-rated movie.

☞ 005. WILDCARD !

[ character info here, sorry it's still a wip. tl;dr: late 90s child actor is now washed up adult with way too much trauma. hit me up

crowders if you wanna do something else. ]

Edited 2022-08-20 20:12 (UTC)

a blood offering

It’s not the realization that he can’t remember falling asleep that’s most distressing. Matt scarcely sleeps any more. If it’s not his own tormented guilt keeping him awake, it’s the sounds of anguish from those around him — the ones they don’t even know he can hear. But when the dream comes to an end, everything is quiet now. The stillness is beyond that which he’s ever known. It’s that gentle sense of tranquility that brings Matt Murdock lurching to consciousness. For a man who’s used to an incessant cacophony of sounds and scents and vibrations, the total absence of anything at all is all the proof he needs that something is terribly wrong.

Not entirely nothing; not exactly. The bed beneath his shoulders is softer than anything he’s known in months, and the carpet between his toes is plush and warm. It’s a far cry from a prison cell. Under a different set of circumstances entirely, Matt might even call it hospitable. But with the steady realization that he is blind — well and truly without sight — it’s hard to appreciate these little niceties.

His first instinct is to reach out for anything with which to orient himself, but the particulars of his current environment are further away than they’ve ever been. Matt stifles his instinct to call out. He can hear his own hands on his skin, but not his heartbeat, nor the heartbeat of anyone else. If there is anyone at all. Head swimming with static, he takes one bold step forward and promptly rams his shin into the nightstand. The table lamp sways ominously, then crashes to the floor and shatters.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The Man Without Fear. Who would believe it now?

mall rats

What better way to get to know his new confines than through a little bit of retail therapy? Matt certainly has a taste for the finer things, and after his stint in prison he's not apt to say no to a bit of shopping. Especially with the offer of a gift card. It's something of a trial by fire for the man, when the world around him seems so flat and so dull. But he takes his time to learn his surroundings as he browses.

paradiso

No surprise that among the first of what Matt locates is one of the most extravagant clothing stores the mall has to offer. It'll drain the entirety of his gift card to accessorize his feet alone, but that doesn't stop Matt from flicking through the racks and running his fingers over the various fabrics.

"What about this one?" Matt asks no one in particular, fishing off the rack a coordinating navy blue double-breasted pinstripe suit with gold buttons. (Emblazoned, of course, with the telltale Paradiso logo.)

Slice 'n' Dice Pizza

It's sure as hell no New York slice, but it's hot and cheesy and a far cry better than anything they serve up from the kitchens of federal prison. Matt's got two slices of cheese balanced precariously on a takeaway tray as he navigates his way through the food court. The cheery music coming from the beckoning indoor carousel is a good homing beacon. Unfortunately, the riders spilling off the little plastic horses are a bit tipsy from their tour, and when one steps in Matt's path he loses the tray and flings those two bubbling slices of pizza splat into the middle of their chest.

wildcard

[Prefer something different entirely? Come at me with whatever you've got.]

[ vasiliy's a former stalin-era NKVD interrogator who played the 'good cop' to coerce prisoners into signing false confessions by acting as though he was speaking to their best interest, executed in 1940 when nikolai yezhov's appointees were purged - who then woke up in the middle of nowhere in the winter of 2015, alive, unscathed, and with documentation claiming he was born in 1985. in the canonpoint i'm pulling him from he's been out in the world for 3 years and has started to come to grips with what he did/started to unlearn stalinism, and is an EMT in chicago in an attempt to feel like he's balancing some of the cosmic harm he did. he comes with warnings for references to the yezhovshchina, torture, etc.; his curse is starting out with randomly bleeding hands as a manifestation of his guilt. it's worth noting that he speaks english despite it being his second language instead of defaulting to russian and letting the world handle it because he knows that his patterns of speaking are anachronistic for someone ostensibly born in the 80s. info here, permissions here. ]

1. MY TUITION'S PAID BY BLOOD (I MIGHT DESERVE YOUR FATE OR WORSE)
blood offering | cw: blood.

[ The blood starts as pinpricks. Brilliant, oxygenated, as though his cuticles have been nicked somehow—one finger, then the next, until his right hand is dripping onto the dubiously clean sheets over his lap. Vasiliy frowns and reaches for the box of tissues next to the fake wood finish radio on the bedside table—then a lump in the covers on the bed next to him stirs. Shit, he's not alone. Fuck. Last time he came back he was alone, in the middle of nowhere, on snow like an organ waiting for transplant. He pulls several tissues and squeezes across as many fingers as he can at the same time, maintaining the pressure even as red propelled by the racing of his heart blossoms across the rough single-ply paper, and waits until the other party starts to sit up. At least being in uniform, the crisp navy blue of a Chicago paramedic's winter dress, might keep them from panicking—and if they do, well, when he frantically patted himself down at the beginning of this his hands quickly located the comforting weight of his sidearm.

He pauses for a split second, mentally assembling the sentence in English before speaking, a conscious effort when his mind is pulled in so many other directions. The words that come out are heavily accented, moreso than usual. Pronunciation or something as trivial as the length of vowels isn't exactly his priority right now. ]

Who are you?

2. LE DANGER IMMÉDIAT ET L'AMOUR FICTION
roller rink.

[ The transition from wheels to blades takes a little effort, initially, like a calf's first few steps in the outside world—but it doesn't take Vasiliy overly long to regain his balance and make the transition from ice skating in Gorky Park in the late 1930s to roller skating sometime in the 80s. Of course, he's hardly as graceful as he would be on a frozen pond, but at least he manages not to wipe out as most of the people around him seem to be doing.

Like the person who starts to lose their balance next to him, swaying back and forth like a sapling in the wind. And down they go—but he snatches their wrist before their ass actually hits the waxed floor, momentarily losing and regaining his own balance in the process. ]

Hey— Are you alright?

3. THESE ARE VERY DIFFICULT AND DANGEROUS TIMES
mallrats | cw: blood.

[ It feels vaguely sacreligious, dressing himself in the high waisted, shapeless American blue jeans that surround him at every turn. It's a symbolic yield, a surrender—conformity leveraged against him, a collective he has no interest in. The denim is heavy, unpleasant against the bare skin of his legs, scraping. He's not much happier with the shapeless cotton tee shirt, but at least that's something he's more used to, something he associates less directly with Reagan.

He carries his EMT's uniform (neatly folded, of course) in the Ruby's bag at his side as he exits the store, though he doesn't get far—he stops dead in his tracks in front of a wall of synchronized home television sets, a million replicas of the same birthmarked face standing before dozens of overlapping news center microphones, his lips moving in the shapes of familiar syllables as English ticker tape runs an unnecessary translation below him. In the corner of the screen: RUSSIAN NUCLEAR THREAT ON THE RISE, as though theirs isn't.

In the split second he catalogues all of this information, Vasiliy doesn't get to mutter under his breath before someone slams into his back, clearly not expecting him to stop in his tracks in the middle of the mall's thoroughfare. He turns immediately, starts to issue an apology—and with the motion of the turn a few drops of blood from the palm of the same hand as back in the hotel room land on their presumably-also-new jeans. ]

Sorry—sorry!

[ Why is it bleeding again? Is this my curse? ]

4. WILDCARD

[ vasiliy's likely to be exploring the place/gathering as much information as he can, with his hands intermittently bleeding despite a lack of visible cuts. if you'd like a starter or want to plot feel free to hit me up here or send a pp to

bluehellgazette! ]

Edited 2022-08-21 01:17 (UTC)

[ 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. ]

one — blood offering

( peter awakens slowly, soft light of the room filtering in between half-opened eyes. he's cosy and without the hangover he'd been expecting to split his skull in two when he'd gone to bed and buried himself in blankets.

he thinks he remembers groot banging on his door and shouting something about the end of the galaxy, or the ship, or something. whatever it had been, it couldn't have been that important because he'd fallen back asleep quite promptly afterwards.

apparently.

he thinks he remembers a dream, something about being cursed and — a city? whatever.

he rolls to the side, pulling the blanket about him before abruptly coming to the realisation that both the bed and the blanket are softer than what he's used to, that he's not on the ryder and—

his eyes snap open.

uggggggh, nope, definitely not the ryder. )

—Morning?

two — mallrats

( it feels like earth and it gives him the heebie jeebies. he's never quite been able to decide how he feels about earth in a specific sense — like, of course he's super grateful that it both exists and continues to exist, and he'd like to help it keep continue doing the latter, but ever since he and kitty ceased to, you know, be an 'and', there's not been a whole lot to tie himself to the planet.

sure, sure, there was the occasional incident with the x-men or the avengers, in the sense that both got involved with messes that they shouldn't and the guardians were inevitably roped into giving a hand, but—

—that was kind of few and far between these days; and the guardians weren't really — much of a traditional group as things stood.

more than that, peter feels like he's just time traveled back to his childhood. he remembers begging his mom to take him to the mall, begging her to buy the coolest, newest toy.

at first, he stands outside playland toys and games, studying the window and trying to work out how much of it he actually, really, genuinely remembers. he moves on, of course, and ends up outside and then inside la pointe.

in one hand, he holds a cassette — tears for fears, the hurting, thanks — and his attention shifts sideways, to the person closest to him. )

And they say that physical media's dumb.

three — i do what i want, network

un: quill
Now that we've done the 'raise your hand if you know this one very specific reference from my home planet' thing and the 'wait, did we share an ice cream at the roller rink this one time' thing, there are a few more important questions to answer.

1. Drinkable coffee — no/yes/where?

( that's it, that's the list of questions. )

four — wildcard

( want to do something else or approach a prompt in another way? totes go for it! pm me if you want to run through anything. )

Edited 2022-08-20 21:15 (UTC)

[ 1 ]

[It was quiet. That was the first thing she noticed. And she wasn't laying on hardwood floors, though she was definitely horizontal, currently. Nell's eyes flick open a few times, frowning softly as she did so. For a moment it all seemed like a dream, walking in the doors of Hill House, being comforted by the faces of family. Of Arthur... The climb of the spiral staircase... No, she wouldn't think of that, not right now.

For the room she was seeing now reminded her of the hotel room she was staying in hours earlier. Maybe a different suite, since she always seemed to choose the same one that her dad chose all those years ago. She sits up, legs swinging over the side of the bed, hand going up to her sore throat. Eleanor tries to keep her head as still as possible in order to keep her neck from hurting as she looks around, eyes alighting on the letter.

It's as she gets up to get the letter to read it that she notices in the mirror that she's still wearing her mother's dress. Freezing in place, her hand drifts down from her throat to the fabric below, fingers tangling in it. She swallows the whimper building in her throat, tearing her gaze from the mirror, from the tell-tale rope marks on her neck...

She forces a smile on her face, though it looks pained... Or tired. Really, either one. But nonetheless, a smile on her face as she looks at her unfortunate roommate.]

You too?

[ 2 ]

Whoa! [Eleanor flails as she tries to regain her balance, grabbing onto the nearby railing and—quite possibly—you in order to keep upright. She stands there for a few moments, trying to keep the wheels under her still for just long enough to catch her breath.

In... Out...

Okay. She pulls herself closer to the railing, having let go of whomever she might've grabbed before, straightening as she does so.] You'd think I'd remember how to do this better... [She tucks some hair behind her ear, looking down at the roller skates on her feet.] Then again, I think I learned on roller blades. And definitely not in a dress.

[Or, if she had, it was a much shorter dress. Mayhaps a skirt or a skort, given the time. She turns her head towards the main skating direction.]

At least I'm halfway there.

[ 3 ]

[You'll find Eleanor this time browsing the racks at Ruby's in an attempt to find something other than a dress more suited to lounging about in a boudoir. She's almost mindlessly moving hangers, not really seeing the clothes. But at least she's finally found shoes!!!

Finally, there's a fabric in the rack that makes her pause, pulling her attention to it as she pulls it off the rack. It's a dark red-colored cable sweater, nothing too heavy weighted. But it looks and feels cozy. And cozy is what she's after right now. And thankfully:] Just my size.

[She smiles softly, a truer smile than she'd worn earlier, and drapes the sweater over her arm, looking around the store and speaking more to herself than anyone else.] If I were a t-shirt...

[ WILDCARD ]

[Wanna do something fun with curses? Maybe wander in a few of the stores and window-shop? Heck, she'll take food even! Hit me up here, PM, or try

gloryfalling.]

[ 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. ]

[ Fortunately, by the time the stranger's grabbed the front of the EMS uniform he arrived in, Vasiliy's mostly gotten a feel for his skates, at least enough to stay upright despite the sudden pull. He lets her catch her breath—and balance—before he actually answers. ]

Me too. I'm more graceful on ice.

[ He follows her line of sight to the other side of the rink—true, she's almost halfway there, but considering how awkward she seems on rollerblades, that's quite a distance. He extends a hand, (thankfully) bloodless fingers spread. ]

Do you want help?

[ 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?

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.

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.

[Rude of her not to apologize, really, for grabbing him. But it is left sort of open-ended for those that don't intend to "catch" her and be an untouched (or ungrabbed) observer. So once she does manage to get herself back under some sort of control, Eleanor does offer him an apologetic smile.]

Sorry, by the way. [Ah, ice skating?] I don't think I'm brave enough to try ice skating. [Hopefully they won't do an ice rink night any time soon. Though given the state of decor, Eleanor has a feeling that technology here isn't as...far forward as what she remembers.

Funnily enough, the skates with their cornered wheels feel more slippery to her versus the straight line of wheels that the blades hold. She glances down at the offered hand and her smile turns a little sheepish.]

You sure? I might drag us both down next time. [But she does lightly take the proffered hand.] Thanks.

1. a blood offering

[ He'd read the note, but not closely - if someone else is in the other bed, Eddie hasn't noticed. He's too busy banging his palms against the door, trying the doorknob again and again. It doesn't so much as rattle. ]

Come on, this isn't funny! Open up already!

[ He's sweating, curling strands of his hair around his fingers as he paces around the room. He'd really like to go back to the life he'd been accustomed to before everything went to hell - smoke and drink and shred on his guitar. He'd been at that bargaining stage where he'd even do his homework once in a while if he meant he never saw the Upside Down again. Maybe, somehow, that was how he ended up here. ]

Blood. Where am I even supposed to put the goddamn blood?

2. roller rink

[ Eddie's just here for the walkman and the walkman alone - this place is a gaudy neon nightmare and the music is an assault to everything he stands for. But if he's going to ever possibly cope with whatever nightmare he's been thrust into now, he's gonna need music. Lots of it. He laces the skates he's been handed as tightly as he can, then struggles to get himself upright again. One lap sounded easy when he got the invitation, but now he's Bambi on the goddamn ice. Even holding onto the railing with a white-knuckled grip, he's barely inching his way forward. ]

Easy does it, Munson. You can do this.

[ His nostrils flare as he sighs. Great, the first impression all these people get of him is going to be that he's a freak and he can't even roller skate one lap. But he trudges on. ]

I'm not the only one who's never done this before, right? When the hell did everyone learn how to roller skate?

[ It's then that he loses his balance, flailing his arms to try and grab onto the railing again but only managing to knock himself on his ass. ]

3. mallrats

[ Hawkins had a mall, once. It was a good place to wander around and meet up with jocks who wanted to buy weed. The Sam Goody's selection sucked but at least they'd special order stuff in once in a while.

Then it'd all gone up in flames, supposedly, and beyond conspiracies and whispers, life went on.

That's what he's looking for now - the record store. Growing up broke means Eddie's of the opinion that if you've got money, you should spend it before it's gone, and this gift card is burning a hole in his pocket. Maybe the routine of flipping through stacks of albums will make everything feel a little more normal.

And then he sees it. Not the record store, but Oblivion. The dark facade and gothic lettering immediately distract Eddie from his mission, and he follows the scent of incense into the dimly-lit boutique. ]

Holy shit, they have shirts for bands I like in here!

4. wildcard

[ Down for whatever tbh! Just getting my bearings on Dreamwidth again after a long hiatus but feel free to hit me up at

leviloser - don't mind how barren it is, lol. ]

[ 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.

[ 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.

A Blood Offering

[When Deuce first woke up, he'd assumed it was all just a dream. The result of too many futile late night study sessions fueled by too much tea. Reality had quickly settled in though and the teenager had started to panic at the realization he'd woken up in a strange room.

Deuce doesn't really register his roommate beyond a quick hello unless they're a fellow classmate from NRC. He's too freaked out to really calm down yet, especially once he realizes they can't get out of the room.

He tries to slam himself in the door with a level of aggression and anger that might seem a bit... much, but well that's just him.]

Damn it! What the hell!?

[He hasn't seen the letter yet, which may or may not be a good thing. Instead, he pulls out the pen in his pocket and tries to cast a spell, because surely if he just summons a cauldron, that will take care of everything!

...why is nothing happening? Why have you let him down, cauldron?]

Roller Rink

[Right now, Deuce is regretting all of his life choices. Because it turns out that despite being naturally athletic, he's not exactly coordinated on roller blades. Like at all. After his fifth terrible fall, Deuce has decided that for now, he's going to cling to the wall. He's not given up of course, because a free walkman is a free walkman. Even though they called it something else in his world. But this place seems low tech enough that it's probably better to have one.]

Everyone's making this look so easy...

Mallrats

[Of course Deuce wasn't going to miss out on a hundred dollars worth of gift cards. His Mom had raised him better than that!

What to get is another matter though. Deuce can't decide if he likes the louder fashion of this world or not. Some of it is tacky and some it is... well really cool?
Deuce is getting one of those leather jackets at least because he misses his old riding jacket back home.

But right now, Deuce is taking a break in the food court, because he's just realized that he's free to eat whatever junk food he wants. He'd been training for the VDC for so long that he forgot what something as normal as a hot dog tasted like. He's smiling around every bite right now.

Would it be wrong to spend the rest of his money on food? Probably. But it's very tempting.]

Wildcard
[Feel free to throw your own prompt at me, or modify any of the above. There are plenty of opportunities to meet Deuce in town and he'll be traveling all over the mall. It should also be noted for the canon familiar, that I'll be sticking to JPN terms unless someone would prefer the NA translation.

Feel free to either pm me on this journal, at

kanetsugu or at my discord, Joy#8142.]

[ 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?

Like who?

[ Steve was pretty easily bribed by the giftcard. Maybe he can find himself a new Members Only jacket, or some Ray-Bans, or something suitably cool. He's not even going to stop and look at Oblivion until he hears her say something as he walks by, and, yeah, of course he has to butt in and find out what she's talking about. ]

What's a matrix?

I. A BLOOD OFFERING

( the dream was certainly odd and waking up in some dusty bedroom was even more odd. but the note definitely took the cake on the oddity scale for maggie. and that is when she decided that she certainly had enough of this bullshit for one day. it's enough that she's recently become a fugitive thanks to the actions of ava fucking ire. she doesn't need to do some weird blood ritual shit as well. )

Hello?! Okay, this is funny and all but also really stupid! Whoever is out there you can just cut it out and actually let us out?!

( there's no answer. of course there isn't. just her luck! realizing that she's actually going to have to do something more than just shout, maggie gets to her feet and gives a quick glance around the room. there's nothing noticablely sharp around which brings in the question of how exactly they planned on getting any blood from anybody. there was no way she was going to willingly slam her head against a wall or anything. but perhaps there would be someone that could...

her eyes go over to her resting roommate. she sits down on the edge of their bed, awkwardly twiddling her thumbs. )

So... how willing are you to give your blood so we can escape?

II. KITCH'N WARES

( spending all of her money inside paradiso was all too tempting. but she also understood that she was in a foreign land without any way to get in contact with tuls. just from arriving here and having that strange dream instead of ending up in the domain of the demon was enough of a hint to have her on edge. any attempts to manifest her powers resulted in nothing so she needed different means to defend herself.

and a knife seemed simple enough. it was light. the only downside is that it was close range.

maggie gives a few test slices against the area around her, quickly coming to a stop when she very nearly slices the unfortunate soul that happens to walk past her. )

Hey! Watch it!

III. NETWORK (UN: LOVELYROSE)

okay so!
just making sure. did the people reading this post have that weird dream?
follow up question if you did: what the heck is up with all the secrecy about this whole curse thing?
is everyone else gonna like gang up on us or something?

IV. WILDCARD

( feel free to throw something at me or contact me via my plurk

graywaves )

blood offering.

[ "Dated" is indeed all a matter of perspective. Stede does not have that perspective. He's a man of particular tastes and also from the 1700s, so he's kind of merely trying to survive right now. Like any weird little man in full aristocratic ensemble and heels with bows on them. Mostly in the sense that he's pretty sure this is either an extensive horrific nightmare he's having or that he's somehow completely gone round the bend into a full mental crisis, but there's someone in this room full of mysterious stuff with him, which means he can't just... like, have his Moment about it.

That would just be poor form.

So clearly the sooner the door is open, the sooner he's alone to try to deal with this whole situation, the better. Hence: dealing with this letter. ]

Oh, that's just impractical. [ Local man valiantly staving off breakdown with a sharpened stick, not actually having too hard a time of it because there's plenty to be offended about in the meantime. ] Clearly someone needs to have a word with this "mayor" about their methods. And, with all due respect, a word about the color scheme in here. That's not even getting into the texture on the towels.

[ Like honestly. Have some taste. Stede claps his hands once, not unlike a well-meaning mediocre manager in the workplace. ]

Right! Best get cracking, then. Give me half a minute to roll my sleeve up, I'm not bleeding all over one of my best coats. [ Especially since it's the only one he... has. Right now. God, he might need to have a cry about that later. Also of import: ] Have you got a knife? I'm afraid I'm missing my usual.

roller rink.

[ Hmm. On the one hand, time has proven that this is maybe not a huge nightmare or elaborate mental construction of his own design. All looks very real, feels very real, he has no idea what's going on half the time, terrifying, horrifying, confusing, complete and utter lack of familiar faces or circumstance, steep learning curve only eased by other people in the same boat and the locals being positive he's from another country.

Which isn't wrong, technically?

On the other hand, it's not Stede's first go at an overnight transition into a lifestyle with which he has zero familiarity or experience, so at least there's that. No, wait. That's barely a positive. So really on the other hand is that there are ways to have fun here. Nothing's as good as what he had going for him back home, of course. But this whole... thing... is definitely happening. Colors! Music! People, he guesses!

Stede shows up, because what else has he even got to do. He gets the roller skates on, he makes it to the rink. He falls down a lot and makes a lot of cartoonish sounds about it until he winds up clinging to the outer barrier and inching his way along. (Which he is ready and prepared to repeatedly describe as "just getting my sea legs".) ]

It's really exhilarating in here, isn't it! [ That's genuine. Never mind how acquainted he's becoming with the floor, or his full inability to comprehend synth music, or the fact that when he gets his walkman he has no idea what to even do with it. Stede looks no less than maniacally pleased about the weird fucking time he's having right now.

Big gremlin energy. ]

Gosh, and a lot of people are awfully good at this already. [ Maybe including whoever he's talking to. Or maybe not, considering his "holding onto something and shuffling" position in the rink. ] I should've asked about lessons.

mallrats.

[ Finally... Stede's area of expertise. Shopping.

He thinks this might actually be his new favorite place. Not ever, seeing how he didn't ask to come here and wants to go back home, but like, maybe his favorite place in this specific town. There's all kinds of neat stuff.

He mostly spends time trying to figure out clothes. It's not a terrible budget to work with, depending on the shop. He has no idea what's "in" around these parts, but it's apparently not like what he's used to? Oh no... how dreadful... to have to try on a lot of things and figure out what he likes... to start building a wardrobe...

Mental and emotional stress whomst. He has pastels and vibrant hues to coordinate. Be wary lest ye be asked for opinions. Or watch in real-time while he learns that bartering is no longer the done thing in retail environs.

The mall is also a good place to try to get a social lay of the land in general, though, it turns out. Get acclimated. That's a really fancy way to say catch Stede sat on a bench and blatantly people-watching while like, teens have messy breakups in the food court or people gossip about their work drama or whatever. Quiet people-watching used to be his whole non-reading hobby of choice.

Or, last but not least, catch him in the appliance store trying to learn how to use half of the shit he keeps encountering in day-to-day situations that most people seem to already be used to. Look, if his first response to trying to figure out a microwave was screaming when it beeped, that's his business. But it turns out there are instruction manuals and demonstrations and a lot of statistics that he has no idea what they mean?

He might be about to stick his hand into a display toaster to get the lay of the land. And if that doesn't explain how likely it is that Stede will be banned from returning to this store by the end of the day, nothing else will explain it. ]

wildcard.

[ or yeah, up for hashing out other scenarios/prompts/etc ✌️ feel free to throw whatever or hmu for plotting! ]

A. A Blood Offering -

He's been through a lot of things. Things that one would consider impossible. So it's not entirely out of the ordinary that he does wake up after a weird dream where someone tells him he's trapped in some place under a Curse.

Waking up in a weird old motel and not safe at home in Atlantis makes him wonder if this is the curse.

"You've got to be kidding me," John rubs his face, sitting up, taking in the rather...unfortunate decor. Did he get captured by aliens again? Aliens who have reached the developmental level of...1980, perhaps.

It takes him another second to realize that there's someone in the room with him.

There's a very long pause, as he stares at the other person.

"Hi."

He waves, like it's any old day.

B. Roller Rink -

So John Sheppard has learned a few things.

One, there's no gate here and no direct way home.

Two, it's very possible that they are actually cursed and therefore, probably do need to stay here until they're no longer affected by it. He's been through enough of these scenarios that he will stay here as long as he needs to, even if he had a choice otherwise. He couldn't risk bringing something like this back to Atlantis.

Three, he hasn't roller skated in ages and he doesn't want to fall and look like an idiot. But a mystery walkman sounds nice (or possibly also cursed) and he needs to get one just in case it's important.

So here is John Sheppard, fighter pilot, proficient in many flying aircraft, eeking his way across the skating rink.

He's fine. A little wobbly. Just don't break his concentration.

C. Mallrats -

Considering most of his teenage years were during the heyday of mall life, this is all very familiar to him. And admittedly, it's kind of nostalgic and all that.

So he's got an ice cream in one hand as he peruses the music selection at La Pointe Music Shop, making plans to maybe go see a movie later. Word on the street was it's chock full of 80's movies so he's gonna take this nostalgia train to the station.

Plus, he can actually buy some cassettes, vinyl and players for them? Score!

"Do they sell posters here?" he asks the nearest person to him absently, while searching through the Johnny Cash cassettes.

D. Cursed - cw: body horror, ptsd

He noticed it when he was playing pinball at the arcade.

It's something that's haunted his nightmares ever since he experienced it, the loss of control, the fear of hurting his friends--his family, and yeah, the actual experience sucked, but what he could have done to them...it's not something that leaves you lightly.

It was an itch at first. He slams his fist against the pinball machine and it buzzes loudly, the TILT, and he reaches up to pull the sleeve of his jacket up.

And then it's there. Just like in his nightmares, just like when it happened.

A scattering of blue and purple around his arm, and a patch of what is literally exoskeleton sitting where he'd gotten bitten the first time.

No. No, that can't be--he's imagining things.

He rushes to a brighter part of the arcade, scrubbing at his arm, his eyes wide.

E. Wildcard - Anything goes!

Edited 2022-08-21 01:05 (UTC)

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 31

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

QUESTIONS

CURSE BRAINSTORMING

Steve Harrington || Stranger Things

billy hargrove / stranger things

deely newberg — original character

Matt Murdock | Marvel 616

vasiliy yegorovich ardankin | original — historical/revenant

#3

peter quill, marvel comics

eleanor vance | haunting of hill house | ota

#3

#2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Eddie Munson || Stranger Things

no subject

#1

Deuce Spade | Twisted Wonderland

no subject

fashion show;

Maggie Lacivi ( Ava's Demon )

stede bonnet | our flag means death

Lt. Col. John Sheppard | Stargate: Atlantis - OTA, will match format!