![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
April-May 2024 Test Drive Meme
April-May 2024 TDM
Introduction
Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.
All TDMs are game canon and work like "mini-events". For new players and characters, you can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Current players are also allowed to have in-game characters post to the TDM so long as they mark their top levels ‘Current Character.’
TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.
Playing and interacting with the TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.
🦊 New Star Children meet the Fox still in their worlds, and she brings them into the new realm of Folkmore. As you follow her, your body begins to change and new characteristics emerge. These may stay for a while, or perhaps they will hide away after. And during all of this, the Fox explains to you where you will be going: to Folkmore.
and then... you fall like a shooting star, falling to the land in a burst of starlight.
🦊 Experienced Star Children are already familiar with this time of the month. There are shooting stars all across the sky, and some fall to the land, which means the Fox has brought new arrivals. These newly arrived Star Children will face some tests, but Thirteen wants the more seasoned residents to participate as well.
Perhaps you follow the falling stars on your own, or perhaps the Fox simply teleports you there, but it appears you too will be part of this.
Content Warnings: Forced Relocation, Forced Sharing, Potential Violence & Harm
New Star Children arrive in Wintermute. Not at the hot springs, the school, or anywhere else near civilization. They arrive in the middle of white, snowy nowhere. The good news is that Wintermute is no longer dark twenty-four seven. There is enough light to avoid crevasses, blocked up wells, and other dangerous features of the landscape. Further, no one is expected to figure out how to get out of there on their own.
Usually Thoth finds the lost travelers in the cold expanse of Wintermute. However, she's busy exploring the multiverse for new and interesting ideas for technology. Not to fret! She hasn't abandoned ye who've entered here. There's a new emergency lost and found network:
The Wandering Dog food carts are now open twenty-four seven! The dogs work in shifts, but the food remains as delicious as ever. When a Star Child gets lost in Wintermute, another Star Child will happen to be buying food from a Wandering Dog somewhere in Folkmore. One such lucky unlucky Star Child gets transported to the School of Thoth. Specifically, to where the mechanical sled dogs hang out. They receive a warm winter coat over whatever they were wearing and another one on hand for whoever they are rescuing. Then it's off across the snow! Don't worry, non-mushing experts, the dogs know what they're doing and lead the sled right to the designated lost Star Child.
The rescuee gets to lay in the sled for the ride back, wrapped up warm and cozy in their new winter coat (it may be spring, but it's always cold in Wintermute). The sled dogs bring Star Children back to the hot springs, so that they can warm up even more. Alternatively, Star Children can explore the Cutting Edge, the School of Thoth, or something else in Wintermute. However, the Star Children cannot part ways or leave Wintermute immediately.
The sled dogs, yes the whole team, will stay with the pair to enforce this. They may surround the pair like a pack, cuddle pile on top of them, or lay around the edges of a hot spring. No matter how long it takes to realize the dogs are doing this and that there's a reason for it, Star Children will eventually find instructions in one of the dogs' collars: Share something that other people have refused to listen to you about. Everyone ought to be listened to.
Only once both Star Children have shared something with each other will the dogs let them part ways and see, perhaps, the rest of Folkmore.
On the walk to Akhlut Station, Star Children will see plain weapons sticking out of the snow: swords, guns, knives. These are simple, non-magical practical weapons. Experienced Star Children may know to suspect such free offerings, but nothing immediately happens upon picking one up. However, once on the train, the train will be attacked by frost spirits. These icy spirits must either be hacked to pieces until they can no longer reform or melted with fire. Innocent passengers who didn't pick up a weapon may be forced to get involved, but the frost spirits will be most focused on those who picked up weapons.
New Star Children arrive in Wintermute. Not at the hot springs, the school, or anywhere else near civilization. They arrive in the middle of white, snowy nowhere. The good news is that Wintermute is no longer dark twenty-four seven. There is enough light to avoid crevasses, blocked up wells, and other dangerous features of the landscape. Further, no one is expected to figure out how to get out of there on their own.
Usually Thoth finds the lost travelers in the cold expanse of Wintermute. However, she's busy exploring the multiverse for new and interesting ideas for technology. Not to fret! She hasn't abandoned ye who've entered here. There's a new emergency lost and found network:
The Wandering Dog food carts are now open twenty-four seven! The dogs work in shifts, but the food remains as delicious as ever. When a Star Child gets lost in Wintermute, another Star Child will happen to be buying food from a Wandering Dog somewhere in Folkmore. One such lucky unlucky Star Child gets transported to the School of Thoth. Specifically, to where the mechanical sled dogs hang out. They receive a warm winter coat over whatever they were wearing and another one on hand for whoever they are rescuing. Then it's off across the snow! Don't worry, non-mushing experts, the dogs know what they're doing and lead the sled right to the designated lost Star Child.
The rescuee gets to lay in the sled for the ride back, wrapped up warm and cozy in their new winter coat (it may be spring, but it's always cold in Wintermute). The sled dogs bring Star Children back to the hot springs, so that they can warm up even more. Alternatively, Star Children can explore the Cutting Edge, the School of Thoth, or something else in Wintermute. However, the Star Children cannot part ways or leave Wintermute immediately.
The sled dogs, yes the whole team, will stay with the pair to enforce this. They may surround the pair like a pack, cuddle pile on top of them, or lay around the edges of a hot spring. No matter how long it takes to realize the dogs are doing this and that there's a reason for it, Star Children will eventually find instructions in one of the dogs' collars: Share something that other people have refused to listen to you about. Everyone ought to be listened to.
Only once both Star Children have shared something with each other will the dogs let them part ways and see, perhaps, the rest of Folkmore.
On the walk to Akhlut Station, Star Children will see plain weapons sticking out of the snow: swords, guns, knives. These are simple, non-magical practical weapons. Experienced Star Children may know to suspect such free offerings, but nothing immediately happens upon picking one up. However, once on the train, the train will be attacked by frost spirits. These icy spirits must either be hacked to pieces until they can no longer reform or melted with fire. Innocent passengers who didn't pick up a weapon may be forced to get involved, but the frost spirits will be most focused on those who picked up weapons.
- New Star Children arrive in remote areas of Wintermute.
- Star Children buying food from The Wandering Dog get teleported to the School of Thoth to rescue people with a team of sled dogs.
- Star Children get amazing new winter coats!
- Star Children cannot part ways until they share something others have refused to listen to! The dogs enforce this.
- Simple, non-magical weapons stick out of the snow on the way to the train station.
- Anyone who picks up one of those weapons will see their train get attacked by frost spirits.
Content Warnings: Potential Forced Participation, Potential Harm
Thoth has been listening to any and all ideas people have had around science in the last few months. Whether they were shower thoughts or a discussion between scientific colleagues or anywhere in between, she's made her list and built every one as an experiment. On a human scale. A human test subject scale. Because every idea has merit. That's right: Thoth believes in you.
Posters saying Thoth Needs You! go up around Folkmore. They offer a reward for participating in an experiment. Simply tear off a piece of paper from the bottom of the poster, and at some point in the future, you're in. Now, there might be a little hiccup here or there. These posters are experimental too! So some Star Children who don't tear off a slip might get pulled into an experiment as well. (Who said Thirteen ought to recruit for her trials? Thoth listened… or she tried.) Oh well, at least it's all in the name of science!
Perhaps Star Children need to sing Baby It's Cold Outside to convince the other to stay (it really will be cold outside). Perhaps they have a choice of spinners, buttons, levers, or other devices to interact with. Perhaps they make their way through a maze. Perhaps they try a new contraption. Perhaps they even recognize their own idea come to life! There's a multitude of new tech to try, and it has not been safety tested.
Nothing will explode. Probably. Maybe. Okay, some experiments are definitely going to have explosions. How about pressing that button anyway and finding out if it's this one?
Once Star Children survive the experiment—and they will, Thoth may be a loose cannon of a scientist, but she's ensured that much—they will emerge from one of the School of Thoth's laboratories. Togo, the grey wolf mascot, waits on the other side with an item for each test subject: an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item.
No one is left to the cold to fend for themselves. One of the nearby classrooms has been set up as a first aid center. Dog spirits of all sizes, from the smallest Maltipoo spirit to the largest Great Dane spirit, staff a healing clinic and will treat any injuries Star Children received in the experiments (or already sported). They offer hot lemonade—lemon juice, molasses, and hot water—to everyone to warm their soul. Injured Star Children can find a corner to rest by themselves or company with which to discuss their experiments.
Thoth has been listening to any and all ideas people have had around science in the last few months. Whether they were shower thoughts or a discussion between scientific colleagues or anywhere in between, she's made her list and built every one as an experiment. On a human scale. A human test subject scale. Because every idea has merit. That's right: Thoth believes in you.
Posters saying Thoth Needs You! go up around Folkmore. They offer a reward for participating in an experiment. Simply tear off a piece of paper from the bottom of the poster, and at some point in the future, you're in. Now, there might be a little hiccup here or there. These posters are experimental too! So some Star Children who don't tear off a slip might get pulled into an experiment as well. (Who said Thirteen ought to recruit for her trials? Thoth listened… or she tried.) Oh well, at least it's all in the name of science!
Perhaps Star Children need to sing Baby It's Cold Outside to convince the other to stay (it really will be cold outside). Perhaps they have a choice of spinners, buttons, levers, or other devices to interact with. Perhaps they make their way through a maze. Perhaps they try a new contraption. Perhaps they even recognize their own idea come to life! There's a multitude of new tech to try, and it has not been safety tested.
Nothing will explode. Probably. Maybe. Okay, some experiments are definitely going to have explosions. How about pressing that button anyway and finding out if it's this one?
Once Star Children survive the experiment—and they will, Thoth may be a loose cannon of a scientist, but she's ensured that much—they will emerge from one of the School of Thoth's laboratories. Togo, the grey wolf mascot, waits on the other side with an item for each test subject: an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item.
No one is left to the cold to fend for themselves. One of the nearby classrooms has been set up as a first aid center. Dog spirits of all sizes, from the smallest Maltipoo spirit to the largest Great Dane spirit, staff a healing clinic and will treat any injuries Star Children received in the experiments (or already sported). They offer hot lemonade—lemon juice, molasses, and hot water—to everyone to warm their soul. Injured Star Children can find a corner to rest by themselves or company with which to discuss their experiments.
- Thoth has built experiments to bring Star Children’s ideas to life.
- Pick a paper tab off a Thoth Needs You! poster to participate. Or don’t. A mishap may bring Star Children there regardless.
- Do science! Be a human experiment! Maybe experience explosions!
- Togo, the Thoth mascot, will have an item from home for every Star Child who participates.
- Dog spirits man (dog?) a first aid center in a nearby classroom.
no subject
"I don't know... it might?" She's grasping at straws here, because what he probably really needs to get off his chest will no doubt lead to her having to return in kind. And that? Well. She'd rather not.
"Moon aliens?" That sufficiently distracted her from that train of thought, "I sincerely doubt that was part of their NASA training. I will admit that they do have to be physically fit. But in straight hand to hand? Caveman has still got it. Especially if it were a Neanderthal. They were much stronger than humans."
no subject
Or maybe not. That would be his luck.
"That was absolutely part of their training. They didn't know what they were going to find up there. They kept them in quarantine for three weeks after the first landing, to make sure they hadn't caught any moon germs. You think they didn't train them on how to stab aliens?"
It's the most he's spoken since arrival, but then, there's that patented Parker-Spiderman-idiotic-rambling. "Brute strength might not be enough to win."
no subject
Now, that doesn't mean that she doesn't want to win the debate, of course.
"No, maybe it's not. But it helps! Plus, the Caveman probably kills and hunts every day of his life that's got to count for something, right? The astronaut doesn't stand a chance in a straight-up fight. That's just facts, Peter!"
no subject
"Astronauts trained for months to withstand G-forces and kept their bodies in peak physical condition. They could hold their own for long enough that they could outsmart a Caveman in a fight!" Peter flails a little as he makes his point, which looks ridiculous with the coat over the Spiderman costume, really sells the whole stupid thing.
no subject
Maybe the wolves will get so bored about this ridiculous conversation that they'll just let them go without ever talking about anything serious. Because it doesn't seem like they are anywhere close to stopping this debate.
no subject
Maybe they will, maybe they won't, Peter's not actually sure?? How anything works around here?? Maybe it's enough. Maybe not. The dog next to his leg hasn't actually moved at all, and he's not sure if that's a good sign or not.
no subject
Then Gwen moves to get away, and the robot dogs move immediately to block her, "Oh-- come, on!"
She slaps her hands over her face and drags them down and then up through her hair, tugging the pink ends. Gwen's quiet for a moment, searching for something. Something that she can't talk to anyone about, that would be something she could bring herself to talk about with him.
"Dammit."
Maybe she should say something. Just get this over with. Rip off the band-aid. Except her can't get her mouth to find the words.
no subject
How did a magic fox kidnap him? Don’t ask stupid questions, Peter.
“What if we just run away?” Peter suggests, but again, stupid question. The dog next to him starts barking, one paw moving to rest threateningly on his leg, and Peter skitters a step closer to Gwen, holding out his hands placatingly towards the dog. “Alright, jeez! Hunt me to the ends of the Earth, got it. Shit.”
The lull into silence isn’t comfortable, he’s sure, for either of them. Gwen looks distressed, tugging at her hair in what Peter interprets as anxiety. After a beat, Peter sighs again, quietly, and reaches up to unfurl his mask. He’s not in the habit of it, of course, but for Gwen - any Gwen, honestly - it seems like the least he can do. Maybe it will even out her more at ease, able to see his face the way he can see her’s.
His hair is insane, as per usual, when the mask fully detaches from his head, and Peter stuffs it into his pocket before he chickens out.
“Hi.” His smile is hesitant. An offering.
no subject
His hair is a disaster and it makes her laugh. Her hair could get pretty crazy too, but this Peter's is something else. He's older than her. She's not entirely sure how much older, but can tell at least that he's no longer a teenager and not quite as old as Peter B. Parker.
"Hi Peter." she manages with a small sad smile, hand falling finally from her hair. Gwen works her jaw, thinking maybe she should just say it and get it over with. It feels wrong. Too blunt. Too much pain, when they've both had enough... but maybe it will make these stupid dogs let them leave. She pulls in a breath and lets it out with a heavy sigh. Okay, Gwen. Just do it.
"You died in my universe. Because of me. And I... know why you're being weird around me, too. I've seen how things turn out for me in a lot of other universes."
cw: self-sacrifical idiot hours
"Oh." For a moment it's all he can say, the word sounding like it's been punched out of him, and he blinks, brain trying to process the information. She knew, of course she knew and he - he was the one who...huh.
"I'm weird anyway, you know that." An attempt at levity, however fleeting, because he's Peter, how can he not? A frown knits his brow, unable to be hidden by the mask any longer. "Is it...always the same?"
It's only fair he match her honesty, so Peter squares his shoulders, meeting Gwen's gaze head-on. There's no joking in his tone this time, steady and serious, even if it's a truth both of them would probably rather not hear. "If you know - well, yeah, you do - you should also know I'm glad it was me, in your universe."
"Spent enough time wishing it was in mine." His foot scuffs against the snow idly; the most he can offer is an apologetic half-shrug. "Kind of nice to know the world is right, somewhere out there."
That she survived, even though Peter knows firsthand how bad survivor's guilt could be. Worth it, for her heart to continue beating. He can't imagine any of the other Peters she's met would have felt any different.
cw: self-sacrifical idiot hours
"No. It's not always the same. But ends with the same results. Miguel called them Canon Events." She sounds extremely bitter the moment she says the name and every word after, practically spitting out the word 'Canon', "Certain events that link all Spider-People across the multiverse."
She couldn't accept that anymore. Miguel had to be wrong. Her eyes flash with anger when Peter says that he's glad it was him, "Don't," Gwen points an angry finger at him, jaw clenched, "Don't you dare say that. I don't like that I die in... nearly every other universe it seems like-" Or at least the one's Miguel had shown her, "I don't have any idea what to do with that. But that doesn't make his death not important. He was my Peter--"
Her eyes shut, and she needs to look away, gritting out her words out, "He died because he thought was wasn't special. He stole a formula from Dr. Curt Connors, turned himself into a monster. I didn't know it was him. I hit him too hard and--" Gwen slaps her hand over her mouth as her words stumble, and she chokes out a sob.
Yup, wonderful, now she's crying. Stupid dogs.
no subject
"...Gwen," Peter starts after a beat, his own tone gentle, just absorbing the anger, the rage. It's expected, too, with his comment - not that it makes it any less true. "I never said it wasn't important. That...he wasn't important. I know he is."
He's not sure if Gwen's Peter was to her what his Gwen was to him, but at the very least, they were the best of friends. The kind of love and friendship that doesn't come around often, the kind that aches forever in the aftermath. He told his Gwen once that she was his path, that he chose her above everything else, and truth be told - he's been fumbling in the dark ever since.
"I'm sorry." This part is new, this part does not match his story, and maybe (not maybe, yes, Peter), he's the idiot for having assumed it would be the same. The difference knots a frown into his brow, even as Gwen turns away and starts to cry. God, Peter, is your foot in mouth syndrome terminal? "That's - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - that's not, ah, what I thought would have...happened."
Assuming makes an ass of everyone, Pete. He hesitates a moment before reaching out to touch Gwen's shoulder; he's no Aunt May at this, but it's an offering of support, whether or not she turns away from him. He exhales slowly in the beat of tense silence for a moment, thumb brushing against her shoulder, the raised lines of her own handmade costume. "I'm gonna say this and you're going to disagree, probably, but I doubt that's new, for us. It's not your fault, and it's...it's not his fault, either. I didn't mean to imply that it was or - or that it didn't matter. It was an accident, Gwen, our strength is - it's dangerous, and you couldn't have known."
"That serum..." That much, Peter's reasonably sure is the same. Probably. "The Lizard? He wasn't going to stop, he couldn't stop. If he were himself...he would have wanted you to stop him."
no subject
"It's n-not as though it would have been any be-better if it had happened the way it happened for you." Clearly, not. The details don't really matter, but for the way it ends. The pain is still going to be there. There's a bit of tension when Peter first puts his hand on her shoulder, but eventually they relax but instead in a slump as tears continue, but she lets out a shaky breath in an attempt to collect herself.
"He was trying to comfort me as he died." And it hurts, "He told me it was going to be okay. I just... I should have known how much he was hurting. But I had no idea. Too busy saving other people."
But she couldn't save him. Not from himself.
"And then my father, he-- he saw me, saw Spider-Woman over his body. Made it his mission to catch me." she shakes her head, glancing up at him finally when tear stained cheeks, "He's still alive, at least. Before you ask."
And maybe he'd actually stay that way.
no subject
But it's easier said than done, carrying that kind of love around with nowhere for it to go. That's what grief is. All the love you never got a chance to express. That guilt compounds it? Perhaps that's just part of what makes a spider a spider.
"I don't think there's any good way for that to happen." Aside from the one where he bites it as Spiderman, and she gets to live a normal life, but he wisely skirts around it, thinking of Harry. Not dead, but decidedly gone. Unreachable in his madness. Another person he had failed, but what else was new? His hand starts a slow circle as Gwen relaxes, a soothing kind of comfort.
"Talking about emotions isn't really what I...do." Gwen knows this, of course, but it feels like it bears repeating when she blames herself for not seeing what her Peter was likely going to great lengths to hide. "You couldn't have helped him, not if he didn't open up."
Peter's sure his counterpart was embarrassed, prideful. Unable to deal with his own emotions - yeah, sounds like a Peter Parker. That it ended in tragedy and disaster, well - he need only look at his own initial trial by fire to know it could have been within his capabilities - one universe out of infinite possibilities.
"Gwen...I'm so sorry." More unexpected news. Their divergences were more different than he could have guessed, and he tamps down thoughts of Captain Stacy's blood on his hands, welling between useless fingers. Peter inclines his head in acknowledgement, meeting Gwen's gaze steadily, for once. "Yfh shysh chym ysh tkvvh...where there's life, there's hope."
no subject
She starts to calm, wiping the tears off her face and hating that she'd cried in the first place. Peter isn't the only one who didn't really like opening up, "After her died. I closed myself off to pretty much everyone. Until recently."
And of course, she'd screwed everything up with Miles. Maybe she could still save him and his parents, but she's not sure that he'd ever want anything to do with her again. At least she still had Hobie, Peter B., and the rest of them. "My dad found out who I was. So I left..." she left the entire damn universe, "But when I came back, he decided to quit the force. For me."
Being the Chief of Police had been his whole life. And was what was supposed to cost him that life. Her expression turns from sad to more resolute and steadfast.
"I was told things like my father's death, my death in your universe, in hundreds of others, has to happen. Needs to or the multi-verse might collapse. But I can't let that be true. Not for the ones it's not happened to yet. My father left the Force and my universe is fine... so there's got to be hope for the rest of them. Someway to stop the rest of them or at least not just accept it has to be this way."
no subject