June-July 2024 Test Drive Meme

[folkie]

June-July 2024 TDM

Introduction

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This Test Drive meme is open to all.
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.

Current players are always encouraged to tag new people on the TDM!


🦊 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.

[ Prompt One ★ Prompt Two]

Ghost Tours . ★

Content Warnings: Ghosts, Potential Violence, Potential Death

Summer has hit. It's hot, and nowhere is it hotter than Cruel Summer. Naturally, new Star Children arrive in Cruel Summer with no indication of which direction to go to escape, unless they're so lucky as to arrive near the Selkie River. The water provides a break, and a selkie skin will protect Star Children from the heat. Though beware the cruelty of leaving a selkie without their skin. Along with the heat, Star Children can hear whispers and the echoes of screams throughout Cruel Summer. There's no obvious source of the noises. Not the normal creatures. Not anything anyone can see.

Whether new or old Star Child, anyone lost, overheated, in need of a rest, or anything else will find a friendly spirit will find them in the sands, rock, or shores of Cruel Summer. They'll guide the way toward the huts found in Cruel Summer. These huts have changed; the huts are bigger and grow together, making them one interconnected twisting winding empty town. No one appears to live there. The wooden town is in disrepair, varying from building to building. Even so, they are cool inside, a welcome break from the summer heat.

No matter how one entered, even through the swinging doors to the saloon, that exit disappears behind Star Children. There's no turning back. The only way out is to explore the way through the buildings. This fact continues to be true building to building as exits continue to vanish. The abandoned town isn't as empty as it first seems. As Star Children explore the branching paths through the wooden structures, they see ghosts of spirits going through the paces of their lives. They're familiar to these spaces and interact with missing objects that sometimes shimmer in spirit energy.

Spirit Children may interrupt these routines to try to talk with the ghosts. Some ghostly spirits are friendly. They may interact with Star Children as though they're someone else, someone the spirits used to know. Others, like the bartender, may treat them like a new customer. Other ghosts are determined to stick to their routines and, should Star Children continue to interrupt, will attack those who disturb them.

These spirits may kill Star Children when they attack. Normal weapons won't hurt them. There are revolvers, shotguns, iron pokers, hunting knives, and other plain weapons around to grab in self-defense. Salt bullets and iron will dispel ghosts. These weapons may be grabbed at any time. However, doing so attracts the creatures in Cruel Summer. A blood red worm spitting yellow acid may break through the floor to eat or spray Star Children. An enormous coyote may leap through the window. Whether attracted by the use of weapons or passing by, any dangerous creature found in Cruel Summer seems agitated when they come near these structures and will attack them and anyone inside. They will focus especially on anyone with a stolen selkie skin.

Should Star Children die, whether to ghosts or creatures, they will not immediately return to life. Do not pass go. Instead they will haunt the ghost town for one week in the room where they were killed. Other Star Children may recognize them and work to snap them out of their routines. Yet nothing will free the Star Children's spirits before the week is through. At the end of the week, they'll come to, alive, in their bodies in the room they died in. Best get through and out of the ghost town before dying again!

A constant through these scenes are the spirits' spoons, visible somewhere in each scene. The ghost spoons are whole. Once free of the ghost town, Star Children may choose to travel to the Shattered Spoon Shrine in Never Fade to search for the broken fragments of any of these spoons. They are in such small pieces, however, that no Star Child may feed them enough Lore alone to bring the spirit back. Two or more Star Children may spend time in the Shrine creating and feeding Lore toward the spoons to heal them. It just may be enough to bring someone back.

• Whispers, echoes of screams, etc become common throughout Cruel Summer
• Huts become bigger, interconnected, growing together. Anyone lost, overheated, in need of something in Cruel Summer gets a friendly spirit redirecting them to these buildings
• Buildings will still be in some state of disrepair, but like a whole twisting winding town
• Insides are a cool respite supernatural ghost spirit air conditioning
• Only way out is through, no turning back, as the exits disappear behind you
• Many are friendly, but some are not. One can attempt to talk to them, but how interactive they are varies
• Occasionally other creatures from Cruel Summer may burst in and attack
• If a Star Child dies, rather than return to life immediately, they stay a ghost for about a week, part of the tour

Flames to Embers . ★

Content Warnings: Fire, Coerced Confessions

Fire! Fire across the realm! For the second half of June, wildfire burns everywhere. While it doesn’t hurt Star Children, it can reduce everything else to ash: homes, businesses, gardens, spirits. The local spirits will be in a panic and beg Star Children for help from small ice mice in Wintermute to fennec foxes in Cruel Summer. How can Star Children help? Confessions. Anything the person they are with doesn’t know. The more earnest and meaningful the better.

When wildfire erupts and spreads, Star Children may stand in or in front of an area they want to protect and confess something to another Star Child who happens to be nearby. Their neighbor? Their partner? A stranger lost in a new land? These confessions simply need to be something the other person doesn’t know to protect structures and spirits. Memories related to the confession will show in the fire. The fire will fuel these memories until they run out of energy, dying down to embers. At least in that place at that time.

Should something start to burn before someone confesses, multiple confessions are necessary to catch the wildfire’s attention and distract it from the fuel source it is feeding on. Two or more Star Children will need to make confessions whose memories are shared in the flames. Water powers can also help quell the flames, but confessions are necessary in the end.

Once July hits, the wildfires are mostly gone, only sparking up here and there on occasion. In their stead are embers. They spark in the air like fireflies and fly around Folkmore, attracted to Star Children. These embers land on Star Children and make them glow. There’s no pain. In fact, the embers provide sparks of insight into memories, situations, and other emotional dilemmas that Star Children haven’t previously understood. Talking the issue over with another Star Children provides further emotional clarity.

Spirits are welcoming to both embers and Star Children. Confessions help Folkmore grow as well. Gardens bloom in beautiful displays. Crops grow healthy and joyful. It’s even possible to hear humming from some of the vegetables and fruits. The land grows with the Star Children. Anyone who lacks a green thumb can work their way around that with confessions! Save that dying plant and grow those tomatoes.

One time that a Star Child confesses, either to wildfire or to embers, they will find a jeweled box shaped like a flame. The peak of the flame comes off to reveal the insides. Within, there is an item from home. It may even be a weapon or magical item. Larger more meaningful confessions are more likely to receive weapons. These items may even be larger than should fit in the box or its entrance. Whether the box should only hold a single ring or fill the palm of one’s hand, these items fit. Star Children also can keep the jeweled box, and this one item from home can be stored within the box. Other items too large to fit the box will not enter it. Only the one from the box.

• Last two weeks of June, wildfire burns across Folkmore. After that, they are rare.
• Confessions can protect or rescue buildings, land areas, and spirits.
• Come July, embers spark across Folkmore like fireflies. They provide insight for Star Children. Talking helps.
• Confessions help the land grow.
• Confessions reveal a jeweled box containing an item from home.

Comments

John Constantine | DCU | Myth

[shabby_magic]

Arrival

He knows better. He fucking knows better!

John stares at the sky and curses himself. “You bloody fucking moron, John. You’ll never fucking learn!”

He pounds his fist against the ground a few times before getting to his feet. He dusts his coat off as he looks around. This realm of reality reminds him of the Sahara desert, hot, dry, and sandy. Not his favorite place to visit. There's also the magic. This place is so thick with magic and spirits he can practically taste it on his tongue. And it’s the real deal. Real powerful magic, not the stuff mortals can conjure.

A little too clean and nice for his tastes. Heavily fae given all the bargaining. Different sort of bargaining from demons because they need explicit consent to do this sort of shit.

John’s flippant ‘Yeah, of course luv!’ to the fox spirit had been taken as consent enough. It’s just the sort of phrase a fae would take and run with. Run all the way with someone’s spirit to another realm of existence.

It’s fine! It’s fine! He knows the rules of dealing with fae magic. Escaping this realm will be as easy as the flippant comment that got him stuck in it.

He walks out of the crater made by his landing in this realm still dusting off sand from his jacket. Not the best surface for this sort of work but beggars can’t be choosers he’s learned in magic. The heat of the place will be distracting but he’s felt the fires of Hell. A fairy desert won’t be as bad.

John rubs his palms together before holding his hands out and beginning the chant in Old English to send himself home. He feels the magic swell and rise within, his palms tingle a bit, and the last words burst from him with authority.

No portal opens.

John grits his teeth. “Oh, it’s going to be like that then?” He chuckles darkly. “You have no idea just how stubborn I can be.”

He’ll most likely be found shouting Old English to the skies trying to force his will and his magic on the land, tan trench coat at his feet, sleeves rolled up, and tie hanging more loose than normal.

—

Ghost Tours

“You know, mate, if you served up something real I’d be your best customer.” John rests his chin on his hand as he watches the ghost bartender go through the motions of getting a bottle, pouring a drink, and putting it down on the bar. He sighs as the ghost makes conversation.

Not exactly an intelligent haunting but it’s not a pure recorded haunting either. The bartender is going through the motions but he’s also making conversation, welcoming John to town and asking where he’s from. More strangeness from the spirits of this place further proving his theory that this is a fae realm of some sort.

John mimes putting down a tip on the bar before he turns away and considers the situation. He’s been trapped in a ghost town trying to get out of the heat. Something terrible must have happened to trap so many spirits here. The best way to send them on would be talking to them, getting their names, and then sending them along but that’s a lot of bloody work and so far his magic has proven to be intermittently useful.

When he figures out how the fae is doing that John’s going to make her pay for taking away his magic. Oh, she’ll bloody pay.

What he needs now is an exit.

John puts his hands in his pockets and starts wandering the halls. He lets ghosts pass right through him. None of them are strong enough to get through his protective wards and possess him. All they do is leave a bit of chill behind which is nice after the blistering heat outside.

He picks up the iron poker ignoring all the other weapons in the room. Iron in a fae realm… interesting.

Still, it should do the job.

He looks around and when he spots what he wants John makes his way over. He squares up like he’s seen American baseball players do and swings the iron poker at the window which already has a few cracks in it. The iron poker hits hard and is repelled backwards. The force of it reverberates down John’s arms and sends him stumbling back.

“Bloody hells!” He shakes out his arms and rolls his shoulders. “Of course, of course, it’s magic. You’re slipping.”

He rests the iron poker on his shoulder as he considers the window. Does he try again with force? Or does he try with magic?

—

Flames to Embers

John leans over the still burning parts of the ruins to light his cigarette. It looks to be someone’s home, a cozy little cottage, that’s been ravaged by a wildfire. There’s another one still burning nearby that some folks are trying to put out with buckets of water.

He puffs a few times on his cigarette before making his way over to the group. He stands at the back just observing for a little bit. The flames aren’t really going down even though the group is doing a bang up job with the water. They’re really trying to save that home.

“You know it’s magic right?” he says after taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He blows the smoke out slowly and it drifts up joining the dark clouds rising from the fire.

“It’s not going to go out with water.” John knows magical fire pretty well. It’s a favorite of his. “You’re better off just letting it burn. Unless you can find who cast it. Stop them and you’ll stop the flames.”

That’s the most likely route to take. There are some other causes of magical fire that require different methods but it’s not got the heat and stink of hellfire. There’s no demonic intent involved. Probably just bog standard magical flame that any rookie level warlock could conjure up.

He puts his cigarette in the corner of his mouth and keeps talking. “You see while it’s doing damage to the wood and all that it’s not actually feeding the fire like a normal flame. Someone cast this flame with strong emotion, probably rage, and until that rage burns itself out it’s going to seek out whatever it can to destroy. It’s an outlet for some feelings.”

John takes a moment to consider the flames.

“Bloody strong feelings.” He blows another puff of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Good luck with it.”

Then he turns on his heel intending to leave.

—

Wildcard

John is a Myth with your cliche devil horns and tail. If you want a different prompt, feel free to toss down your own starter.

Arrival

[imperfectimposter]

For her part, Eloise was just mortified enough after appearing in Lady Whistledown’s latest gossip pamphlet and finding out who was behind Whistledown’s column that dropping off the face of the Earth seemed like a great plan. When a magical fox comes to you in a dream and asks if you want to get away, you say yes when you’ve had the kind of past few weeks that Eloise has.

What she didn’t expect was to arrive in the middle of a desert while wearing a ball gown. Her hair is still pinned up, though it’s starting to droop in the heat. Eloise has taken off her gloves and stuffed them… well, somewhere, and she’s using her dance card as a makeshift fan. It’s not working very well.

As she trudges through the dusty landscape, wondering what exactly she’s gotten herself into, she comes upon a man screaming at the sky in a strange language. Eloise has heard all kinds of odd shrieks and yells since she arrived here, but this is the first time she’s actually seen them coming out of a person’s mouth. When he stops for a minute to catch his breath and notices Eloise, she decides to point out the obvious for him.

“Whatever you’re doing, I don’t think it’s working.”

Helpful, right?

[shabby_magic]

"Cheers, luv. Being real helpful with that." John takes a moment to glance over his shoulder. She looks like she's escaped from an Austin novel and is probably dying in the heat. Great. He might have to deal with a fainting woman.

He rubs his hands together, takes a deep breath, and centers himself. The magic is there. He can feel it. That means there's something he can do here. The right words. The right willpower. He can crack this place open.

If he had some of his relics...

"Why don't you go be oh so helpful somewhere else and fuck off?" he suggests before he returns to his chanting, much more deliberate in his pronunciations this go around.

It doesn't work this go either. If he has to spill some blood for this John's going to be really pissed off.

[imperfectimposter]

Eloise will be absolutely mortified if she faints. She's just stubborn enough to make sure that she says upright despite the heat and doesn't swoon like a maiden in a novel. This corset isn't doing her any favors though.

His accent is what most people of her social circle would deem 'lower class', but that hasn't stopped Eloise from speaking with such people in the past. Telling her to fuck off is startling though, and she reacts with widened eyes and raised brows. Nobody has ever said that to her before.

While it's decidedly rude, Eloise unfortunately has nowhere to fuck off to. The maze of interconnected buildings seems endless and he's the first person that she's come across. She's not going to say out loud that she needs help, but she definitely needs help.

She crosses her arms and watches him continue with his shouting. After that doesn't seem to work, Eloise chances to speak again.

"May I ask what it is that you're trying to do?" Less sassy, more polite this time.

[shabby_magic]

John breathes out a heavy breath.

"Open the door from this realm of reality to my own." John puts his hands on his hips and considers the expanse around them. "Maybe Gaelic? Can't try the Egyptian without goat's blood and myrrh."

And he doesn't see any commiphora trees around here. Nor any goats. He doesn't have a ceremonial dagger either so the blood letting would be... messy.

"You'll have to figure out your own way back home." He looks her over. "Unless you want to experience what the downfall of the monarchy and a feminist movement do for a girl such as yourself."

John tries again with an old Scottish rite, the Gaelic flowing a bit more musically than the Old English. The spell is almost sung. More like sing chanting really. Again the magic within and without responds but on the final words there's not even a wobble in reality.

Arrival

[survivalthroughhate]

When Maul came across some loon shouting at the skies, he was tempted to just leave him there to rot in the desert. Until he realized that silhouette and voice sounded very familiar. Seeing the trenchcoat confirmed it. Oh no. No no no! Thirteen had not brought a version of that smug wizard here! And yet he knew who it was as soon as the knowledge was sitting there in his mind, unable to refute it. It could be no one else.

He approached, a little cautious but mostly full of anger. "The fox must be looking for entertainment if she dragged your sorry carcass into this mess." For all that he looked like a demon from Hell, Maul's voice was completely dissonant. He sounded like he should have been in a lecture hall in Cambridge as some university professor with that soft-spoken voice with what sounded like a posh British accent that smoothed out the edges of it. "John Constantine." He spat the name out like it was a curse and with the familiarity of someone who knew exactly who he was talking to. One hand came up and he began to Force Choke the wizard. "I should kill you right now." Then just as suddenly he stopped that agonizing pressure on Constantine's throat, even knowing most of his spells were verbal and he could now have one tossed in his direction.

"But I won't. I still owe you a favor." Was Maul well aware this was a different version than the one who had cursed him to feel the pain of others? Yes. Did he care? Not in the slightest. Maul repaid his debts and he had yet to repay the wizard for a good turn he'd once done the Sith Lord. So that debt remained and it had yet to be wiped out. Until that happened, he couldn't kill him.

[shabby_magic]

John thought he had found a demon. The coloration. The horns. The immediate hatred and murder attempt really said demon to him. Though this one wasn't a demon he recognized sending back to Hell. Maybe friends with one he did? Hm, he'd figure that out after he got some air back into his lungs.

"I don't know who you are, you wanker," he coughed out, rubbing at his throat. "But try that again and I will send you back to whatever miserable pit you crawled out of."

He summons fire to his palm, bright and intense even in the desert heat. The fire always burns hotter when he's pissed off and someone trying to kill him absolutely pisses him off.

He lets the flames die out so he can get back to what he was trying to do in the first place: escape. While he looks to be ignoring the demon that just tried to kill him John's very aware of his presence and is ready to respond if he tries that choking business again.

Ghost Tours

[littlesunshine]

A voice comes from a man leaning nearby, casually inspecting the silver claws that grew through black leather gloves. He has horns, still growing out, which between them, the heat, and dehydration, has given Copia a perpetual headache that he hasn't found a remedy for yet. There were temporary reprieves, besides sleep. He doesn't have a tail - yet - but if asked, he would rather have bat-like wings instead.

"Try magic. Maybe yours will work. Have you tried talking to them?"

The man has attempted to preserve the look of his facepaint through illusory magic, the actual paint having faded off days ago, the rest wiped away by sweat, even before he found water to bathe in. He has folded his papal robes into a makeshift satchel and is using it to carry light useful things he finds, which for now is carrying the rest of his clothes, besides tattered black rocker pants, boots, and an (unfortunately, here) black tunic he had cut the arms off days ago. For a man who enjoys dressing in pretentious layers and wearing makeup, he is not a fan of this unrelenting heat.

"I can't seem to help them pass on, and without a body to reattach them to, I am not having a lot of luck. They seem warded against everything. If you leave them alone, they seem content to keep to themselves though. I've been trying to figure out what happened, maybe that will help. I wouldn't be disappointed to find a way out instead."

[shabby_magic]

This glam rock priest seems to know what he's talking about when it comes to ghosts and spirits. John's not sure he's an actual practitioner of the mystical arts but he talks about ghosts like he knows.

"I don't really talk to residual hauntings. Usually no point in it." John poked the ghosts a little bit when he first entered this maze of buildings. "And this many ghosts in one place you're looking for a mass grave of some kind if you're going to try the old bind to body, salt, and burn business."

A very common and reliable way to banish lingering spirits on to the afterlife.

"Don't think they're typical ghosts though," he continues. "Residual hauntings don't try and kill you when you disturb them. That's poltergeist or demonic behavior. You need to be more flexible if you want to send these on."

John considers him again. "You got any chalk in that bag?"

[littlesunshine]

Copia will keep the "demon summoning necromancer" part of his job description to himself, for now. Nothing he knew was working, and anything more complex, he didn't have the tools for here. It seems wiser to observe what others could do than offer too much information about himself, for now. Part of why he had survived for so long and continued ascending to power was allowing himself to be frequently underestimated.

Also because he was cranky.

"No, no they're not. I don't have anything useful with me. That little fox didn't exactly give me time to pack for a vacation to a...wherever we are. Another dimension?" He shrugs.

"You could try blood. We have plenty of that." Fabric wrapped around his left arm suggested he had already tried something of the sort, except it hadn't been to banish any of these ghosts (why continue wasting his energy - they were here first), but instead to try summoning one of his ghouls. This place hadn't allowed for that either, much to his immense displeasure.

What good was he without his demonic posse in disguise?

"Honestly, I'm more worried about the acid worm. Not a fan of bugs, especially ones trying to melt my face. Have you met yet?"

Flames to Embers

[honored_one]

Nearby to John is someone working hard to put out the flames in every way but the way he needs to be doing. A teenager with overwhelming magical power is using several techniques to cause cascades of water to douse flames as they pop up. It doesn't look like it's costing him any real effort or energy, but he is definitely getting frustrated with how it's not working as well as it should. New embers reignite a few moments right after he got done soaking them.

"Feelings," he scoffs, but his eyes, and frown are on his work and not John. "It's aaaalways about feelings in this goddamn place. Well too bad. I'll stay here all week doing this if I gotta."

Like hell is Gojo confessing anything again anytime soon.

[shabby_magic]

John shrugs. "You know it won't work."

The kid has enough magic in him to know better. Unless he's one of those rare natural talents. Or maybe he's got a celestial or demonic parent. Those kids always end up with some strange powers and a lot of them.

Still, anyone can tell these flames won't be put out with water. Not even magically conjured water.

"Knock yourself out though." John's not going to offer up anything either. He doesn't care if the whole place burns.

[honored_one]

On top of all the insanely powerful abilities he brought with him from home, Thirteen saw fit to give out more powers, and Gojo scored some water magic that way. You'd think, in this instance, it'd be the best bet against this, but it's only stemming the tide of flames.

He keeps going, even though he knows it's a fool's errand at this point. But giving in and confessing something makes it feel like Thirteen wins.

"You know, she could step in at any point and put an end to this. It's her dimension. Instead, she threatens us with harm all in the name of her weird version of psychotherapy or whatever."

He's been here seven months now, and he's really had it with her, with these trials, with everything about the fox god. Quite suddenly, he stops casting. A blue glow that had been faintly lighting up behind his glasses now darkens. The area has since been evacuated; all that's under threat now is property, not people or spirits.

"Y'know what? The hell with it. She can put it out."

Ghost Tours

[burnyoudown]

Kavinsky was pretty laid back about the whole 'trapped in a series of rooms with a bunch of ghosts' thing. It was still a vast improvement over wandering around in the desert, considering he was too fair skinned for the heat (and now sun burnt), especially since he'd arrived without a shirt. Maybe that'd been for the best though, considering the white wings he'd also arrived with. A shirt definitely would've complicated that.

He couldn't blame anyone for being restless and uneasy about being stuck inside here though, either. Who knew how long they'd be here, who knew what would happen. Everything was one surprise after another, ever since the Fox had shown up and plucked him from the hood of Lynch's fucked up dream Camaro. Clearly though, trying to break the windows wasn't doing any good, and he arched an eyebrow while he observed, idly rolling the gold chain of his necklace between his fingers.

"So, uh, looks like that went well," he said. "I don't think round two would go much better."

If there were ghosts, he'd absolutely buy that the windows had magic on them or something. Especially considering the way the exits had disappeared.

"I keep figuring, they've gotta let us out eventually, you know? Can't imagine we'd be brought here just to become more ghosts. This place has enough of those already." It was when that was the mystery, of course.

[shabby_magic]

"Oye cheers, mate, couldn't have figured that out on my own." John glares at the shirtless youth. If not for knowing about how this places changes people he would almost, almost, be concerned he'd found an angel.

Stupid white wings. Stupid fox tricking him. Stupid ghost town haunting everyone.

"Some ghosts would absolutely love to make most ghosts. Get all that lingering anger and pain out on the nearest victim." John considers the window instead of talking directly to the young, lost, fashion model.

"That'd be us." He waves a hand. "If I had chalks I could blow the whole side of this building off."

Maybe. His magic has been unreliable here.

[burnyoudown]

"No problem, man. I like being helpful." He was wholly unbothered; enough people had glared at him over the span of his eighteen years that it hardly even registered most of the time. Besides, he was sure he'd received more dangerous glares from Lynch on more occasions than he could count. Though that was sort of Lynch's specialty, looking at someone like he wanted to set them on fire and would do it, too.

"Guess I could see that, yeah. Misery loves company and all of that. But that Fox- she talked an awful lot if she just wanted us to end up as ghosts." But that was also going with an assumption that she had some control over this place and could protect them. She'd literally plucked him from the middle of the dream field though, so he didn't think that was an unfair assumption.

"Chalk?" His tone was both dubious and curious. "Like, regular chalk? How would that help?"

Arrival

[revocations]

Finding himself in Cruel Summer hadn't exactly been part of the plan for the day, but you know what, it works. Dazai's sprawled on the sand but within hearing range when someone starts yelling at the sky.

Which distracts him at least briefly, enough to get him off the ground, footsteps carrying him over to the stranger.

"New arrival I'm guessing. They're not going to send you home if that's what you're trying to do."

[shabby_magic]

"Of course they're not going to send me home." John looks over at the person who's just shown up. "That's why I'm finding my own way out."

He's traveled realms, realities, and timelines. John knows there's always a way out and often he can do it with his own magic. All he needs to do is figure out what the right magic is in this case.

"I have things to do that don't involve a half-assed deal with some unknown spirit." He takes another look at the young man who's found him. "Who are you?"

[revocations]

"Dazai Osamu. And if you want to waste your energy, go ahead, but it's not going to work." Not that he's tried, but with the amount of people from different worlds?

"You?"

Re: John Constantine | DCU | Myth

[competitivefees]

Tommy is trying to extinguish the fire despite the man's words. He rolls his eyes a little at the man, giving him a flat look, "Magic, oh my god," He says with fake but deadpan shock, "Followed a talking fox here, and my boyfriend grew wings; you're telling me the fire is magic..." There's a dry laugh from the large-ish man in the LAFD shirt.

"So we just let the place burn," He snorts, shaking his head, "People lose their homes?"

[shabby_magic]

"Why not?" John shrugs. "The spirit who rules here clearly doesn't care if her subjects suffer. They should know who she really is. She what she's really willing to use them for."

He gestures to the flames. "Besides, we could wake up tomorrow and all this could be fixed..."

John's about to say more when a voice comes out of the flames. Johnny?

A man's voice. Deep. Warm. John goes stiff and then glares at the flames as if that could kill them. "Don't you dare use him against me or I swear I will make you into a fur coat..."

Judging from his tone he means it.

[competitivefees]

"What if it's not fixed tomorrow?" Tommy asks, arching an eyebrow, "All just sleep snuggled up in the ashes, no thanks," He says before turning to look at the voice coming out of the fire, then back at the man, "You clearly know more about this place than I do, but I mean trying to argue with a magic fire seems pretty stupid," He but there is something soft in his expression, at the tone in the man's voice.

"But then what do I know? I thought I was dead when I ended up here," He shrugs, wondering how long he has until the fire turns its gaze on him.

Flames to Embers

[a_normal_man]

After receiving the ability to use water magic following one of the trials, Clark hadn't had much opportunity to practice with it, and he was regretting that now. Fires had erupted everywhere and traditional means weren't putting them out. Water magic was really the only weapon he had in his toolbox, but it took more out of him than his standard set of powers.

So he was alternating between that and trying to protect or evacuate the local creatures. While a lot of people here knew about his abilities, he still felt like he needed to hide them and as such, was still dressed in his normal civilian clothes.

Then, he hears a man talking about going after the firestarter while nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. With a huff, Clark eyes the other man in disbelief. "Good luck? If you know how to stop it at the source, why not go do it?"

[shabby_magic]

"Because I don't care if the whole place burns," John admits without a second of hesitation or shame about the statement. "Maybe the spirits will realize what sort of ruler they're under seeing all this."

They were all shocked and terrified. John understood these sorts of things didn't happen to them. It happened to the visitors, the Star Children, all the time but usually they were left out of this.

So, let them see just how much their ruler was willing to do to teach people a lesson. How they were just being used like everyone else.

"A forced confession isn't going to make anyone feel better anyway."

[a_normal_man]

"It'll be difficult for them to do that if they don't survive the fires," he replies, failing to hide his indignant tone. Being a bystander in a situation like this wasn't an option in Clark's mind, and he was going to do what he could even if it was manipulation.

"There are always people and things worth saving, even if they're stuck in a terrible place. And if a confession is the price, I'll do it."