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February-March 2025 Test Drive Meme
February-March 2025 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 a canon item from home, 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 Emotional Effects, Trapped in a Location, Potential Forced Sharing, Potential Violence, Potential Death-like Experience
New Star Children arrive as motes floating in light to land on a bar stool, in a booth, or in a chair at a table in a dimly lit bar. It's a lonely place of few patrons and a sole proprietor: a red fox… or a woman in a red sweater and autumnal colors. Blink and she will remain what someone first saw. There's little decor in the place, mostly plain polished simple wood, but there are more dark corners than anyone can count. Tucked into those corners, under tables, and anywhere else vaguely discreet are plain weapons: guns, daggers, swords, and the like. Empty and still as the bar may be, that 'decor' may rouse suspicions, among veterans and newcomers alike.
Those already in Folkmore will find an entrance to the bar whenever and wherever they feel lonely, perhaps missing someone in particular. A half-hidden door will appear pressed between buildings in Epiphany, built into a hill in Willow, etched into the bark of a grand tree, and so on and so forth. Once patrons have entered the bar, the exit fades away into the background. It doesn't seem to have disappeared entirely, so much as always being just out of sight, around a corner, hidden in shadows, or otherwise out of reach. Looking for it, or trying to leave already, will bring the proprietor's attention to a Star Child, and she'll ask them to place their order.
She's hardly received any requests for drinks. What's missing more than anything else in the bar are patrons. Anywhere from thirty to a hundred people might fill the bar to capacity, but there's no more than a handful of other people present at the moment. What fills the rest of the place to the brim are shades. Born of Lore and regret, these spectral spirits start off thin and wispy, but they feed on the loneliness, regret, and other negative emotions people bring with them.
The longer people stay, the more shades crowd around them and feed on those emotions; the more solid, colorful, and real they appear. Not only that, the shades take on the appearance of those tied to someone's regrets: those they miss, those they've hurt, or those they've failed in some way to help. On the other hand, Star Children dim, lose color, and fade. Their energy and their ability to care what happens to them drain away to strengthen the shades surrounding them. Tempting as it may be to drown one's sorrows with drinks, that course is a dangerous one. Fade away long enough, and Star Children risk turning into shades themselves—and losing themselves into being someone else's regrets. If a Star Child turns into a shade, their shades rapidly fade back to their original ghostly form and seek out their next source of energy.
The way to quiet these ever-hungry ghosts is simple: connection with the living. Ordering a drink or greeting someone will grant a brief reprieve. Speaking with someone at length holds the shades at bay. Speaking about one's regrets? No matter whether Star Children receive simple commiseration or an objective, grounding response that suggests a path towards personal growth on the subject, the interaction will cut the connection with the shade, and it will fade away. Should that shade be a recently-faded Star Child, they solidify in their seat, a real and solid person with the chance to connect again.
There's more than one way to form a connection, so whether it's a newcomer who'd rather fight than talk or an old hand who knows weapons lying around come with a catch, patrons who pick up a weapon (or two) and fight each other's shades together can also vanquish them. But beware: taking up arms to fight sends one's own shades into a frenzy, surrounding their patron and draining them faster. There's no requirement to aid each other, and others can ignore what terrible end comes to that person… but if they regret failing to help? That lost person becomes their new shade. Better hope someone's more helpful and generous of spirit then.
Anyone who makes a solid connection with another bar patron will find that they can see the exit. Freedom, at last. Furthermore, when settling their tab, the bartender passes one last item over—an object from home, tied somehow to one of their regrets, even just the simple regret that it hadn't come along for the Star Child's original journey to Folkmore because it'd be so useful now. This item may even be a weapon or magical item.
New Star Children arrive as motes floating in light to land on a bar stool, in a booth, or in a chair at a table in a dimly lit bar. It's a lonely place of few patrons and a sole proprietor: a red fox… or a woman in a red sweater and autumnal colors. Blink and she will remain what someone first saw. There's little decor in the place, mostly plain polished simple wood, but there are more dark corners than anyone can count. Tucked into those corners, under tables, and anywhere else vaguely discreet are plain weapons: guns, daggers, swords, and the like. Empty and still as the bar may be, that 'decor' may rouse suspicions, among veterans and newcomers alike.
Those already in Folkmore will find an entrance to the bar whenever and wherever they feel lonely, perhaps missing someone in particular. A half-hidden door will appear pressed between buildings in Epiphany, built into a hill in Willow, etched into the bark of a grand tree, and so on and so forth. Once patrons have entered the bar, the exit fades away into the background. It doesn't seem to have disappeared entirely, so much as always being just out of sight, around a corner, hidden in shadows, or otherwise out of reach. Looking for it, or trying to leave already, will bring the proprietor's attention to a Star Child, and she'll ask them to place their order.
She's hardly received any requests for drinks. What's missing more than anything else in the bar are patrons. Anywhere from thirty to a hundred people might fill the bar to capacity, but there's no more than a handful of other people present at the moment. What fills the rest of the place to the brim are shades. Born of Lore and regret, these spectral spirits start off thin and wispy, but they feed on the loneliness, regret, and other negative emotions people bring with them.
The longer people stay, the more shades crowd around them and feed on those emotions; the more solid, colorful, and real they appear. Not only that, the shades take on the appearance of those tied to someone's regrets: those they miss, those they've hurt, or those they've failed in some way to help. On the other hand, Star Children dim, lose color, and fade. Their energy and their ability to care what happens to them drain away to strengthen the shades surrounding them. Tempting as it may be to drown one's sorrows with drinks, that course is a dangerous one. Fade away long enough, and Star Children risk turning into shades themselves—and losing themselves into being someone else's regrets. If a Star Child turns into a shade, their shades rapidly fade back to their original ghostly form and seek out their next source of energy.
The way to quiet these ever-hungry ghosts is simple: connection with the living. Ordering a drink or greeting someone will grant a brief reprieve. Speaking with someone at length holds the shades at bay. Speaking about one's regrets? No matter whether Star Children receive simple commiseration or an objective, grounding response that suggests a path towards personal growth on the subject, the interaction will cut the connection with the shade, and it will fade away. Should that shade be a recently-faded Star Child, they solidify in their seat, a real and solid person with the chance to connect again.
There's more than one way to form a connection, so whether it's a newcomer who'd rather fight than talk or an old hand who knows weapons lying around come with a catch, patrons who pick up a weapon (or two) and fight each other's shades together can also vanquish them. But beware: taking up arms to fight sends one's own shades into a frenzy, surrounding their patron and draining them faster. There's no requirement to aid each other, and others can ignore what terrible end comes to that person… but if they regret failing to help? That lost person becomes their new shade. Better hope someone's more helpful and generous of spirit then.
Anyone who makes a solid connection with another bar patron will find that they can see the exit. Freedom, at last. Furthermore, when settling their tab, the bartender passes one last item over—an object from home, tied somehow to one of their regrets, even just the simple regret that it hadn't come along for the Star Child's original journey to Folkmore because it'd be so useful now. This item may even be a weapon or magical item.
- New Star Children arrive in a dim, mostly empty bar.
- Kuma Lisa is the bartender, in fox or human form.
- Shades feed on Star Children's negative emotions, draining them, and taking the appearance of people they miss.
- Connection is how Star Children ward off shades. Talking about regrets makes one safe from shades.
- Star Children can also take up weapons and fight shades. It sends your shades into a frenzy.
- Star Children can turn into shades if they are fed on long enough. When others connect, it can de-shade them to try again.
- Those who form connections can see the exit and leave. They also get an item from home related to one of their regrets.
Content Warnings: Forced Relocation, Forced Body Modification, Forced Conversation/Revelations
Not every bottle in the bar is full of alcohol, a mixer, or even a far weirder spirit. They don't contain Folkmore's spirits at all; Kuma Lisa has skipped straight to bottling Star Children. Each bottle contains a single Star Child, and the label's design reflects what they might taste like, were they alcohol. Those inside experience a soft place to sit and reflect on their lives surrounded by thick glass walls that permit light through while distorting the view into indistinct shapes. There's no way to break the glass from within, and no way to tell which bottles are for bar service and which bottles contain Star Children from without. There's no way to signal someone outside to provide a direct rescue, but never fear: there is a simple way out.
Everyone inside the bottle has their Relic, even if they usually don't have it on their person. Sitting in this round or round-esque room with no exit, messages about missing someone begin to be exchanged—the first message each Star Child sends ghost-written (rather than willingly sent) about someone they miss, and signed 'the true thoughts and feelings of one [Star Child].' As advertised, the message is true. It also resonates with the recipient, some similarity between them and the missed person. Perhaps it can be the start of a beautiful friendship (or the world's most awkward exchange, but who's counting?). At least the Star Child behind this message is predisposed to like something about the recipient, however grouchy their exterior. If a conversation goes well, a system message will pop up asking each person if they would like to talk face-to-face. Should they both agree, they are poured out of their bottles to land safely on the garnish in a drink. The drink isn't massive. The Star Children are tiny!
That's right, these tiny Star Children float on a garnish-raft in a cocktail at the lonely Bar None above. They have a nice umbrella to provide them shade, and it's all set for a cozy conversation if they so wish. As these tiny Star Children talk, the drink around them will show related memories reflected on the surface. These reflections stick around until the conversation is over or someone, preferably someone with a bigger stomach, drinks it. Spills continue to reflect memories and cannot be mopped up so much as cleanly pushed into a fresh glass. A larger patron cannot drink the tiny Star Children. Kuma Lisa will stop anyone drinking from a glass with Star Children still on it.
Star Children who decide that 'no, they shall not discuss this matter after all' may attempt to flee, but being an inch or so high has its own problems. The bar is massive, the shades may become violent, and they are but a small, small person. Even those who can normally shapeshift or alter their size find they cannot make themselves any bigger! At the end of the day, whether with their original partner or another tiny Star Child, the only way to get bigger is to be the bigger person… and talk about those feelings.
Star Children who remain tiny by closing time, whether they stay locked in their glass prison or scattered around the bar, will be tucked back into bottles (as needed) and those bottles laid gently on their sides, which reorients the space inside to a tiny bedroom. Each bottle warms to the temperature to help its resident sleep comfortably. Larger patrons join them. Kuma Lisa shrinks any larger patrons who cannot leave and deposits them safely in bottles away from the shades. No one is missed, so there is no free rein in the bar overnight. Bedtime (bar) snacks will be provided, as well. The bartender takes good care of her patrons regardless of their size, with the only damper being that one remains in a bottle to hope for better results the next day. Star Children can take as much time as they need. Kuma Lisa is patient.
Not every bottle in the bar is full of alcohol, a mixer, or even a far weirder spirit. They don't contain Folkmore's spirits at all; Kuma Lisa has skipped straight to bottling Star Children. Each bottle contains a single Star Child, and the label's design reflects what they might taste like, were they alcohol. Those inside experience a soft place to sit and reflect on their lives surrounded by thick glass walls that permit light through while distorting the view into indistinct shapes. There's no way to break the glass from within, and no way to tell which bottles are for bar service and which bottles contain Star Children from without. There's no way to signal someone outside to provide a direct rescue, but never fear: there is a simple way out.
Everyone inside the bottle has their Relic, even if they usually don't have it on their person. Sitting in this round or round-esque room with no exit, messages about missing someone begin to be exchanged—the first message each Star Child sends ghost-written (rather than willingly sent) about someone they miss, and signed 'the true thoughts and feelings of one [Star Child].' As advertised, the message is true. It also resonates with the recipient, some similarity between them and the missed person. Perhaps it can be the start of a beautiful friendship (or the world's most awkward exchange, but who's counting?). At least the Star Child behind this message is predisposed to like something about the recipient, however grouchy their exterior. If a conversation goes well, a system message will pop up asking each person if they would like to talk face-to-face. Should they both agree, they are poured out of their bottles to land safely on the garnish in a drink. The drink isn't massive. The Star Children are tiny!
That's right, these tiny Star Children float on a garnish-raft in a cocktail at the lonely Bar None above. They have a nice umbrella to provide them shade, and it's all set for a cozy conversation if they so wish. As these tiny Star Children talk, the drink around them will show related memories reflected on the surface. These reflections stick around until the conversation is over or someone, preferably someone with a bigger stomach, drinks it. Spills continue to reflect memories and cannot be mopped up so much as cleanly pushed into a fresh glass. A larger patron cannot drink the tiny Star Children. Kuma Lisa will stop anyone drinking from a glass with Star Children still on it.
Star Children who decide that 'no, they shall not discuss this matter after all' may attempt to flee, but being an inch or so high has its own problems. The bar is massive, the shades may become violent, and they are but a small, small person. Even those who can normally shapeshift or alter their size find they cannot make themselves any bigger! At the end of the day, whether with their original partner or another tiny Star Child, the only way to get bigger is to be the bigger person… and talk about those feelings.
Star Children who remain tiny by closing time, whether they stay locked in their glass prison or scattered around the bar, will be tucked back into bottles (as needed) and those bottles laid gently on their sides, which reorients the space inside to a tiny bedroom. Each bottle warms to the temperature to help its resident sleep comfortably. Larger patrons join them. Kuma Lisa shrinks any larger patrons who cannot leave and deposits them safely in bottles away from the shades. No one is missed, so there is no free rein in the bar overnight. Bedtime (bar) snacks will be provided, as well. The bartender takes good care of her patrons regardless of their size, with the only damper being that one remains in a bottle to hope for better results the next day. Star Children can take as much time as they need. Kuma Lisa is patient.
- Star Children are transported into a bottle at Bar None with their relics.
- Ghost-written messages start conversations between bottled Star Children about people they miss.
- Star Children who agree to talk about it in person get poured out safely onto a garnish in a cocktail. The cocktail reflects related memories.
- Star Children can get up to chaos when tiny but cannot grow or escape. The only way to get big is to be the bigger person (and talk).
- Star Children, large and small, who cannot leave by closing time are returned (or kept) in bottles. Bottles are turned sideways, have bedrooms, and bar snacks are provided.
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[ Yeah. It's great. If that kid calls him by name one more time... ]
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[ Leaned back a bit in his seat. ]
Are there a lot of other people who know versions of us here?
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They're fine. One yells a lot, and makes me feel like pushing him into a pool would be a fun time.
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[ Pointed out; ] If that’s all we gotta worry about, though? Easier to contain shit if any secrets get out.
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[ Yes and no. Definitely better behaved, and without the yelling. ]
That's all so far. You just have to worry about the fox. First day here, a profile of information about me was posted.
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[ Huh. ] … What kind of information?
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[ He definitely does know. ]
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[ He’s just going to. Pull out his relic. It’s black with blue flame decals and a gothic font on the buttons, though that’s tiny and going to be harder to see from where Hawks is. ]
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[ It's all there, his old name, the fact he hates the cold, feels he has dirty hands, hating people grabbing at his wings and his desire for someone he can trust in his orbit.
This profile is nothing he would say to reporters, ever, while being at least, not as bad as it could be. ]
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You gotta fix the self care shit, at least. That’s easy enough.
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[ Can Dabi feel the sarcasm from there?
Hawks leans forward and takes another piece of chicken stubbornly. ]
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[ He set his half eaten bowl aside, he’s so full. Dabi closed his eyes and just enjoyed that feeling for a moment, hopefully his body didn’t rebel later. ]
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[ Maybe hanging out with villains rubbed off on him, but it's a more genuine reaction of alarm than his usual canned PR responses. ]
Leaving aside the fact it is not my name.
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[ Dabi glanced at him. Actually. He’s seriously curious. ]
Wait. Do you know?
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Afraid not. Just your alias, as you know, even if I rarely use it, firecracker.
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[ And all this time he thought the spy was keeping that in his back pocket to use later. Well … in a way, that made some things better, that Hawks didn’t know about Endeavor all along. ]
[ He’d consider that later. Right now, he wanted to have fun being smug. He opened his eyes to glance over at Hawks and drawl; ]
Well, well, well. Seems like I came out on top this time.
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I am never going to hear the end of that, am I? [ He sighs. ]
What thread did you pull? It's exceptionally difficult to get my old name, considering it's not tied to me in any way, and Hawks is my legal name.
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[ Shrugged. To his credit, it’s not because Hawks slipped up. ]
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Tomie probably isn't as careful as she thinks, some years later after the fact, if she even thinks about it at all these days. ]
Of course you recognized the name. The little chicks didn't. You can imagine why the Commission wants my history scrubbed with a parent like that. Two, really.
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[ A slight sneer. ] They’ve prolly been holding that over your head.
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Hawks' lips pull into a small smile. ] Oh Pyro, you've got no idea what they've got over my head.
[ That threat is by far the weakest. ]
Like you say, I can't change who my parents are. I can't deny that that getting out would tarnish my reputation and they want me to have an excellent reputation above reproach.
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[ Definitely burning the Commission was on his to-do list. Didn't hurt that he's pretty sure they've been covering for his fucking dad, too. Fuck all of them. ]
And that getting out would somehow be your fault, in their stupid and petty point of view. Even if people ended up surprising us both and took your actions at face value, instead of thinking your worthless dad had anything to do with you.
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You and I both know that my dad being a medium time villain with a murder on his rap sheet and doing time would significantly hamper my career. I'm going to guess your breadcrumb trail led to Tomie.
[ Hawks rubs his forehead like he has a headache. ]
It's probably not that hard to twist her arm. As far as I know she's supposed to be clean, but it's not that easy for addicts.
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[ Gave him a long look. ]
Do you even wanna know? I could say something sarcastic if you’d rather not, I’m good at that.
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Coward.]
I don't know how she is. I don't think about her much. I haven't seen her since I was six, about half a year after my old man got arrested.
[ Where has he been? Who knows. ]
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