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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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...she may be the worst person ever, acknowledged, but she also knows it's just because she's super mad about Everything lately.]
Hey. I didn't write that, okay? Thirteen likes puttin' words in our mouths.
[Oh hey look her relic is goin' off with emojis, she's just gonna perch on a bit of shell and EMOJI RIGHT BACK, see purely a great and connecting conversation!!]
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[ Well. Maybe not fine. But not not fine enough to say that it's not fine. Words are hard and bad. ]
We can cover it in the tiny seminar.
[ She didn't write it, but what if she does really feel it? Or feelings-adjacent it? If there's a turtle alive who'd take that and make it all about how bad he feels that April maybe feels like that, Raph's not one of them. And he'd beat up any other ones.
Debatable if Thirteen lets Raph have the pop-up and drink-garnish-ification after a bit because she's tired of the fully-aggro emoji spams or because there's more of an automated system at hand. ]
shh I do what I want
😔🐢🌽🍷 Y/N?
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... ]
Y
[ ? ]
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[Clicking Y on her own little popup and bracing for it. Pop. Ride what ride-- there is only the vertigo of Raph going from standing in the middle of the bar to Raph floating on a tiny bit of garnish in a drink like he's been there all along. Bonus! April is the right size now, skulking right there next to him with a scowl!
Either that or they're both tiny now.
Probably that one.]
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It's not even 0 to 100, it's just like. 0 to the end. Blink and you miss it. Raph flounders a little bit and recovers his balance before wrapping an arm around April properly. Sure, it was really cute when she was all thumbelina-sized, but the hug game is so much better this way. He feels way less likely to accidentally drop or squish her. ]
Not exactly the family beach day I think we been hopin' for. But I guess it's kinda nice to float while we do this.
[ When in doubt, open using the gentlest of serious talk gloves. April always has this privilege when it's serious. (Raph is... trying to work on a less intense approach when it comes to having a serious talk with his brothers. Considering how well trying to lecture and corner Leo with that before the invasion worked out: getting brushed off and ignored and having to take a walk to blow off steam, mostly.) ]
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Raph hugs are always golden anyway. She pulls back eventually, making like the tiniest of :c faces. Stupid little anonymous message makes it sound so terrible.]
You know I don't blame you for dyin', right? I was mad you didn't tell me, not anything else.
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I know. You were right to be mad about it. [ He can't hold that against her. Just plain wouldn't be fair. Raph didn't wanna try to deal with it, so he fumbled his whole approach and it kinda made it worse when the bomb dropped.
That all being said, or rather thought: ]
Scale from one to ten, how accurate is that text?
[ Leeway for nuance. "Throwing their lives away" feels... well, he doesn't know about all that. He guesses he wouldn't, though. ]
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In your case? Not at all. It was an accident. But you still died.
...and in Leo and Donnie's case? [Sure, Leo hasn't died here, but none of them have forgotten The Portal.] Mostly. Like I'm just upset, Raph. I keep falling asleep and waking up to someone bein' dead. Maybe Leo didn't think he had any recourse, and maybe he was even right, I dunno. But Dee?
And I always hear about it after the fact and there's nothin' I can do. Ever.
[Shit's scary.]
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In Raph's experience, what you been doin' after is worth a lot. [ Just to have that on the record, because he doesn't want her to think any less of that.
Having April is a different brand of life-saving.
But it's not what she really means, either. ]
I don't think Donnie thought he had other options, either. Tunnel vision, y'know, he gets-- he gets stuck. [ Or something. He got desperate, for sure. (It reflects in the liquid around them: Donnie with his angry bloodshot eyes, yelling. Donnie at the kitchen table in the apartment burying his head in his hands.)
He knew if they knew what he was planning, it wouldn't fly. He knew. And here they are. ] We always think we're doin' what we gotta do. Even if we're wrong about it.
[ Which. You know. Sometimes they are. ]
It sucks on this side of it .
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Raph's right on both counts. Dee does get stuck.
And it sucks.
She looks at those ripples of Donnie and just gets more quiet, drawing in on herself.]
...I knew he was gettin' obsessed. [Stops short of saying we should have done soemthing because she's not that cruel.] But he was so hopeful he was almost there I just let him go. [Because Raph had died. And she wanted them all home.]
And he crossed a line I didn't know he could even cross. But I know why now, at least. [She blinks and scrubs a hand over her eyes reflexively, but she's not actually crying. Her eyes are burning a little, maybe.] He only stopped because he died. How do we help, Raph?
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In hindsight, he guesses it's more and more obvious that someone should've stepped in sooner. All the shared looks and concern and talking about how weird he was getting couldn't magically make that step happen. Should've, could've, would've. Too late now, though. Raph thought they made the right call, because he thought he knew Donnie wouldn't go over the line, but. Well. Wrong call. ]
He won't do it again. [ That much, he can say with full confidence. Whether it's because he thinks Donnie learned a hard lesson or saw the light or because he's banking on we won't let him, eh. Could be either. ] We're gonna watch him. Be there for him. Keep him close. He already, he already told me he's gonna stay close for a while. Donnie's a sneak and all, but he won't go back on that.
[ Not as long as Donnie has a say in it, anyway. "Big brother looking very sad and practically begging" perks. ]
Aside from that... I dunno. [ Which is cool. And not scary to admit at all. ] I don't think we got the kinda help he needs for this. Maybe we ask Rue? Rue might have some good ideas.
[ They're technically the parent. A real adult, with thousands of years of life experience. If this doesn't qualify as a bring-in-parent situation, which he'd like to think he's an expert at recognizing, he doesn't know what would. ]
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[Raph has the big brother sad face and April has the stop turning me into a popsicle ultimatum. But Raph has the right idea, she thinks. Giving Donnie space to get obsessed worked spectacularly unspectacularly, so... the opposite direction it is.]
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But for once, in a good way. ]
Hey, it's a good sign that he tried at all. [ Means he's not completely up in his own head. He got that step back, got at least a little bit of normal perspective again.
They can work with that. They can keep it that way and work from there. ]
Think we'd normally have to hogtie him and drag him to it. [ Or Mikey would do what Mikey loves doing: decide he knows best about something For Sure and forcibly insert himself into the situation to deliver his solutions and opinions.
No idea where baby brother could have picked that up. ] Maybe he scared himself, too.
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...yeah, probably.
...I'm goin' too. I don't think we're the only ones who need it, though. [She is eyeing him in that careful way that warns of possibly awkward topics incoming.]
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Well if you're lookin' for someone who can talk Leo around on it, you got the wrong turtle. [ Maybe even the most wrong turtle for the job. Somehow.
He would swear it used to be different with all his little brothers, but. Not for a while now. Especially with Leo. ]
I don't think I can even remember the last time I got that kid pinned down for a real talk and he listened. Try Peter.
[ He can remember that coming to a boiling point right before the invasion, after a real long stretch of Raph lecturing and Leo ignoring and Raph having to power-walk through his feelings to avoid. Well. Punching out Leo's wall or something just as a random example.
Not his best long-term plan of action, obviously. It's been better since... after. He kinda doesn't wanna risk making it all weird and stressful and tense again when he knows Leo's really trying now. Taking it more seriously. ]
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Yeah? You don't think I can do it? I got Donnie to go. [Sort of. He did try crawling out his window. There was dragging involved.] But you know half of Leo's problem is probably thinkin' he fails somehow if he has to go talk to some stranger about his feelings. Dee's goin'. I'm goin'. And that wouldn't be your problem, would it?
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Why would I think it's failin' when I think it's good you guys are doin' it? Why am I gonna say that about you?
[ Imply??? Whatever. He won't do either of them! ]
What stops me is I don't wanna talk to some stranger about all my business at all! It was Raph's business first and he's managin', so that guy don't get a free ticket.
[ They don't become his problems to worry about and Raph doesn't have to pretend to trust some rando with his feelings and experiences! Hard pass. ]
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That's fair. [She contrives to look faintly sad. Actually, that's not hard, because she's like low key sad most of the time, she just hides it behind mad. Smad?] It'd probably be a lot easier for Leo to let himself get dragged if he knew we were all tryin', though.
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He'd like to think that he is, is all. Or as much as anybody could be. ]
I already told Casey I'd think about it. [ Raph shrugs, trying to be very normal and casual about it. It's the truth, and April deserves all the truth he can muster. ] I can't make any promises aside from that, but I didn't say it just to get done talkin', either.
[ It was almost a sidenote of that convo, even.
The potential bearing on Leo will be accounted for and weighed accordingly, obviously. And the potential of April worrying a little less. ]
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So dropping that subject neatly then, because she wouldn't feel right if she didn't bring it up, but now she has.] You're a guy of your word. If you ever do decide to do it, you can talk to me about it as much or as little as you want. And if you don't, there's always plushie piles and ice cream, right?
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This ship don't hold together without plushie piles and ice cream. [ Or big sisters. ] Same goes for you, okay? We'll stay on call for each other.
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Nah look, it's just not in her bones. Closest she's going to get is beating some idiot brother to a pulp one day. He'll probably deserve it.]
You got it. And hey, that's one thing in this dumb place's favour. [She waves her miniaturised relic.] Ice cream on demand!
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Yeah, we can add that one to the stack. Doesn't lift a lotta weight, but it still lifts. [ That counts for something. They can get plenty here that they never could back home, technically. Meet people they'd never have met.
Even if Raph's not half the natural optimist that Mikey is, he can always hammer stubbornness into something shaped roughly like it. He'll never run out of stubbornness. ]
I'm glad you're with us. Ever since you showed up. Y'know?
[ Raph won't even add on the "I wish none of us were here BUT" part of it. That goes without saying. He wants to just say the good part because he wants to make sure April hears it. ]
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I'm glad I'm here with you. I'd hate you guys to be on your own. [She just wants to be, y'know, conscious and actively trying to fight the next person who tries keeling over dead.] But that's... really good to hear, actually. [She's not even sure why. She hasn't once thought they didn't want her here, but maybe it's just like. It's good to know maybe she makes things a little more bearable.]
We're gonna smash through all this crap and get home. We just need to find the right wall. [Which is apparently not one of the walls here. Shh, just go with it.]
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