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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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The problem was that his kind of brutal nature had no place in the modern era and so it was an eternal struggle for him to try and fit in.
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This was so much better than discussing the ghosts, for however long they could get away with it. It did not seem to be making them any more real, either. "What time would you pick?"
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"I am not sure they ever gave that title to anyone who truly deserved it, though. Probably half of them were responsible for giving it to themselves, and I think there must have been any number of people better who simply did not want the attention. Although if you went around and took out all the people who had claimed it other than you, I guess they would not be able to argue. What would your gunslinger name be?"
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"Shit, I don't know," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Probably have the word 'lucky' in there. Ironically of course. My luck has always been consistently bad over the course of my life." It was like he'd been born with an upside horseshoe hanging over his head or something with how many bad things that weren't even within his power to control kept happening to him.
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"That's all you have, lucky something? You have to be more prepared than that, as strange as this place is, a time machine could show up any minute, and you would be stuck with whatever weird name someone else gives you."
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When he'd first arrived, he would have thought the idea of a time machine showing up in Folkmore to be absolutely absurd. But that was before he'd gone through months of weird shit on end and discovered literally anything was possible in this place. Even now, it got a brief huff of amusement from him, though it didn't last long given their surroundings. After a brief pause, he told her: "...Actually, that sort of already happened. One of the train cars was a situation to get through that I'm pretty sure Thirteen copied from one of my favorite Western movies."
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"So this individual not only snatches people from various different worlds and times to bring here and torture, but she also steals ideas. How very typical. She is very lucky that I have so good a reason to be glad to be here."
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"What reason is that?" He asked her. Dex had his own reasons to be glad to have been brought to Folkmore but that was something no one had really gotten out of him no matter who had been prodding at his past.
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"Now why would I tell you that? We have not even exchanged names."
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"And you are...?" He waited for Yelena to introduce herself.
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Ugh. She exhaled, sharply, and then gave up, although she hated to tick the internal count of the people who knew her first name any higher. It had already been mentioned on the network, too, which was even worse. "Yelena. I am still not telling you the reason."
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"Unless you were raised by wolves." He gave her an appraising look. "Which I'm not counting out as an actual possibility yet." Look, Yelena was more than just a little weird but he supposed anyone who had killed other people for whatever reason when he was assuming she'd been younger were bound to be a little bit messed up in terms of their personality.
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"I am not most people, and I did not claim to be polite. I will claim being raised by wolves, though, I like that, that's very fun. Feel free to pass that theory on to other people, if you decide to talk about this to anyone. I'd love that spread around."
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He glanced over at the ghosts that had gone a little more indistinct around the edges and realized they were on the same track here with what they needed to do to make the ghosts go away. "I request that you come up with a rumor just as ridiculous if you're going to talk to other people about me."
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That is a very fair request in exchange, and Yelena took a couple minutes to properly consider it, finishing off her drink as she thought. "What do you think about the idea that you are actually the reincarnation of an Old West gunslinger? You can pick an already famous one, or come up with a name and we can pretend it is so strange when people have not heard of it."
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"That is pretty good. Okay. I will tell people you are the reincarnation of Diamondfield Jack. Was he one of the gunslingers who claimed to be on the lawful side, or an outlaw?"
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Fisk had let him believe he could give Dex that working for him and had carefully orchestrated things behind the scenes so that his pet killer didn't have to face any consequences when he murdered people for the Kingpin. But reality had come crashing back in when he'd seen Julie's frozen corpse and realized it had been nothing but a fucking lie all along. Now he was determined never to be fooled ever again in that way.
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She tilts her head, considering Dex carefully and thoughtfully before she speaks again, "So that would be your dream? No consequences in general, or specifically for taking people out?"
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He hadn't been lying to Ray when he said he felt more like himself than he had in his whole life working for Kingpin. Being able to do what he wanted without worrying it was all going to come back to haunt him and make his life miserable instead of being forced to keep it all tightly repressed inside at all times was all he'd ever wanted out of his life.
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"My experience has mostly been the opposite, if I am understanding how you are using the word consequences correctly. I have not really ever received punishment for a kill, not directly. Almost all -" Save one. "- of the worst things that have ever happened to me were in service of training me to be an assassin, or occasionally in the process of getting the job done, but calling those consequences for killing feels inaccurate. The lack of that, though... Well. Happiness was very much outside the realm of possibility."