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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, bud. I think we got mousetrapped. [Because of course this stupid kind of Hotel California setup exists, it's like the desert maze all over again. Ugh.] I guess that probably means we can't make our own door either.
[She'd be up for trying if you wanted though, like. She's tiny, she can take cover in your shell if you wanna cannonball into the nearest wall, my guy.
...oh no this probably means she has to TALK TO PEOPLE UHGHHHGH though maybe if Raph is here she can just talk to him?]
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[ Raph steeples his fingers like he's thinking about the most serious matter in the world. Really strategizing. Logistics-ing. Debating within himself, with the full council of mental Raphs at his disposal. ]
If we don't try, we'll never know. [ Tests are easy, etc. etc. etc. ] Huddle up, sister, we're gonna try all options.
[ If you don't want walls busted, don't make a situation so punchable! ]
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[Gonna find herself a safe little nook protected by shell LMAO oh god she kind of does hope he leaves a Raph-shaped hole in the wall please Thirteen it'd be so funny]
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[ Contextually appropriate violent destruction!!! We love it!!!!!!
Ohhh the way his ass immediately slams into the wall for nothing.... there he went. RIP a second time Raph damn. Thirteen is about to put him on a drink raft just to shut him up. ]
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She'll crawl out using his mask as a scaffold to get back up to his shoulder so he can hear her clearly.] Okay, maybe magical walls are dumb and indestructible. You okay, big guy?
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Raph sits back up plenty fast, albeit with a lot of standard-fare irritated grumbling about this whole enterprise. Maybe he sits on the floor with his arms crossed! How about that!
SO unfair. ]
Yeah, I'm fine. Even though this bar got built by a cheater who had to use magic or somethin' to CONTAIN ME!!!
[ That must be the absolute only possible way that he could ever not kool-aid man through a building. There's definitely literally no other times he's probably done that exact same thing. ]
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Man, if this was a normal bar there'd be a Raph-shaped hole by now, we all know it. [She has. A bad feeling about the lack of door. But first she must test a theory.] Hey, do me a favour and stick me somewhere safe for just a sec. See if the door reappears for you.
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Because for one thing, April is so small that by Raph's overprotective reckoning, literally nowhere that's not with him or a trusted family member qualifies as safe. Anything could happen! How would he know before it was too late!!!
And for another if the door does turn back up for only him, it's a moot point. What's he gonna do, abandon his girl? In this den of... whatever the heck it's a den of. Shrinking. People getting hounded by creepy-looking shadow figures. He's not letting himself worry about if any of those are supposed to be coming for him. Later problems. ]
... okay. Just for a sec. [ Like he's not gonna stay hovering in the immediate vicinity anyway. Get real. The tininess is influencing him.
Raph deposits her very gently onto the closest table, so he can be in reach if like a bird swoops in trying to eat her or something. He looks around for a few seconds.
And looks.
Plants his hands on his hips like a disappointed mom, still looking. ]
Okay, we might be lookin' at a one way in, no way out situation right now.
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Aight. We gotta work out what you need to do. Like... I'm already shrunk, do we need to shrink you too? [That seems very unwanted. Also don't have a heart attack, she's doing the very unwise thing of vaulting off the table to catch onto his wrist wrappings. Look, it feels less vulnerable than standing on the edge of that table!]
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I guess I could figure that out...? [ That's a smallness level he's never been sentient for. How does one cope with that. ] How'd you get shrunk? Or-- I mean, didja just wake up like this?
[ He's gonna start going through his relic in case of calls from other family who got stuck all tiny somewhere. Or general announcements about this exact thing happening. Whichever. ]
And when'd I get all these texts?!
[ WHY ARE THEY ALL ANONYMOUS HE DOESN'T HAVE THIS KIND OF TIME??? ]
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Oh. Yeah. One of those is probably from me. Thirteen broadcast shit we didn't even say to the network. I bet those are all tiny people. [She scowls.] If you agree to talk face to face, you get teleported into a glass with them to talk about your feelings.
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Oh. [ That actually sounds super easy. ] Okay, so I'm gonna do that and then we can get regular sized again from talkin'. Probably.
[ Stands to reason with how this place works.
And Raph does NOT!!!! Look very guilty!!!!!!!!! At all!!!! While he reads that text and spams back some emojis to try and game the system! ]
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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?
no subject
... ]
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 .
no subject
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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[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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