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December 2023 & January 2024 Test Drive Meme (Overflow)
December 2023 - January 2024 TDM (Overflow)
Introduction
Original TDM post found here
[ TDM Questions ★ Jump to Comments ★ Full Navigation ]
Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.
All TDMs are game canon and work like "mini-events". For new players and characters, you can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Current players are also allowed to have in-game characters post to the TDM so long as they mark their top levels ‘Current Character.’
TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.
Playing and interacting with the TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.
🦊 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: School Detention, Time Not Passing, Forced Reflection/Confession, Potential Violence
Welcome to detention. Star Children, whether they're new arrivals to Folkmore or old hands, find themselves sitting at two person desks in a library. Perhaps there's only two Star Children, perhaps up to four or five. Regardless, each Star Child has a slip of paper in their hands which spells out why they are in detention, a secret detention slip no one else can read. Which, whew, because the reason any Star Child is in detention is for something they've never been punished for, something they might reasonably have thought they got away with, something they know was wrong.
The door to the library opens, and Kuma Lisa enters. She explains that Star Children will be in detention for four hours, and by the end of detention, they will need to reflect on what they did and express contrition. The headmistress gives no further guidance before leaving and closing the doors behind her.
Four hours is a notable chunk of time, but it's not so long, is it? Surely it's possible to wait it out without making good on the assignment… Or perhaps it's enough to write about it in one of the notebooks on the table in front of each student, without explaining it to another soul. Star Children are welcome to try whatever they want. However, they may notice an oddity with the clock. Namely, no matter how many times the second hand ticks around a circle to mark a whole minute, the minute and hour hands don't progress. It's the same minute over and over and over—
Detention is four hours, but how long four hours takes is entirely up to the Star Children in detention. Read every book in the library. Throw a dance party. Get high. Pull weapons out of the books. All matter of non-magical weapons. Nothing immediately happens upon pulling those weapons—no monsters to make detention less boring. Unless people make progress reflecting on their transgression, communicating about it with another Star Child, and showing penitence for it, time won't pass. Reality warps to stay in the same minute, minute after minute, hour after hour.
What's it going to be? Never ending detention or personal accountability?
However long it takes, it only takes four hours in the realm of Folkmore.
A word of warning to those who grabbed weapons, they will be attacked on their way home after detention. They will be attacked by creatures out of storybooks. Star Children will need to know the literary weaknesses of these creatures, good luck, or the help of someone else coming along who does know their weaknesses. At least there's some excitement in the day after four long long hours.
Welcome to detention. Star Children, whether they're new arrivals to Folkmore or old hands, find themselves sitting at two person desks in a library. Perhaps there's only two Star Children, perhaps up to four or five. Regardless, each Star Child has a slip of paper in their hands which spells out why they are in detention, a secret detention slip no one else can read. Which, whew, because the reason any Star Child is in detention is for something they've never been punished for, something they might reasonably have thought they got away with, something they know was wrong.
The door to the library opens, and Kuma Lisa enters. She explains that Star Children will be in detention for four hours, and by the end of detention, they will need to reflect on what they did and express contrition. The headmistress gives no further guidance before leaving and closing the doors behind her.
Four hours is a notable chunk of time, but it's not so long, is it? Surely it's possible to wait it out without making good on the assignment… Or perhaps it's enough to write about it in one of the notebooks on the table in front of each student, without explaining it to another soul. Star Children are welcome to try whatever they want. However, they may notice an oddity with the clock. Namely, no matter how many times the second hand ticks around a circle to mark a whole minute, the minute and hour hands don't progress. It's the same minute over and over and over—
Detention is four hours, but how long four hours takes is entirely up to the Star Children in detention. Read every book in the library. Throw a dance party. Get high. Pull weapons out of the books. All matter of non-magical weapons. Nothing immediately happens upon pulling those weapons—no monsters to make detention less boring. Unless people make progress reflecting on their transgression, communicating about it with another Star Child, and showing penitence for it, time won't pass. Reality warps to stay in the same minute, minute after minute, hour after hour.
What's it going to be? Never ending detention or personal accountability?
However long it takes, it only takes four hours in the realm of Folkmore.
A word of warning to those who grabbed weapons, they will be attacked on their way home after detention. They will be attacked by creatures out of storybooks. Star Children will need to know the literary weaknesses of these creatures, good luck, or the help of someone else coming along who does know their weaknesses. At least there's some excitement in the day after four long long hours.
🦊 Star Children, new and old, in groups of 2-5 are in detention for something they did wrong & haven't been punished for.
🦊 Kuma Lisa explains detention lasts four hours, and people have to express regret for what they did by the end.
🦊 Time doesn't pass unless Star Children make progress toward that assignment.
🦊 It always takes four hours in Folkmore time.
🦊 Star Children who draw weapons from books during detention will be attacked on their way home.
🦊 Kuma Lisa explains detention lasts four hours, and people have to express regret for what they did by the end.
🦊 Time doesn't pass unless Star Children make progress toward that assignment.
🦊 It always takes four hours in Folkmore time.
🦊 Star Children who draw weapons from books during detention will be attacked on their way home.
Content Warnings: Theft, Glitter Bombs, Minor Power Nerfing
There's a problem with the nonexistent mail delivery system in Folkmore. Gifts are being delivered to residents' addresses—their correct addresses, even if they live in the woods—but those recipients, written on a fat cream label, cannot pick them up, teleport them, or otherwise move them under their own power. These gifts sit in garish and contrasting colors that make certain to draw attention to themselves. Hello, here they are.
Anyone else can pick these packages up, from the person next door to a stranger walking by. There's so many gifts around it's easy to pick one up, remove the label, and go on one's way. Few people are home all the time, and even if they are, what are they going to do? Pick it up themselves? Ha! It's freereal estate. Star Children with abilities to see inside the packages can see something they want badly within as extra motivation to go for it.
When Star Children open their ill gotten gains, these packages explode in a glitter bomb that coats everyone within a ten foot radius. This glitter is impossible to wash out, magic away, or otherwise remove for twenty-four hours. Walk, swim, fly, or otherwise go about with glittery evidence of the crime committed.
Almost always. If it were guaranteed, where would the fun be in that?
The rare fortunate criminal or the original recipient, helped by another Star Child, will receive an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item. Those who receive an item will stop receiving gifts on their doorstep, whether they stole the gift or received it from a package addressed to them. They can keep stealing other people's gifts, but they will only receive a glitter bomb from then on.
Mischievous Star Children can even prank each other by changing the label and redelivering packages to someone else. Should that person get help to bring the gift inside, it still isn't their gift, not really, so it too will explode in glitter.
There's a problem with the nonexistent mail delivery system in Folkmore. Gifts are being delivered to residents' addresses—their correct addresses, even if they live in the woods—but those recipients, written on a fat cream label, cannot pick them up, teleport them, or otherwise move them under their own power. These gifts sit in garish and contrasting colors that make certain to draw attention to themselves. Hello, here they are.
Anyone else can pick these packages up, from the person next door to a stranger walking by. There's so many gifts around it's easy to pick one up, remove the label, and go on one's way. Few people are home all the time, and even if they are, what are they going to do? Pick it up themselves? Ha! It's free
When Star Children open their ill gotten gains, these packages explode in a glitter bomb that coats everyone within a ten foot radius. This glitter is impossible to wash out, magic away, or otherwise remove for twenty-four hours. Walk, swim, fly, or otherwise go about with glittery evidence of the crime committed.
Almost always. If it were guaranteed, where would the fun be in that?
The rare fortunate criminal or the original recipient, helped by another Star Child, will receive an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item. Those who receive an item will stop receiving gifts on their doorstep, whether they stole the gift or received it from a package addressed to them. They can keep stealing other people's gifts, but they will only receive a glitter bomb from then on.
Mischievous Star Children can even prank each other by changing the label and redelivering packages to someone else. Should that person get help to bring the gift inside, it still isn't their gift, not really, so it too will explode in glitter.
🦊 Gifts appear outside Star Children's residences, even those without residences.
🦊 Recipients cannot pick up the gift but any other Star Child can.
🦊 Almost all stolen gifts explode in a glitter bomb that leaves glitter for 24 hours.
🦊 Star Children can receive an item from home, even a weapon or magical item.
🦊 Star Children can prank each other by changing the labels/moving the packages.
🦊 Recipients cannot pick up the gift but any other Star Child can.
🦊 Almost all stolen gifts explode in a glitter bomb that leaves glitter for 24 hours.
🦊 Star Children can receive an item from home, even a weapon or magical item.
🦊 Star Children can prank each other by changing the labels/moving the packages.
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[Though it comes out still a little baffled. Ingo's contemplated whether or not someone was missing him somewhere, of course. On his more lonely, selfish days, he's hoped someone was. But on the whole...it would be better if they weren't, right? Maybe he'd been alone in his former life. Or, after a while, he thought that maybe anyone he did know might have just given him up for dead and moved on. The idea stung, but at least it would mean no one else was hurting for his failure to remember.
But he's really not sure if he can take this as truth or not. Not when it's coming from a ghost with his own face. What does that mean? Is it a manifestation of his own worst impulses? Is it about to whisk him off to view his own memories or something? This is going on too long and getting too upsetting - he needs an explanation.]
I...I don't understand. Are you an associate of the Vulpix?
[He still hasn't moved, hands tucked into his sleeves to stop himself from reaching out. There's some temptation to try to comfort a crying stranger, but offering a hand is an iffy thing to do with a mysterious ghost/maybe-Zoroark for a few reasons - besides, his Pearl Clan customs run too deep now. It's rude to enter a stranger's space without permission!]
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[A script came to mind, like what he would say on the Super Doubles train. What he said, what he does. Always the same.
Hi, do you remember me? I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. I like Double Battles. I like combinations of two Pokémon. And I like winning more than anything else.
In between choked sobs all he could say was-]
No. I am Emmet.
[A crack in his voice.]
I like Double Battles.
[A held back sob. In front of everyone there.]
I like winning more than anything else.
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[Ingo would be brightening, if that was the sort of thing his face did. That is something he knows!]
I remember I used to train with someone who said that! He -
[He looked like me.
Ingo's actual memory of the man is vague at best. Their resemblance is an impression he has, more than a judgement he's made; he doesn't remember the other man's face enough to make those sorts of judgements. If pushed, he might have ventured that they had similar hair...or maybe just similar sideburns. That likely he was a family member. People might have a father, or brother, or even a cousin who looks very like them!
In Ingo's experience, they don't have doppelgangers.
But the confluence is alarming, and he peers at the crying man with a new urgency.]
I apologize, are you real? A - a person, I mean?
[As opposed to a spirit or a Pokemon. The question is probably clumsily phrased, but "just a regular human person who is physically identical to me" has absolutely not been on Ingo's radar as a potential thing that could happen! Especially not when there are clearly a lot of other magical things happening around him right now!]
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Yes, I am Emmet. Ingo and I are twins.
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Of course Ingo is aware, in a general sense, that twins are possible. But he's also aware that they aren't common; he's never actually met any in Hisui. Identical twins...he's pretty sure that happens too, but he's never even heard stories from anyone who did know of any. It must be vanishingly rare!
Not impossible, though.
Which means that he's rather botched this, hasn't he? He's just letting his actual human brother weep like a child in the middle of a public space while he asks inane questions! Ingo starts stammering, horrified and flustered. The fact that he's met his brother will probably hit him in full force in a minute - for now, he looks quickly around.]
Ah...my goodness, well...come, let's go over here!
[There's no immediately obvious private spaces around here. Ingo turns instead to lead the way so that they might stand behind some larger flowering trees in a corner of the garden. He's far too unsettled to keep himself from talking, though, so he doesn't wait to get there before going on:]
I ought to explain, I - well, you see, I suffer from rather severe memory loss...I mistook you for a sort of spirit or something like that, I apologize!
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[Then he heard it, severe memory loss. His mind instantly pinned a phrase to it. In one of his deep dives on missing persons, he stumbled upon dissociative fugue. Where someone just suddenly forgets everything and leaves. Exceedingly rare, .2 percent of the population.]
[It had lazily crossed his mind once or three dozen times that was one thing that could have happened to Ingo, but he still would have been found quickly considering he was a well known public persona.]
I'm just happy-
[Emmet wipes his face on his sweater sleeve.]
-to see you again.
[Emmet stopped sobbing long enough to say that. It was obvious he was trying to regain his composure.]
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[Rambling. Probably loudly. Stop that!
Ingo shuts himself up - part of it is still nerves, especially now that he sees he has caused pain. Not even just today. He's caused a great deal of pain. But he is tentatively excited, too! All of his questions can finally be answered, all at once! And he does have blood relations, after all! When he's imagined finding someone he knew before, he always thought it would be something difficult and painstaking - traveling the world or some such years-long venture. He never imagined anything like this!
He's still just standing here. Ingo isn't sure of the correct social protocol for this situation, but it's probably not that. In the Pearl Clan, the customs around sharing space with family members is more relaxed. Emmet's not from there, though, and Ingo doesn't know how he feels about such things...]
May we - share space for a moment?
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[Just hearing Ingo was glad to see him, some question about sharing space? None of it fully registered as he felt a surge of energy bubble forth in him as he practically threw himself at Ingo. Just so he can touch his brother again. Prove to himself this was all real. Hugging Ingo.]
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[Ingo's startled by the sudden lunge! But - that's fine. That's what he'd meant to do anyway.
Hugs are rare for Ingo. Hugs from another human, even more so. That makes things sound worse than they are; he has his Pokemon, and even Lady Sneasler tends to be affectionate! But there is something different about touch with another person, and there are times he misses it keenly. Now, Emmet seems to fit with him better than anyone else ever has.
Ingo brings his arms up to return the hug. It's a little awkward, but he's always tended to be when it comes to physical expression. What seems to come naturally to others never has to him. He's learned more since befriending Akari, though, so he brings a hand up to run it over Emmet's hair as best as he can.]
There, there. Everything will be alright! I am sorry for what I must have put you through, but we are both here now!
[Ingo is both thinner and harder with muscle than when he left. But it's been rather a long time. Probably there are differences in Emmet as well, but he can't tell.]
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[This was the best thing he could have ever experienced. Emmet burys his face in Ingo's shoulder. A fresh wave of crying again. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn't find the words- so instead he just clung to Ingo. Clung like a child to a comfort item, clung like a parent keeping a child out of the street, clung like a person grabbing onto a log so not to be swept away into a river. His claws dug into the fabric on Ingo's back.]
[It was obvious from how he would open his mouth he was trying to talk, but instead just the sounds of crying escaped him again.]
[How could he tell Ingo just how much he missed him? How he always made sure to keep something Ingo liked in the fridge, how he kept Ingo's room dusted but would carefully not touch anything so when Ingo came back, it would be just as he left it, how he would lay on Ingo's bed just so he could smell Ingo again. How when Ingo's brand of body wash expired, he made sure to buy the same brand same smell just so he wouldn't forget.]
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It doesn't mean he's not starting to cry a bit himself. He's always been soft-hearted like that.]
It's alright. Take your time.
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I -
[Did he miss Emmet? Of course, he didn't really miss him, specifically. How could he? But he's felt vague...homesickness? Rootless nostalgia? He's felt that off and on for as long as he can remember. And he has wanted to speak to the man who liked winning again.
It's probably more important to be kind than technical anyhow.]
I missed you, too.
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[The normal monotone would have made anyone else think Emmet was being mean, but there was just a little something that showed he wasn't. Just, accepting it. Like saying the sky is blue and Pikachus are too popular.]
We can make new memories, right?
[That lingering self-doubt that came from a seed planted and tended to over the course of the past few years. That he really was just an accessory, and now Ingo know he doesn't need Emmet around.]
[Emmet tried to push that thought down, that Ingo would at least be curious about a man who looked like him at the very least!]
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[Not that he really knows Emmet now. But just judging from this interaction, it seems like they must have been close! There's not many people Ingo dislikes anyway; he thinks he'd miss pretty much everyone in Hisui, if he ever left permanently.]
But yes, of course we can do that! And perhaps the memories will return easier, with someone familiar around? [though maybe he shouldn't get his hopes up] They have never been...well, very much more than what I told you. But that all began a few years ago, when I started battling at a higher level. I think because I found it familiar!
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[A conversation about battling. Like he an Ingo used to have for hours at a time. Discussing strategies. Thinking who to level next. When Boldore and Gurdurr got the moves they wanted to trade evolve them with each other...]
I am glad you found some strong trainers.
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[Now that he can look Emmet in the face again, Ingo is studying him more closely. It's fascinating how similar they look, now that he knows it isn't an illusion! Like looking in a mirror! Except...
He touches his own cheek briefly, trying to subtly check his expression. His mouth feels like a straight line. That's a big smile, for him, but on anyone else he knows it would indicate a lack of interest at best. Ingo flushes; of course Emmet feels like Ingo doesn't care!]
Ah, um...the thing that happened to me. I do not know what it was, exactly. Probably not actually a head injury. But Warden Calaba thinks that it may still have damaged my ability to express myself properly. I do not mean to - I feel - [Well, he usually feels like he is smiling, but he's learned well enough now to know he never really is, and that's frustrating! It's also a lot to dump on someone right away.] - I really am happy to see you!
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[But they liked Ingo better, that much was obvious once Ingo left.]
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[Not really that good, in that there's definitely not a way to fix it. But when they'd thought it was brain damage, there wasn't a way to fix that either. So, on the whole, probably better this way.
The comparison stings a little. But Ingo already knew he was too stiff. There just isn't usually another person attached.]
Well, then! [What now? Ingo fishes in his pockets and offers Emmet a cloth to clean his face. It's not really nice enough to be called a handkerchief; he carries things like that to serve as makeshift bandages, mostly. He opens his mouth to suggest that they go and get their bearings in wherever-this-is, but he's cut off by the sound of a loud, long whistle. Not a Pokemon cry, it sounds more like a very big tea kettle, but - something about it sparks a sudden excitement!] What is that? Where did it - ?
[Torn between rushing off to find the thing and not wanting to abandon Emmet, he just gets louder and sort of vibrates in place.]
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[He hears the whistle.]
Must be the train, yup.
[Emmet is coming down from his gross crying, give him a moment to get some energy again.]
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[He asks, like someone who has just been told that you can rent and ride mythical Pokemon here.]
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[Emmet don't cry again challenge? Almost failed.]
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I - I do know what trains are, more or less! I talk about them often enough, out of habit, and I can piece together the metaphors I use. And then I met Miss Akari, and Professor Laventon, and they have both described them for me! But I have never actually seen one before! There are not any lines in Hisui! I do not even know who might be able to build any -
[He's too excited to worry about the glances they're getting from passerby, at least for now.]
cw: suicide ideation and related stuff
[If all it took was dying (You didn't die, Emmet), he would have 'down the road' a long time ago (Even though that 'Manual' from Kanto said that was a horrible way-). Much better than being lonely! Much better than people thinking he killed Ingo and fed his body to Garbodor!]
Where is Hisui?
[He asks as if he wasn't just pondering the pros of dying.]
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[Ingo doesn't either, but Laventon says that whatever accent he may have once had has been well and truly replaced with a Hisuian one. It made sense, he told Ingo, after so long. Didn't mean anything more than that. Ingo felt a little guilty over it all the same.]
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