Entry tags:
August-September 2025 Test Drive Meme
August-September 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: Vampiric creatures, forced emotions, forced memory sharing/experience, potential physical dangers (lost, combat, drowning, etc)
New Star Children—and new Star Children only—arrive in Exile. Usually on solid ground. Usually with a sense of belonging and ease navigating within this region. If there's something particular the Star Child needs—food, clothes, shelter—something opens up and makes way. Anyone with hunting or gathering abilities may fend for themselves, a moss cloak may slough itself off a tree for a cool or cold Star Child, and a shack shudders up from the landscape when they grow weary. It's enough for anyone self-sufficient.
For those who want or need something more, they find a chittering scurry of squirrels around peat fires with tents set up. The squirrels provide nut based meals (bark substitute available), simple waterproof woolen clothes, and the use of the tents (two Star Children to a tent, no more, no less) for a small small price: a small prick of the finger and a few drops of blood. They have sharp teeth that can delicately pierce veins, for they are vampiric squirrels. It's the warmest welcome Exile has given to Star Children, not that new Star Children may know that. At least one wherein Baba Yaga—the iteration, the school, take one's pick—cannot be found.
New arrivals who wish to leave Exile and old Star Children who wish to enter Exile to greet the new arrivals shooting down over Exile face… challenges. The land does not want to let go of these newcomers. Nor does it want the old treading its paths, not even those previously welcomed in Exile. An uncomfortable mist filled with dread and rejection hugs borders. Those feelings manifest in a physical presentation of a difficult time in Star Children's lives. It's a time when Star Children had to make a choice: one that could get them exiled in some fashion.
A Star Child traveling alone will move through that memory exactly and must choose exile to pass. Those who made that choice before may have an easier time choosing it again. Or perhaps not.
Star Children who travel together or who come near each other in the wilderness face recreations that are not exactly the same. Their memories merge into one. In this shared false memory, both Star Children must choose exile to pass.
Star Children who pass find it easier to navigate Exile, whether to enter or to leave. Star Children who fail face further difficulties. Exile becomes confusingly similar in all directions. Star Children may be led to face the cunning creatures within Exile, with only basic weapons sticking from trees or held by skeletons to help them, or may be led to the Swamp of Sorrows, to drown under the weight of what bothers them. Whatever the exact challenge may be, it threatens Star Children's lives, and survival only means that: survival. They must retreat or face their memory again to move forward.
New Star Children—and new Star Children only—arrive in Exile. Usually on solid ground. Usually with a sense of belonging and ease navigating within this region. If there's something particular the Star Child needs—food, clothes, shelter—something opens up and makes way. Anyone with hunting or gathering abilities may fend for themselves, a moss cloak may slough itself off a tree for a cool or cold Star Child, and a shack shudders up from the landscape when they grow weary. It's enough for anyone self-sufficient.
For those who want or need something more, they find a chittering scurry of squirrels around peat fires with tents set up. The squirrels provide nut based meals (bark substitute available), simple waterproof woolen clothes, and the use of the tents (two Star Children to a tent, no more, no less) for a small small price: a small prick of the finger and a few drops of blood. They have sharp teeth that can delicately pierce veins, for they are vampiric squirrels. It's the warmest welcome Exile has given to Star Children, not that new Star Children may know that. At least one wherein Baba Yaga—the iteration, the school, take one's pick—cannot be found.
New arrivals who wish to leave Exile and old Star Children who wish to enter Exile to greet the new arrivals shooting down over Exile face… challenges. The land does not want to let go of these newcomers. Nor does it want the old treading its paths, not even those previously welcomed in Exile. An uncomfortable mist filled with dread and rejection hugs borders. Those feelings manifest in a physical presentation of a difficult time in Star Children's lives. It's a time when Star Children had to make a choice: one that could get them exiled in some fashion.
A Star Child traveling alone will move through that memory exactly and must choose exile to pass. Those who made that choice before may have an easier time choosing it again. Or perhaps not.
Star Children who travel together or who come near each other in the wilderness face recreations that are not exactly the same. Their memories merge into one. In this shared false memory, both Star Children must choose exile to pass.
Star Children who pass find it easier to navigate Exile, whether to enter or to leave. Star Children who fail face further difficulties. Exile becomes confusingly similar in all directions. Star Children may be led to face the cunning creatures within Exile, with only basic weapons sticking from trees or held by skeletons to help them, or may be led to the Swamp of Sorrows, to drown under the weight of what bothers them. Whatever the exact challenge may be, it threatens Star Children's lives, and survival only means that: survival. They must retreat or face their memory again to move forward.
- New Star Children arrive in Exile! All are treated warmly (for Exile).
- Old Star Children are not teleported into Exile. All are treated coldly.
- Vampiric squirrels provide basic needs for those who need it in exchange for a little blood.
- Mist full of dread and rejection encircles Exile, and it must be traveled through to enter or to leave.
- In the mist, face a recreation (pure or mixed with someone else's) of a time Star Children had to make a choice that could result in some form of exile.
- If everyone picks exile, travel easier through Exile.
- If not everyone picks exile, face further dangers: misdirection, fights against clever creatures, the swamp of sorrows, etc
Content Warnings: Explosions, Wild Environmental Changes, Small or Large Forced Physical Changes, Potentially Permanent Changes, Forced Proximity
The cracks that wracked Folkmore have been sealed, but the Encantado remains uneasy. The river threw itself farther into Exile to avoid cracks creeping along its banks. It abandoned many gems in the river bed and flows across new ground—both to curious effects. The magic in the gems has nowhere to go. It builds and builds within until cracks begin to show. If left untended, these gems explode in a bout of chaotic magic changing the land around them and perhaps even nearby Star Children. Enjoy the new hair color, the longer hair, the brighter eyes, the galaxies of freckles, and more. They're permanent unless another Star Child can help. The new flowing magic within Exile changes the land around it. The trees grow and grow until they seem a century old or older. Their branches intertwine across the river, and their roots sing. Wood taken from them has magical properties, raw and unrefined.
Magically inclined Star Children, Star Children of great mental reasoning, or any other pertinent skill may observe these effects and determine how to address them. Whether Star Children come up with the solution on their own or get nudged along by a slight dark fox spirit, there are two primary solutions: restore the river to its original path or help it along this new one.
Star Children may work to restore the river by carrying its water from the new river banks and pouring it onto the old river bed. The water can be carried in any vessel, and it's safe so long as the water is not spilled. When water spills, it changes the environment where it hits. A small mound becomes an enormous hill. A small dip becomes a deep ravine. The trees web together. The weather stoops to head level. It's wild magic, and in its wildness: dangerous.
Star Children may work to establish the new path by carrying its gems from the old river bed to the new river stream. The gems may be carried by any means: wrap them in cloth, wear gloves, or move them with telekinesis, or any other mode preventing touch. It is safe so long as gems do not touch skin. When gems touch skin, it changes the Star Children greatly. They may turn into a tree or be made of bark. They may lose the ability to speak and instead yip like a dolphin. They may turn into water and be unable to move themselves. It's a great change, and in its greatness: dangerous.
Both tasks are easier achieved in pairs and small groups. The magic in the water, the magic in the gems, can flow into the Lore generated between Star Children. Traveling together, Star Children may see Lore as motes of light or glowing threads or flowing water. The effects of spill and touch are lessened and split but present a new element: affected Star Children must remain near each other for some hours. The greater the spill or longer and larger the touch, the more hours. Travel farther than a few feet and hit a solid wall. It's impossible to move further without magically dragging the other Star Child along.
Either or both options shall settle the wild magic into its place. Star Children cannot work at cross purposes, only determine how much one way or the other.
One time—and only one time—upon successfully bringing water or a gem to the other side, a gem will split open and reveal an item from home. It may even may even be a weapon or magical item. Oh, and it may be from one's partner's home. The magic is a bit wild.
The cracks that wracked Folkmore have been sealed, but the Encantado remains uneasy. The river threw itself farther into Exile to avoid cracks creeping along its banks. It abandoned many gems in the river bed and flows across new ground—both to curious effects. The magic in the gems has nowhere to go. It builds and builds within until cracks begin to show. If left untended, these gems explode in a bout of chaotic magic changing the land around them and perhaps even nearby Star Children. Enjoy the new hair color, the longer hair, the brighter eyes, the galaxies of freckles, and more. They're permanent unless another Star Child can help. The new flowing magic within Exile changes the land around it. The trees grow and grow until they seem a century old or older. Their branches intertwine across the river, and their roots sing. Wood taken from them has magical properties, raw and unrefined.
Magically inclined Star Children, Star Children of great mental reasoning, or any other pertinent skill may observe these effects and determine how to address them. Whether Star Children come up with the solution on their own or get nudged along by a slight dark fox spirit, there are two primary solutions: restore the river to its original path or help it along this new one.
Star Children may work to restore the river by carrying its water from the new river banks and pouring it onto the old river bed. The water can be carried in any vessel, and it's safe so long as the water is not spilled. When water spills, it changes the environment where it hits. A small mound becomes an enormous hill. A small dip becomes a deep ravine. The trees web together. The weather stoops to head level. It's wild magic, and in its wildness: dangerous.
Star Children may work to establish the new path by carrying its gems from the old river bed to the new river stream. The gems may be carried by any means: wrap them in cloth, wear gloves, or move them with telekinesis, or any other mode preventing touch. It is safe so long as gems do not touch skin. When gems touch skin, it changes the Star Children greatly. They may turn into a tree or be made of bark. They may lose the ability to speak and instead yip like a dolphin. They may turn into water and be unable to move themselves. It's a great change, and in its greatness: dangerous.
Both tasks are easier achieved in pairs and small groups. The magic in the water, the magic in the gems, can flow into the Lore generated between Star Children. Traveling together, Star Children may see Lore as motes of light or glowing threads or flowing water. The effects of spill and touch are lessened and split but present a new element: affected Star Children must remain near each other for some hours. The greater the spill or longer and larger the touch, the more hours. Travel farther than a few feet and hit a solid wall. It's impossible to move further without magically dragging the other Star Child along.
Either or both options shall settle the wild magic into its place. Star Children cannot work at cross purposes, only determine how much one way or the other.
One time—and only one time—upon successfully bringing water or a gem to the other side, a gem will split open and reveal an item from home. It may even may even be a weapon or magical item. Oh, and it may be from one's partner's home. The magic is a bit wild.
- The Encantado River needs its magic stabilized either by restoring its path or establishing its new one (both is good).
- Gems in the riverbed explode, affecting people. Environment near the new path changes quickly.
- To restore its path, carry water from new to old without spilling.
- Spilling water causes large environmental changes.
- To establish the new path, carry gems from old to new without touching them.
- Touching gems causes large magical/physical changes to people.
- Effects are lessened when working in a group. However, messing up forces people to stay in close proximity for hours!
- After one (and only one) successful run, receive an item from home or your partner's home. It may be a weapon or magical item.
- Link your threads to impact where the Encantado winds up!

no subject
Not that she'd say anything about that to Rin. Rin doesn't need the guilt or expectation of something because Gideon's going through things in the mist to get them out of Exile faster. Instead of waiting out their time together, parting ways, and leaving the newbie to face it alone. She turns the teleportation ring on her finger and sighs.
The room isn't entirely familiar. It must be from Rin's memory. However, in the room is a wardrobe that Gideon recognizes. That recognition pulls at her. Gideon stares at it, at what must be inside. There's only so many times she snooped around in Harrow's things at the First House. What she'll find exactly doesn't bother her, but she doubts this vision will stop at the head.
"Don't know what you do, but me, I know I'm supposed to check out that thing," Gideon points. "Spoilers, dead body parts. We shouldn't get attacked on my part. Cytherea didn't attack me at this time, but you know, you never know what Thirteen'll do. So."
She shrugs. It'd be easier to be attacked by a lyctor than what she expects to face. Well, except that might get her companion killed, and Gideon experienced enough people dying around her in the First House already. More than enough. Too many. So she doesn't cross her fingers and hope for a boss fight over an emotional bomb.
no subject
(It's experienced memory alterations before. That happened to its memory of AdaCol1, after the...flashback...happened. This doesn't feel like that, but the similarity is enough to make it start to panic.)
"What the fuck is going on," it says, as its arms wrap around itself. It doesn't move. It just stares at the room, as all of its organics crawl. Though there's one thing it can't less pass. "What dead body parts? How do you know?"
no subject
She comes back to sit next to Rin and stares at a part of the room that is on the far side of the wardrobe. It stands out, the ancient crumbling piece of furniture from the First House and the rest of this room. It's a bone shard stabbing into her eyes. It can wait.
"We're in one of Thirteen's trials. I've been through it before, so I know a bit how this specific one works," Gideon says. All introduction before getting to the hard stuff. "I've also been here for years, so I've been through a lot of trials. One of your memories and one of mine have been combined. We have to get through the combined memory together and make decisions. If we make the 'right' ones, we get out of Exile without any further problems. If we don't, we'll probably have to fight something.
"I recognize the wardrobe, and since most of the time it didn't warrant being in a dun dun memory trial, I'm pretty sure it's from the time I found a box with a corpse's head in it." She leans her head on her knees. The head in the box doesn't bother her on its own, but she wouldn't choose to share what came after if it were wholly up to her. Well, in a way it was. She chose to do the trial, whatever it shared, to help Rin. It was her choice to be here. This memory can't shame her.
no subject
(And how the hell did Thirteen access its memories? It starts a full system diagnostic, trying to detect any evidence of hacking.
It also dedicated 37% of its internal processes to panicking about this.)
"The right decisions according to who," it asks, its voice as sharp as a knife. Decisions were hard, and maybe some of the choices it had made weren't the best. But they were its choices. Not anybody else's. And it didn't want anyone else telling it whether they were right or wrong.
But then Gideon explains about the box with the dead human's head inside. Finding corpses was almost always something distressing to humans. This was likely difficult for Gideon.
"...Was the corpse someone you knew," it says, its voice softer now.
no subject
She hasn't even opened the box, and she needs to talk about it. Most worlds aren't very comfortable with death, but the whole issue of the head being in a box is because it wasn't a natural death. It wasn't one of the ancients of the Ninth keening over in old age. Protesilaus was old enough to have kids, and some people might claim he was past the prime of his life, but he was very much of his life. Or had been. It was murder. He was murdered.
"Yes and no," Gideon says. "I met Protesilaus Ebdoma before I found his head in a box, but it turns out he'd been dead the whole time I knew him. Murdered before he arrived at the first house. The man I'd 'met' was just a walking corpse."
Her anger slips out, but it's mostly at herself. She should have recognized what had happened. She'd seen it before. Harrow recognized it. Gideon sighs, "Cytherea killed Dulcinea and Protesilaus before I ever met them. It's weird to mourn people you never met."
Gideon Nav, however, has practice. She mourned her mother for almost two decades before she had any clue who she really was.
no subject
"A walking corpse?" it asks. (Immediately, it remembers a dead human body, still and covered in spores and yet still looking at it - and shoves those memories aside. It doesn't want to think about that. It can't.
The person Gideon is talking about mustn't have been like that. She'd have noticed. Right?)
"...I don't think it's weird," it says. Thinking of all the dead humans it's seen. It also hadn't known some of them when they were still alive. It still didn't like seeing their dead bodies.
(Dead humans always felt like failure. Even if protecting them wasn't its job in the first place.)
no subject
"Necromancy. That's what magic is in my world. If that freaks you out, that's okay. It freaks out a lot of people here. I can't change where I come from."
Gideon shrugs. She's really putting it off, but she shouldn't.
"The problem here isn't so much the head itself. I mean, it is, but we'd already suspected he was murdered by the time I found it. It's... where I found it. That's Harrow's wardrobe. I thought she'd done it." Gideon stands and stares at the wardrobe. "What would you do if you thought the friend you'd known the longest was a cold blooded murderer?"
no subject
"Magic? Like in the really, really unrealistic serials?" it says. Said magic involving dead things seemed far less important then the fact that magic wasn't supposed to exist.
(But then, talking fauna also weren't supposed to exist. Talking fauna who could give you extra limbs. And dump you on a completely different planet. Where rocks can explode and rivers can make you unable to move away from a human and mysterious mists can turn into weird mash-ups of your memories...
...Alright, so maybe magic wasn't as unrealistic as all the rest of it.
But it was getting tired of all the impossible things that keep popping up, okay. How's it supposed to calibrate its Threat and Risk Assessments when reality keeps being stupid?)
Weirdly, the question about friends who turn out to be murderers was easier to think about.
"Help her hide the body," it says. Dr Mensah was the friend it had known the longest, and murdering someone was the last thing she'd do. Which meant if she did, it'd have to be for a very good reason. Probably they had it coming.