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TRANQUILIZERS ([personal profile] robbies) wrote in [community profile] memesville2021-03-10 05:07 pm
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TDM - MARCH/APRIL 2021


TEST DRIVE MEME - MARCH/APRIL 2021

It's the day the devil in us gets released.


“Help me. Please, help me…”

A child’s voice, calling out for aid. There’s no rhyme or reason for when it comes to you. It’s so quiet, a whisper in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Were it not for the sharp, stabbing pain it pulls out of you, you could ignore it. You could even pretend it’s just your imagination.

It all happens so quickly and powerfully. Left in the dust, your brain struggles to process it all. Blacking out is the least it can do, but it’s also all it can do, and it does so before you even have a chance to fully register just how young the voice is, and how deeply, heartbreakingly lost it sounds.

When you finally awaken with your bare feet tangled in soft sheets, a layer of fuzzy fleece or slinky silk clinging to your body like another layer of skin, the sunlight pouring in from the window next to your bed momentarily blinding you, and the cries of happy children playing outside of it carrying faintly, it all becomes very clear—

Something is horribly wrong.

MARCH 1st.

It becomes very clear very quickly that this isn’t a simple kidnapping.
  • If you’re twenty years old or older, the bedroom you wake up in is very clearly a couple’s bedroom — with separate beds like a modest, modern couple of course! A similarly lost and confused stranger is in the other. They are your counterpart, for everything in this room has a matching counterpart — the nightstand and lamp each of you have beside your beds, the framed pictures on the wall, even your pajamas.

  • If you’re under twenty years old, your room is smaller but more personalized, filled with comic books, model kits, stray baseball cards littered around the floor. Dolls, fashion magazines of people dressed from a bygone era, stacks of vinyl records neatly arranged next to a record player.
And then there are the pictures. They’re everywhere in the house — in a frame on your nightstand, hung on the walls, stuck in the photo albums and scrapbooks lying on your desk or tucked away in drawers. Here you are on your wedding day, exchanging vows with your partner. Here’s you sitting in a fishing boat with one of the younger members of your house. Here’s a picture of you at ten years old getting ready for the first day of school. All of the photographs are aged, sepia, even yellowed and dusty in frames hung for a long, long time.

By the time you make it down to the living room, you’ll notice that the television is on; someone must have forgotten to turn it off before they went to bed. On it, the morning news is playing.

With their charity luncheon a rousing success, the Happy Home Association later donated all of their proceeds to the Santa Rosita Planning Commission. Debra, a member of the HHA, said the amount they donated more than ensures that 1961 will be an eventful year for us here in our fair town…

GETTING TO KNOW THE NEIGHBORS.

As you get acclimated, you gradually begin to learn more about this strange new world you’ve found yourself in. You’re in a neighborhood on the east side of a town called Santa Rosita located… somewhere in California (wherever or whatever that might be). The year is 1961.

If it wasn’t clear enough, your neighbors are more than willing to humor you if you ask. Even if you accost them with questions and demands. Sure, you and your family are a little kooky, and you have a very overactive imagination, but the key to any good joke is playing along! And how could something like “I’m from the future, from another world” be anything but a joke?

A. DRINK UP.

With March incoming, spring is in the air and everybody seems to be excited to get out of their house and enjoy the good weather. Birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and guys and gals alike are out to take a brisk walk and socialize! Wanting to make sure you’re feeling truly welcome to the town, whether you’re brand new or went through such a wild winter with them, your neighbors will be on their way with gifts aplenty. Delicacies such as tomato aspic and potato salad and bologna cake will ensure that your fridge is full to bursting, and no matter how you try to demur, they’re insistent that you accept their offerings.

March also brings with it St. Patrick’s Day, and some of your neighbors are feeling festive! A knock at the door, and you’ll find yourself confronted with a plate full of 7-Up Cheese Aspic, wiggling and bright. “I saw this recipe and just knew I had to try it!” the beaming cook says, pushing it into your hands. “And with St. Patrick’s Day coming up, we should all be getting in the spirit, right?”

The combination of cheese cubes, raw onions, and green olives in a mixture of lime jello and fizzy 7-Up might be a bit off-putting to some. But you never know until you try! Go on, give it a whirl!

B. SPRING CLEANING.

It’s a beautiful, picturesque Saturday in the neighborhood—the sun rising, banishing the dark shadows of night, the birds beginning to peep and tweet, the morning dew sparkling on the grass…

“Morning, neighbor!”

“Hello, pal!”

“Time to brush off the cobwebs, huh, fellows?”

“You said it!”

And as one, several lawn mowers come to life with a synchronized roar, breaking the peace of your quiet Saturday morning.

All over the neighborhood, windows are being thrown wide and the mops and brooms, hedge clippers and lawn mowers, gardening and carpentry tools alike are being brought out as the townsfolk set to combing every inch of their house and yard (and in Mr. Martin’s case, literally!) to bring it to order after a long winter. Everybody has a job, from the oldest old man to the youngest child, and everybody’s pitching in to do their part and ensure Santa Rosita enjoys another beautiful year.

And don’t think they’ll leave you, their new neighbor and best friend, out of the picture! You might emerge from your house one day to pick up the paper and find there’s a Robbie in your front yard, whistling cheerfully as he prunes your front hedges. One of your neighbors might make a cracking joke about how they can’t have you feeling left out as he rolls his lawn mower into your yard, or you might receive some new gifts in the form of seedlings and sprouts all ready to be hardened off and planted (you do know what that means and how to do it, don’t you?). Careful—if you let that salt linger too long on your car, one of the well-meaning neighbor kids might take some initiative and wash it for you! Watch out—first they’ll come for you with the hose for a laugh, but then they’ll come for your wallet when they beam and hint that, “Oh, it was nothing… I was happy to do it…”


HAPPY FAMILIES.

It becomes very clear very quickly that this isn’t a simple kidnapping…

Hey, hold on a second—haven’t we been through this already?

When your eyes open to the sound of your alarm, there’s something pinging at the back of your mind—you might not be able to place what it is right away, but something’s wrong. Maybe it’s the feeling of your pajamas, or maybe the sheets are a slightly greener shade of blue, or maybe your alarm is a tiny bit shriller than it usually is… but whatever it is, it’s got all your senses on alert. Getting up and out of bed, it may become immediately obvious—or maybe not, if your “spouse” has already woken up and gone downstairs for the day.

But sooner or later, you’ll find that your loving family is no longer your loving family.

Something weird is going on with Santa Rosita, and whatever force brought you here seems to be on the fritz. Your “family” can change by the day—you might go to bed in your home on Mockingbird Lane and wake up in an entirely new family on Loomis Drive. Curiously, your belongings seem to travel with you… most of the time. Sometimes they’ll be lost in transit, and that lovely little black dress you bought at Honeybee’s has somehow ended up in one of your neighbors’ closets. Hopefully you’re on good terms with your neighbors so that you can get your stuff back!

Your neighbors seem entirely nonplussed by the frequent swapping of households. Ask any of them and they’ll say you’ve always lived there, that your son has always been your son, and you’ve never had a daughter, silly! As all the photos in your house seem to change along with them, it’ll be hard to find anything that might prove them wrong.

TOPSY-TURVY.

While your families are constantly shifting, that doesn’t seem to be the only thing going sideways. The entire city of Santa Rosita seems to be in a state of flux—days might go from mild at dawn to scorching by noon and back to December snow by dusk. Winds howl in single gusts before dying down, and rain falls such that you can stand on one side of the curtain of rain and stay dry while you stick your hand into the deluge two feet away.

Doors in your home cannot be trusted; similar to December, it’s possible for them to open up to entirely different locations. However, unlike December, the doors don’t all lead to a singular place—where they’ll lead at any given moment is anyone’s guess! You might find yourself on the other side of town, back at the site of the now-gone Christmas village, or even in one of your neighbors’ houses. Maybe you can use your bedroom for a quick commute to work or school if you get lucky or are persistent enough? Curiously, locations like city hall and the police department never pop up when you find somewhere new on the other side of your door; neither will NPC households.

As if that wasn’t enough, ghosts and goblins seem to appear and disappear with the changing of the hour. Paranormal activity of all types run rampant, ranging from innocuous to intense. You may return home to find that everything in your kitchen has been shifted by two inches… or you may wake up to find your dresser floating midair and coming back down to the ground with a resounding crash! Ghosts appear, dressed in any style and fashion up through those of 1961 (or sometimes, strangely, in clothing that’s odd and futuristic for Santa Rosita’s quaint streets), and it might be possible to find other mythical creatures around the town from time to time, though the storybook unicorns and witches seem to disappear whenever you get too close. Further, there’s something that seems to have taken up residence under your bed, though it’s never there when you try to look or catch it. But how else do you explain its cold, withered, knobbly fingers as they lock around your ankle if your leg hangs off the bed at night? Its sharp nails scratching at your heels as it tries to grab you when you get out of bed in the middle of the night? The sound of breathing that fills your room at night and the faint clammy breath on your face in the instant before you open your eyes?

Wandering packs of zombie children may show up in your neighborhoods in the night—surely you’ve stocked up on pumpkins to make a new jack-o’-lantern, right? Doppelgangers and ferthurs appear and disappear in shifts; you may be looking out the window when it happens: A slight shift in the air, almost like a video ripping, and they’re gone, transported back to wherever they came from. Maybe they were chasing you when they disappeared; you might turn around to find that nothing is there (was it ever?).

Still other are the mysterious figures you might see around town. You’ll find that no matter how often you see them, you’ll never be able to describe them to someone else; the words will escape you every time. Are they short? Tall? Stout? Petite? Dark hair? Light hair? Smiling? Frowning? Nobody who sees them can agree, but one thing is for sure: They’re watching you, and they’ll appear at random, whether that’s standing in your corner watching you sleep or trailing after you through the grocer’s. None of the NPCs will notice these figures, though they do seem to give them a wide berth if possible—almost like they can unconsciously sense the prospect of danger.

The only respite from the chaos seems to be that not everything happens at once, and at other times of the month the city is downright peaceful. There’s no reason or rhyme to the starts and stops of the monsters, the figures, the doors or the weather; check the almanacs and mark the night skies (when it isn’t hidden behind snowfall or turbulent clouds), but try as you might, you won’t be able to find a pattern.

All you can do is hope that this passes quickly.


OOC INFO

Hello, and welcome to We're Still Here's third TDM! Here's a few things we'd like you to keep in mind:

We’re Still Here is taking a short pause for the months of March and April. This TDM will span both months and we encourage everybody to tag out, tag in, backtag, and start new threads as you please! Apps will reopen in May.

The TDM is canon. You can treat this as a real game-wide event and pick and choose what threads you would like your character to remember when they enter the game. For characters who app into the game, the events of the TDM will be treated like a dream.

Please note that there is a lot going on in this TDM — this is intentional! We wanted to give you, the players, a full world and event to play with that could last beyond the usual event or TDM cycle. You may cherry-pick from the above prompts as you please and take reasonable liberties as you would like; if you have any questions, you may use the mod top-level below to ask them.

For current players, the Housing page has been updated with new assignments! These assignments are temporary and will be subject to shuffling once more at the end of the pause. As detailed in the above prompts, you may play with shifting housing as often as you would please; for those of you who do not want to make use of this prompt, the new Housing assignments are there for your convenience.

There is no Network prompt listed, but feel free to wildcard one for your characters anyway.

Please be sure to label any threads with relevant content warnings as necessary. Any questions for the mods can be asked in the mod top-level below (please note that due to the pause, these questions may be answered more slowly than normal!). For new and prospective players, please make use of the Prospective Rolodex!

▶ NAVIGATION ◀
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OOC INFO premise | rules | faq | taken | applications | hiatus/drop/canon updates | reserves | mod contact
SETTING INFO calendar | setting | housing | npcs | death and tranquilizing | the story so far | event suggestions/engagements

terminater: (priscilla ❌ 14463196)

nathan summers (marvel comics)

[personal profile] terminater 2021-03-11 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
🎵 arrival; hey, look at me, casually—
[The man called Cable. The Askani'son. Nathan Dayspring. Nathan Christopher Charles Summers. Whatever you want to call him, there is one fact about him that remains unchanged no matter where — or when — he finds himself: It takes a great deal to surprise him. Case in point, this setup. Being one of the few people on Earth who can brag about riding a dinosaur, waking up in a time period that is most definitely not his own hardly fazes him. In fact, when he wakes up, the only thing that truly perturbs him is that all of his gear has been taken from him — namely his guns. And the fact that all of his powers are gone. And that his body has (seemingly) been purged of a terminal, techno-organic illness.

The point is, there are a lot of other things to worry about before he sets his sights on the other people in the house. It's only after Nate wakes up and clinically, coldly assesses his situation (no powers, no TO, unarmed, potential hostage situation—) that he gets to work and jumps — or rather, sneaks — into action, working quickly and quietly before anyone else in the house knows that he's awake. There isn't any wire or rope around, but bed sheets work just as well in a pinch. It's important to know how to improvise.

What happens next depends on a few things.

a. To the unlucky soul sharing a bedroom with him, or anyone older than sixteen, you'll wake up in bed. Tied to the bed. With your wrists and ankles bound to the posts, it's likely that you'll be very uncomfortable. It's also likely that you may not immediately notice the huge white-haired man — easily 6'8 with a bodybuilder's physique and a stern, boxy face — in the room. He's wearing blue pajamas with yellow ducks on them. His left eye is white, blind. His sleeve is tied off where his left arm should be. He's sitting on the bed across from yours, or leaning against the doorway, looking remarkably calm.

b. To the younger children in the house, you won't receive such rough treatment. Waking up in bed, arms and legs free, everything will seem (comparatively) normal until you spot him, sitting on the ground with his legs crossed. He's patiently meditating as he waits for you to wake up.

His first words to you are the same no matter who you are:]


Hi, my name’s Nathan. I'd like to ask you a few questions.


drink up; walking away like action movie hero boy.
[So, fun fact about Nate: This isn't the first time he's been kidnapped and thrown into a Stepford hellhole populated by smiling zombies. Unlike that time, he still has all of his memories and knows exactly who he is, what he's all about. (The smiling zombies aren't brainwashed supervillains, though, so that's a plus.) So he also remembers that one of the things he really doesn't like is when people don't listen to him. Also, bologna.

The first few times his house gets a Robbie visitor, he accepts it, even takes it in stride. Takes all the inane small talk, the mile-a-minute chattering, the terrible food that either comes soaked in butter, drenched in mayonnaise, or encased in jello — sometimes all at once. But after the fifth visitor, it starts getting a little old, and when his fridge gets so cramped he can't even see the milk or eggs anymore over the LOADSAJELLO, that's when he draws the line. From this day forward, any Robbie that doesn't listen to him the first time gets grabbed by their collar or the back of their shirt like a misbehaving kitten, hauled off the porch, and thrown into the walkway. Somehow, he manages this with only one arm. Also somehow, he doesn't immediately recognize that you're not a Robbie.]


No salesmen, visitors, or jello-and-bologna cakes. Go. Away.

[It doesn't matter if you've never seen him in your life; at this point, even knocking on the door triggers a Pavlovian response. You might be able to beat him to the punch or get a word out edgewise before he tosses you out.]


topsy-turvy; in slow-mo, everything glowing.
[When the going gets bad, Cable has a few mottos, private ones he keeps under the vest but close to his heart:

Be the person you were meant to be. Help them. Do what mom and dad always do. Save them.

He also has one that's even more secret than that, one he whispers to himself in only the direst of times, the darkest of hours.

When in doubt, do what Deadpool does.

Guess which one he picks here.

The streets of Shadyside are rife with Doppelgangers spider-walking around, ferthurs shrieking before they lunge at anything they set their eyes on, and undead children armed with knives and sharp garden tools. Going outside is dangerous. Going alone is suicidal. Luckily, you won't have to worry about either of those for very long.

Alone on the street, the sound of hoofbeats hammering on the pavement is sharp and distinct in the air. A few seconds later, blood hits you like juice from a ripe tomato, square in the face, as a golden horn shoves its way through the face of whatever monster is menacing you. The thing falls, and behind it is a beautiful, white horse with a rainbow mane and a sparkling horn. Sitting bareback atop it is Nate, looking as deathly serious as the situation warrants.

He digs his legs into the unicorn's sides and takes his hand off the horse long enough to offer it to you.]


Come with me if you want to live, [he grimly says, like this is the most important thing in the world.

This is probably the worst thing you've seen today.]


a. [Unfortunately, no matter how sparkly that unicorn's horn is, your luck runs out eventually. Speeding to safety through the streets, you might notice the unicorn is beginning to look at little... transparent. Nate notices too. He doesn't have a chance to say what he needs to say before it disappears, quite literally vanishing into thin air.

You have to figure how painful it would be to fall from the back of a galloping horse — well, unicorn — so the landing isn't likely to be very pleasant at all. If you're lucky, you'll end up on someone's lawn or in a bush, cushioned by the wall. At worst, you'll end up face down on the street.

Nate gets the best of both worlds, landing between someone's yarn and the sidewalk, faceplanted into the grass. He miserably spits out a few blades of grass and drags himself to his feet.]


Stab his eyes... [His voice is a groan and his head is pounding as he walks towards you, rubbing his back. As he kneels and offers a hand to you, he says,] Didn't see that coming... You okay?


wildcard; and blowing to bits, including me.
[i mean, if you want, i won't tell you how to live.]
[ooc: yeah, this is going to be weird. if you want to plot something, throw me a PM!]
Edited 2021-03-11 06:20 (UTC)
inpersonation: (𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋. 🏠 𝑯𝑹𝑮𝑵𝑯.)

( prompt: arrival. )

[personal profile] inpersonation 2021-03-11 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ oh what in the everloving fuck.

you've got to give noelle some leeway for reacting the way she does: immediately shooting up and scrabbling back to the headboard of her bed, keeping much distance between her and the new guy as she can manage. she doesn't look scared, as most should be.

instead she looks... focused? definitely angry, wondering how the hell this happened (again) as she tries to keep some semblance of control on her side. after her hand seems to reach behind her, checking for something (the knife she has under her pillow at all times now, since she found herself all alone in her previous house), does noelle relax.

the intense expression melts to what seems to be a mixture confusion and apprehension, like she's uncertain of something or someone, with the man in her room and all. ]


... It'll depend on the questions, I think? [ she uses blossoms's soft voice for this one and will totally pretend that stutter was part of the act. noelle still doesn't feel comfortable enough to let people hear her real voice and she's glad she resisted the immediate urge to curse. ] If the first question is what I think it is- Then my name is Blossom D'Orsay.
terminater: (hyper viper beam ❌ 14463141)

[personal profile] terminater 2021-03-11 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[Nate watches her with mute indifference, softened by understanding. She sleeps with a knife under her pillow. Smart kid.]

You can relax. I'm not going to hurt you.

[In any case, whatever Noelle is — was — and whether or not she was always human doesn't matter. Shape he's in, they've at least got one bonding activity down. (And wouldn't it be wild if she didn't know what a mutant was anyway.)

Nate stretches his legs out and shifts to sit on his knees. Even with him like this and Noelle sitting up, he's still big enough to be at eye level with her. All the same, he makes an effort to shrink down lower just to make himself seem less menacing. That's a big problem with him and most people before they get to know him.

He raises his empty hands up, palms facing flat — See?]


Okay, Blossom. I'd like to know where I am, first off.
Edited 2021-03-12 18:15 (UTC)
inpersonation: (𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋. 🏠 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑪𝑲.)

[personal profile] inpersonation 2021-03-12 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ that's an easy one to answer, she supposes.

the attempts to try and look like he couldn't snap her in two are... appreciated. it's not enough to make her relax or to keep her mind off of the knife she has, just in case, but hey! it's nice to know the guy is trying to work with her here, possibly. she'll return the favor give him all the information she has.

starting with, ]
Santa Rosita. We're in a town called Santa Rosita that's allegedly in the state of California.

[ with how she says it and how she sounds incredulous about the statement, it's perhaps safe to assume to take the information with a grain of salt.

she presses on, letting him know one important bit: ]
We're apparently in the year 1961. I should let you know right away that this is a perilous place, at times? Um... A few of our own - there multiple of us in this situation, you should know now - were kidnapped and experimented on recently.
terminater: (priscilla ❌ 14463156)

[personal profile] terminater 2021-03-12 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[1961. Kidnapped. Experimented on. Nate doesn't bat an eye to any of it, his face remaining every bit as attentive and calm as it's been since Noelle woke up. One might get the sense that this is all old hat to him — and it is. Temporal kidnappings are so 1998.]

That does sound pretty perilous, [he agrees, mostly deadened to the idea of such things happening to, well, him. It's different when it's other people, especially kids, so he allows himself to feel a sense of ease at the purpose his new predicament has now given him: destroy everyone in charge and find a way out of here. Estimated time to be determined.]

What kind of people are here? Mutants? Inhumans? [He's not just throwing out words she might not recognize hoping one will stick; it's also his way of gauging who she is by seeing how she reacts to any of them.] Do any of them have powers?
inpersonation: (𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋. 🏠 𝑮𝑨𝑺𝑷.)

[personal profile] inpersonation 2021-03-14 03:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the only reaction the new words get is a tentative but sympathetic frown from her. mutants... is he referring to something similar to that old serial, frankenstein? that sort of mutant?

the mention of 'powers' does result in an actual response: ]
Um- Yeah. I think I remember reading a discussion about it on, um, the device we all have. People discussing powers they had like feeling metal or something? Sorry if that's not useful but I didn't read the whole thing.

[ not a total lie. she skimmed through the messages and only focused on the ones that got her attention.

she pauses now, pretending to realise something. ]
Oh! Did you find yours, mister? Your device? [ she gestures to the one settled on her bedside table, currently turned off. ] It's pretty useful! We can use it to communicate with each other and only each other, it seems?
terminater: (priscilla ❌ 14633141)

I LIVE

[personal profile] terminater 2021-04-02 04:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[Like feeling metal or something. Yep, that sounds about right. Far be it from Nate to jump the gun and conclude that there are mutants here, but there are definitely mutants here. Briefly, he wonders if she's talking about Magneto but puts that aside for the time being.]

I'm surprised you can even pick up a signal with that thing. Thought it was a toy at first. [It's a little embarrassing to admit. He starts getting up.] There any tools around here?
diamonatrix: (♕ º 01)

Wildcard~

[personal profile] diamonatrix 2021-03-30 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ Last time they had met, Emma was certain she could read this brick shithouse's mind.

Then, as she stared for a few minutes at his sleeping face in the floral bedding on the bed in this room. Idly curling the belt of her pink and hideous housecoat in her still manicured fingers, Emma posits that it is just as likely that she could not have. Or that she had been wise and blocked all memory out of her - memory - after reading Scott's fake son from his fake future. It would not have been worth the mental illness to keep that knocking about.

Unmercifully, this is not her only task at hand.

That when he wakes, it will be to encounter Emma Frost in the kitchen. It's cabinets ransacked, and coffee made in a percolator that would have been cute had it been found at a thrift store and not forced upon her through a kidnapping. A bottle of brandy has been procured from a tray in the - searched, scoured - parlor, and added liberally till cheap beans were to her taste. ]


Welcome to 1961.

[ When lumbering feet break the quiet, she taps atop a newspaper, left lying on the doormat just beyond their picket fence. ]
terminater: (priscilla ❌ 14633138)

this icon is way too scary for what this tag actually is

[personal profile] terminater 2021-04-02 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
It's usually more fun than this, [Nate replies from the foyer. He's leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

Now, there are a lot of things to be concerned about right now. Waking up next to his father's ex is one of them, but it's by no means the most important thing. Is it weird? Yes. Does he wish it could have been anyone — literally anyone — else? Yes. Is he going to drag the couch to the garage and turn that into his bedroom? Yes.

But is he going to agonize over that now when there are bigger fish to fry and she might be the only person from his world here right now? That'd be a no, captain.

He looks from the percolator filled with coffee that smells like it's been steeped in gym socks, to the bottle of brandy. He clicks his tongue.]


Not in front of the children. Thought you were classier than that.
Edited 2021-04-02 18:05 (UTC)