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memesville2020-10-25 11:03 pm
robbies) wrote in memesville2020-10-25 11:03 pm
Entry tags:
TDM - OCTOBER 2020
TEST DRIVE MEME - OCTOBER 2020
Everyone's entitled to one good scare.
CW: Violence, death, mouth trauma, vomiting, needles, razors
“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 baseball outside of it carrying faintly, it all becomes very clear—
Something is horribly wrong.
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 baseball outside of it carrying faintly, it all becomes very clear—
Something is horribly wrong.
OCTOBER 1st.
It becomes very clear very quickly that this isn’t a simple kidnapping.
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, a cartoon pack of cigarettes and accompanying cigarette dancers prance around a black and white pumpkin patch, joined by dancing skeletons, ghosts and witches as a cheerful little earworm blares: ”Thirty days til Halloween, Halloween, Halloween, thirty days til Halloween—“ |
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. AUNT MYRNA'S PARTY CHEESE SALAD.Over the course of the week, your neighbors will come by unannounced, each with a new homecooked meal to welcome you to their cozy little side of town. Meatloaf, potato salad, lamb chops. Gelatin molds — lots of gelatin molds.Someone even comes by to drop off a gelatinous yellow lump of pineapple, green peppers, celery and yellow cheese swimming in a soupy mixture of sour and whipped cream. “It’s my aunt Myrna’s recipe!” they gush once they drop the casserole tin into your hands, proceeding to rattle off every ingredient. Well, at least you won’t be starving anytime soon. When you bring it back in to your kitchen - and its cheery wallpaper and its floral patterned Pyrex dishware, you and your new...family(?) all stare at the cheese salad, the gelatin, the curiously frosted meatloaf spread. A smorgasbord courtesy of the insistent generosity! Who will take the first bite? |
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B. DON'T BE A SQUARE!
You can only avoid the cheer and the neighbors for so long, even as you sit inside enjoying all the amenities of your new home. The television can only turn its volume up to five, after all! One bright and sunny Saturday, the weather crisp and clear, news broadcasts and reruns of The Ed Sullivan Show are drowned out by the music in the neighborhood. Eventually it’s too much to bear — you simply must put on your shoes and go discover the source of that infernal racket.Why, it’s the block party! Haven’t you seen the invitation — with instructions — sitting in your mailbox, silly? Wear a badge so everyone on the block can know you’re new and welcome you to their extended family!
Well! Each neighbor was supposed to set up a table with snacks and drinks and entertainment on their front lawn. Carter Mayhew, one of your Robbie neighbors, has a whole ring toss obstacle course set up for boys to play with, and his wife is cheerfully and blandly instructing a group of girls on jump rope rhymes. Colorful streamers hang from every lamppost and mailbox, balloons and party favors galore. Like you, there are even a few newcomers to Santa Rosita that are caught just as unaware of this event — though others are being welcomed in by husbands and wives and children, caught in conversations about building decks and the upcoming Halloween festivities.
Before you can decide if returning home or joining the party is your choice, a plate with chips and dips and yes, more gelatin is shoved into your hands and a party hat snapped on to your head.
“The guest of honor has arrived! Come and meet your neighbors, neighbor!”
THROUGHOUT OCTOBER.
|
Life falls into a peaceful haze for the next several days. Dull, unassuming, tranquil. As the month drags on, the spirit of Halloween begins to manifest in Santa Rosita, from the pumpkins people start putting out on their doorsteps to the smiling faces of paper skeletons pressed against their windows. And then, towards the end of the month, something terrible happens. You hear it first through word of mouth, rippling through Santa Rosita like a wave, dark murmurs accompanied by sad sighs and downturned eyes. Soon, you start to read about it. Grim business, they say. A tragedy. How could something like this happen. People stop talking about it by the end of the week. Best just to forget about it. Every day, that cigarette commercial comes on. It’s impossible to escape it. And every day, the number of days in the song changes, counting down. ”Thirteen days till Halloween—” “Eight more days til Halloween—” “Three more days til Halloween, Halloween, Halloween…” |
HALLOWEEN.
CW: Violence, death, mouth trauma, vomiting, needles, razors
|
October 31st. It sneaks up on you whether you like it or not. When dawn breaks on Halloween day, things are as serene as they’ve ever been as men do yard work, raking leaves as their wives bake fresh pie and cookies in the house, the spicy scent of cinnamon, apple and pumpkin wafting through the neighborhood on chilly October wind. There’s a smile on every child’s face as they skip off the school bus in the afternoon, running into their houses to get their costumes ready. As it begins to get dark, the residents of Santa Rosita start lighting their jack-o-lanterns. One by one, little balls of light flicker to life on every porch and doorstep, jagged smiles grinning in the dark. For the entire night, nobody blows the candle inside their pumpkins out. It’s a tradition, a very old one, and traditions are just another way of saying rules. And Halloween in Santa Rosita, as it turns out, lives and dies by the rules. |
A. ALWAYS CHECK YOUR CANDY.
Halloween isn’t just for the kids, although they certainly make up the bulk of who you’ll see out and about on the streets. Walking through Santa Rosita, your neighbors are as generous with handing out treats as they are with handing out gelatin molds and pot roasts, and they don’t discriminate. Adults are received just as warmly as children; the worst one can expect is a quirked eyebrow if they show up to a house without a costume.Apples, packs of gum, homemade cookies. Chocolate bars, nickels, popcorn balls. Your neighbors hand out all sorts of treats, most of them homemade. The Robbies are no exception, and it’s their treats that seem a bit more high quality than most, some of the candy they hand out being obviously expensive, brand names. The good stuff. They drop each treat into your bag with those same pleasant, mild expressions and too-tight smiles you’ve grown used to in your short time here.
Eventually, as everyone winds up doing at some point in the night, you decide to start digging into your treat bag to sample some of your well-earned goods — maybe in the comfort of your home, maybe outside on the streets. And that’s when the fun begins.
Maybe you bite into metal, the razor sharp end of a blade embedded into the apple or candy bar you’ve picked out burying itself in your gums, or splitting your tongue. Maybe it’s a needle, impaling itself straight through the roof of your mouth or a cheek. Or maybe it’s nothing that obvious. Maybe the realization that something is wrong comes moments after you’ve devoured that chocolate bar or cookie, the bitter aftertaste of rat poison hitting the back of your throat along with bile and the rest of the contents of your stomach as they rise up and out of your mouth.
Or maybe you’ll bite into plain, sweet chocolate or fresh fruit. That’s also part of the surprise. You really don’t know what you’ll get until you start eating.
B. ALWAYS RESPECT THE DEAD.
At ten o’clock, all the television sets in the neighborhood turn on, blaring to life right in the middle of that omnipresent cigarette commercial. The volume begins to rise of its own accord as your television starts to pick up interference, bursts of static squealing amidst the rising, screaming chorus of ”HAPPY HAPPY HALLOWEEN, HALLOWEEN, HALLOWEEN!”Breaking through the static, garbled and tinny, a child’s voice cries out.
“Can’t— I can’t hold them— back— Pumpkin— don’t blow the— out—”
And just as quickly as it cut in, the voice cuts back out. Commercial jingle notwithstanding, you’re alone once more. But not for long.
The doorbell rings. You can see them outside from your window: costumed children. Their masks and clothes are grimy and ragged from the muddy, slimy water they’ve been decomposing in for over a week. When they come to your door, squelching wetly as they shamble up the porch steps, they ring the bell or knock, as all polite children do. If you don’t let them in, they’ll find their own way, always by force. And once they find you, all they can gurgle in their reedy, waterlogged voices is, ”Trick or treat.”
From there, they attack.
With superhuman strength and speed, they tear and rip at anything they can get their hands on — clothing, skin, muscle, face, eyes. Being short and small, despite their strength, they're at a distinct disadvantage. They can even be thrown off, with some effort. But they don’t stay down for long, and attempting to hurt or mortally wound them only stalls them for a few moments, if that. How can you kill something that’s already dead?
Some in the neighborhood are willing to try and find out.
The only houses they seem to ignore completely are the ones with lit jack-o-lanterns still outside. They’ll loiter outside these houses, staring straight ahead at your door or window like they can see exactly where you are. But sooner or later, they’ll pass by and move onto the next house.
As long as the candles in carved pumpkins stay lit.
OOC INFO
Hello, and welcome to We're Still Here's first TDM! Here's a few things we'd like you to keep in mind:
The TDM is canon. You can treat this as the game's first real 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. Upon awakening from it, characters will find that time has jumped ahead to December 1st. You may also feel free to use similar reality and/or time distortions to explain why the family members your characters have in the TDM aren't the same as the ones they may be assigned to in the game proper.
If you would like to have Halloween content in your relaxed housing prompts, please feel free! You are not beholden to follow our prompts exactly so long as the spirit is maintained.
There is no Network prompt listed, but feel free to wildcard one for your characters anyway.
Although the TDM is canon in the sense that characters are free to remember its events when they app into the game, it does not count as an official plot heavy event, meaning that characters will not receive regains from participating in it.
With regards to the dead trick-or-treaters: you may NPC them however you'd like, but keep the details we've listed in their prompt in mind. They are supernaturally fast and strong, will ignore houses as long as they have a lit pumpkin on the porch outside, and will try to enter each house the moment the candle in the pumpkin goes out. Additionally, they can't be killed, but they can be momentarily stalled by injuring them. By November 1st, 6AM, they will disappear the moment the sun comes out.
The TDM is canon. You can treat this as the game's first real 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. Upon awakening from it, characters will find that time has jumped ahead to December 1st. You may also feel free to use similar reality and/or time distortions to explain why the family members your characters have in the TDM aren't the same as the ones they may be assigned to in the game proper.
If you would like to have Halloween content in your relaxed housing prompts, please feel free! You are not beholden to follow our prompts exactly so long as the spirit is maintained.
There is no Network prompt listed, but feel free to wildcard one for your characters anyway.
Although the TDM is canon in the sense that characters are free to remember its events when they app into the game, it does not count as an official plot heavy event, meaning that characters will not receive regains from participating in it.
With regards to the dead trick-or-treaters: you may NPC them however you'd like, but keep the details we've listed in their prompt in mind. They are supernaturally fast and strong, will ignore houses as long as they have a lit pumpkin on the porch outside, and will try to enter each house the moment the candle in the pumpkin goes out. Additionally, they can't be killed, but they can be momentarily stalled by injuring them. By November 1st, 6AM, they will disappear the moment the sun comes out.
you come at me with this canon point IN MY OWN HOME
I will not be leaving your house - thanks for opening the door, by the way - and wander directly into the weirdly sharp claws of a bunch of kids, Lana.
[he flicks his hand to punctuate this, completely unaware of what she expects of him for once, and sends a few droplets of blood on to the wall with the now-broken window. making a mess of everything, as usual.]
You don't happen to have your TEC-9s with you, do you? [asked like he knows the answer to that question already, because he does.]
Shhhhhh shhhhhh it's okay lie back and think about how she's not married yet
Okay, no. Not true. She'd give a fuck. ]
Sorry I didn't open the door for some asshole who clearly didn't get the memo about the zombie kids. [ she doesn't sound very sorry. Only sarcastic. ] My thoughts kinda have been focused on the bigger issue of my daughter being left alone.
[ a pause, then a sigh,] No. I don't. You have any weapons?
I'M STILL VERY SAD
AJ's alone?! I thought she was in goddamn Switzerland! [this is only going to get more confusing, apparently. archer grouses angrily as he haphazardly yanks the curtains closed.] Which, by the way, was still a shitty idea!
[he pinches his nose for a moment, exhaling in a rare show of actually being kind of stressed by the situation, then nods.]
I have some-- crappy pistol I got from a hardware store. Dunno if it shoots bullets or BBs, haven't checked, wasn't too keen on shooting children.
Well buckle in it's about to get worse
But somehow, she manages and out of no where. She punches him in the arm with her big hands. ]
When did you wake up -- or was the coma just some sort of stupid joke, Archer?
wow ok wow
archer doesn't even know she's doing it unknowingly, not even when she says AJ is only three instead of six, like he knows her. what, you think archer's going to employ critical thinking? get outta here.]
Yes, Lana, it's all a huge joke! My legs don't barely work, I'm just putting it on for a big goddamn laugh at your expense! [there's actual venom in his voice there, as he gestures angrily at his cane.] What the hell are you talking about?! You sent her to boarding school! She's almost six! Not-- not to mention Robert is the only joke here!
[they should probably sit down for a moment and think about this rationally.
...or they could keep screaming at each other. let's guess which one they'll pick!]
no subject
That said, who the fuck is Robert? ]
No, you dumbass, she's three! I should know; we had her birthday at your hospital bed, Archer and why the absolute shit would I send a three year old to boarding school, she's smart but not that smart! [ She sucks in air through her teeth and then squints at him, the zombie children are banging at the door and one is behind them reaching through the window to get at them. ]
And who the hell is Robert, Archer? I've been single since you went into the coma seven months ago on some false hope that maybe you'd wake up and -- [ nope. Nope. Nuuuuuuupe. Not going there. She's (surprisingly) gentle in shoving Archer away from the grabbing hands and she smacks each little one like they were a grabby toddler. ]
Do you mind? We're kinda busy here! [ it works. For a few minutes. As the hands slowly retreat for a second. Banging doesn't stop, but the the poor zombie children look bewildered by this method of stopping them. ]
Give me your goddamn gun, we're finding out if it shoots bullets.
1/2
Seven months? So you're just conveniently here a month before your marriage? [there's not as much venom, this time. archer knows lana well enough to know she doesn't let things go, for better or worse. she wouldn't just pretend the whole robert thing didn't happen. she definitely knows him well enough to know he's kind of-- awkwardly disassociating out of this strange situation and trying to work out if he wants to keep trying to push it off or actually say something that might be mildly useful.
at any rate, he's kind of ignoring the zombie/possibly high on meth children; they've faded into the background with the ringing of his tinnitus.
maybe this is just another dream, like he'd thought it was. it sure seems like it. at the same time, it kind of continually hurts his heart to hear that lana did actually wait with hope he'd wake up then just, what, got bored?
a little uncharacteristically hopelessly:] I was asleep for three years.
no subject
Jesus Christ, Lana, they're just kids!
[with that, he kicks the door half-way closed, stopped only by their freakish strength and grunts in surprise, jamming the rod against the door to stop them opening it entirely again.]
no subject
At first, she desperately wants to call bullshit on him, she absolutely should call bullshit on him. But he looks so helpless and sounds so tiny and not at all like an asshole.
But then he goes and rips the curtain rod off the window and yells at her that they're just children. ]
If you haven't noticed, Archer, they're also clearly not human children. [ a pause ] Not anymore at least.
And back up buckaroo, the hell do you mean I'm married? To who? Please tell me it's not Cyril.
[ There's a benefit at the hospital in the next month, does she get married there? Does she find someone and fall in love that fast? Her mind races and she swears as she takes a shot. It doesn't penetrate skin and she stares at the gun. ]
This is a BB gun Archer. [ She still takes another shot, just in case. ] Kitchen. Get an aresol and a lighter.
no subject
[call him old fashioned, but there's something really wrong about the mother of his child talking about setting these kids on fire. archer shakes his head as things get a little fuzzy and for a moment, the kids are replaced with a little legion of borts cheering for his gladiatorial arena.]
No, it's-- [he's cut off by the rod digging into the carpet under the strength of these little bastards, prompting him to slam into the door with his shoulder to shove it back. he shifts to slam his back against the door, glancing back at her and rubbing his face briefly. it figures of everyone, lana would be the one to actually make archer react like a human. he keeps his hand on his face for a moment, paling under the confusion and stress of it all. how can she not know--] --Robert, I said! Are you kidding me?
[also, he thinks, if he woke up and she'd married cyril, he might've killed someone. probably cyril. or himself. maybe both? unclear.
also:] You know, I really don't think I'm in the mood to defy the Geneva Convention today!