TDM - OCTOBER 2020

[robbies]

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.

---

OCTOBER 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, 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?

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.

---

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Comments

Erwin Smith | Attack on Titan | OTA

[13thcommander]

October 1st

[OOC: feel free to be his spouse or one of his kids if that appeals to you!]

[Erwin jerks awake with a start, his entire body contracts as he lunges forward. He nearly brains himself on his knees, and flails out with an arm that isn't there anymore to brace himself. When he fails to catch anything--of course he fails, his right arm is gone now, bitten off by a titan, he has to use his left and his left only--he nearly goes sliding to the floor, and it's only pure good luck that he stamps one foot down and manages to keep from toppling over.]

[Rocks. Flying rocks, filling the sky. Horses screaming, the soldiers around him screaming, the air full of deadly missiles, the city behind him in ruins, and a child's voice... a lost child, crying for help...]

[Erwin shakes his head. Control. Control, he has to control himself, he can't let them see him this way, he has to... he has to...]

[What?]

[Erwin opens his eyes, and takes in his surroundings for the first time. He almost fell because he's in a bed, and the sheets are made of some kind of slippery material, too soft by half. The room is too bright, too homey, too lived in. This isn't a barracks, or a hospital, or even his own quarters. It's someone's home, and he's in their bedroom, wearing pajamas and sleeping in their bed.]

What the hell?

Getting to Know the Neighbors: B

[It's been a few days, and this place, this world, still feels like a bizarre dream. Erwin would think it was the afterlife, except he's still missing his arm, and has nasty scars across his abdomen that he doesn't remember getting. He's been told, by some of the neighbors, who shake their heads indulgently and then thank him for his service, that he'd fought in something called World War II, and that's where he lost his arm, where he got his scars.]

[Except that's impossible. The idea of a world war implies a world, groups beyond the walls, and yet that's exactly what everyone here seems to believe in. They're in some place called California, in the year 1961, which is over a thousand years in the future, and honestly, some of the technology around here feels like it's from a thousand years in the future. Erwin still hasn't gotten used to cars, or the television, with its incessant chanting about something called Halloween.]

[Still, Erwin is going to survive this, and his innate curiosity starts to get the better of him when he makes it a few days without anything attacking him or any obvious danger. And when you're in uncharted, undiscovered territory, the best thing to do is to make a map of it, to figure out where you are and what's going on, so you're ready when things go to hell.]

[A big part of that is getting to know the locals, and so when everyone takes to the streets to celebrate something called a block party, Erwin ventures out to go see what it's all about. He wears clothing from the closet that is apparently his--a shirt so bright blue it's almost blinding, patterned with white flowers--and walks from stand to stand, introducing himself and trying the food.]

Hello, I'm Erwin Smith. I just got to town, and it looks like I'm your new neighbor. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Halloween: B

[Now this is more like it.]

[Erwin had dutifully followed the neighbor's advice and put candles inside carved pumpkins--seems like a waste of food, but it's cool out tonight, and he can take the pumpkins inside tomorrow to figure out how to preserve them--and so when the rotting children descend to the street, his house is left alone. Some of his neighbors, other new people like himself, weren't so lucky, and Erwin watches in horror as a house nearby gets overrun.]

[The children are small, but the swarming behavior is the same. The mindless reaching, the clamoring mouths... Erwin knows this, and knew this place was too good to be true.]

[He doesn't have his horse, or his gear, or the Survey Corps at his back. But he's got a house that the kids are leaving alone, and there's a butcher knife in the knife block in the kitchen. Erwin grabs it, and takes to the street, making a beeline for the house the kids are swarming around.]

Get outside! Come with me!

[The kids are easy enough to bounce aside, but a blow to the back of the neck only staggers them. They get back up and keep coming, and it really is like being in the middle of a nest of tiny titans.]

Get out of there! Now!

Neighbours

[choicewithnoregrets]

[After Erwin is done greeting someone, if he's not fast enough to turn around, he might feel a kick to the back of his knees.

Someone's grumpy for waking up in a weird place and now even more since he's seeing ghosts. Of course he wants to check if he's real.]

Re: Neighbours

[13thcommander]

[That kick, coming from behind and completely unexpected--he thought this world wasn't dangerous, dammit!--is enough to disrupt Erwin's balance and send him down to one knee. He manages to catch himself without face-planting, but it's a narrow thing.]

[He looks up, immediately on the defensive, ready to fight if he has to... but then he sees who kicked him, and his face goes blank.]

Levi?

[choicewithnoregrets]

Huh... either this is a shitty afterlife or you're actually alive again.

[Not that he was even close to dying himself, but he might have died of constipation for all he knows.]

Let me guess, they're calling you a war veteran too.

[13thcommander]

[Constipation sounds like a likely way for Levi to go.]

The after... oh.

[Erwin's hand goes to his left side, where he's peppered with scars he doesn't remember getting.]

Yes. They said these were shrapnel scars.

( prompt: october 1st. )

[thricefold]

Oh. You're finally awake.

[ there's a woman sitting on the edge of the bed, turning to face him properly now upon hearing him stir awake.

with her hair done up and pinned back into a bun, there's no way to deny the nervous suspicioun that lingers on her face. her hands fiddling with the ties of her bathrobe, her mouth twisting like she's attempting to figure out what she wants to say to him.

finally, she settles with a quiet, ] What do you last remember?

[13thcommander]

[Erwin just stares for a few moments, unable to find his voice to answer. He's no threat to her, but he can tell she's nervous, and focusing on her keeps him from having to ask himself any bizarre questions about where they are, or how they got here.]

[Of course, the question she asks him does nothing to push those topics aside, and Erwin blinks.]

I was riding out with the Survey Corps. We were... attacking.

[Riding straight to hell, more accurately, but there's no need to bring that up.]

And you?

[thricefold]

[ that's an easy question for her to answer: ]

Medical tent on the circus grounds. I was tending to my brother. [ her lips thin when she thinks of her sibling, clearly upset at leaving him behind. she tries to stay focused on the topic, however, more determined to figure out the mystery than wallow in her worries. ]

After that, I went out for some air. I must have passed out then because after that I...

[ she sighs and gestures to the room, looking... exasperated? her eyes keep drifting towards the walls for some reason. ]

Have you seen them yet?

[13thcommander]

[Ah, someone with medical knowledge. That's good to know, since it's almost inevitable that someone will need medical treatment at some point.]

Them?

[Erwin glances at the walls, but they just look like walls to him.]

I don't believe I have. What are they?

[thricefold]

The pictures.

[ she nods at some of them hanging on the walls, her expression shifting to one of uncertainty when she catches sight of them.

there isn't a lot of frames on the wall but there's enough to tell a story, to depict cozy scenes of family barbeques and summer outings and happy moments that she has no recollection of. you'd think she'll recall having a husband and children. ]

I think you should have a picture frame on your bedside table as well. I did when I woke up.

[13thcommander]

Oh, the pictures.

[Erwin hadn't realized there was anything strange about them, but once she points it out, he looks to his bedside table. Sure enough, there's a picture on it, and he reaches out for it, bringing it close for a better look.]

Oh, it's... it's us.

[He looks over at her, then back at the picture to be sure. Yes, it's definitely her, and him, wearing the kind of formal clothing that can only mean one thing.]

We're married?

[He definitely doesn't remember that.]

I don't even know your name.

[thricefold]

... Zita. I'm Zita Harrington where I'm from. I was most certainly not married to anyone.

[ she takes a deep breath after that little outburst, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face while trying to calm herself down. ] I'm sorry for that.

I was hoping you'd have some answers to this but, judging by your reactions and responses, that's not going to be the case.

Neighbors

[doneisdone]

[The woman who opens the door has a pointed, suspicious look about her, and the knuckles of her free hand tighten around something hidden in her grip.]

Agata Marov.

[Her tone is decidedly unfriendly.]

[13thcommander]

[Well, all right then. Definitely not one of the locals.]

Hello, Ms Marov.

[She just seems like the type that wouldn't appreciate him getting familiar and using her first name.]

I take it you're new to the neighborhood as well?

[doneisdone]

[Her gaze flickers up and down, no doubt checking him for weapons or anything similarly suspicious.

After a too-long pause,]

Yes.

[13thcommander]

I thought as much.

[Erwin sees her checking him out, and makes sure to hold himself as non-threateningly as possible.]

Would you care to trade information about where you came from, or your impressions of this place?

[doneisdone]

No.

[The first prompt is clearly guarded under lock and key, at least figuratively, though she pauses to consider the second.]

...this place is nonsensical.

[She has yet to emote beyond a sneer.]

[13thcommander]

[It's fine, Erwin's basic emote thus far has been stoic but curious suburban dad.]

I agree. It doesn't make sense to me either.

[He glances over his shoulder, like he's looking for Robbies.]

I'd like to discuss this further, but I don't believe your porch is the best location for it.

Halloween!

[freedomgrasped]

You don’t have to tell me twice!!

[ Isabel shouts as she kicks another one of the children away. They just keep coming! She’s been fighting them off for a while, but they’re persistent as hell – and at this point, she’s definitely doubting whether or not they’re even human.

Luckily, as Erwin arrives, and calls out, she’s just able to spot a route she can take. So she weaves her way through the masses of bodies – yelling out as one of the kids pulls at her hair on the way.

But with the help of a bit of violence, she just about manages to escape. Running over in Erwin’s direction, she’s about to ask what the hell they should do next, when... she suddenly stops short, her mouth opening in surprise. ]

Wait, you’re – aren’t you Erwin Smith?

[13thcommander]

[The woman in the middle of the nest of kids doesn't immediately strike Erwin as familiar, but that could be because he's paying attention to the kids swarming around him. It's so much harder to fight with only one arm, and Erwin needs to make every blow count.]

[She manages to get away from them, though, and is running towards him when she suddenly just stops, in the middle of a battleground, and then says his name.]

Yes.

[They don't have much time for a reunion, whoever she is. Something tickles at the back of Erwin's mind, telling him that he should know her, that he's seen her before, but then one of the rotting kids lunges at him, and Erwin kicks it away.]

Follow me if you want to live.

[Without saying anything else, he turns and starts battling his way back towards his own house, where the pumpkin is still burning merrily on the porch. He's doing the best he can, using his knife and blocking with his shoulders, but it's going to be a close race to get back to the porch if he doesn't have her helping him.]

[freedomgrasped]

[ It's hard to say whether he knows who she is or not, with that response. Either way... it takes Isabel a moment to notice, but - is Erwin missing his arm? When did that happen? ]

Tch. [ She basically has to go with him, doesn't she? It sounds like the smug bastard has some kind of plan. Besides, if she wants answers, it'd be a bad idea to let him get away here, wouldn't it?

So she follows along, punching and shoving children away as they grab at her and Erwin. She has a few close calls, and at one point, she sees Erwin starting to get swarmed, so she rams her way right into the one that's about to grab him, taking care of another with a swift uppercut to the jaw. ]

Watch yourself!!

[ And she continues to yell as she fights, loud and angry, but it's not until they start to reach another house that she speaks up to Erwin again. ]

That's your plan? Get us to another house?

[13thcommander]

[There's something deeply familiar about that fighting style; Erwin is sure he's seen it before, and it nags at the back of his head, taunting him towards distraction as they make their way back to his house.]

It's the pumpkins! They won't attack the houses with pumpkins!

[Erwin is panting and out of breath, and as he stumbles up onto the porch, he thinks he'd rather be fighting the bigger, slower titans than these ones that look and move like children. He'd give almost anything to have some ODM gear right about now.]

[And that's when it clicks together. He turns to face Isabel, his eyes going wide and an expression of shock spreading across his face.]

Isabel?

[freedomgrasped]

[ Isabel just makes it to the porch herself, looking back behind her to see that the children have... stopped. They're just standing there, staring. So it actually worked? She has to give it to Erwin - he knows what he's doing.

And speaking of Erwin...

So he hadn't recognized her, after all. Honestly, Isabel's offended. For him to forget the face of the one he'd blackmailed into joining the Survey Corps so soon... it's honestly insulting. It's because of him that they'd had to face the Titans, because of him that she... she...

Don't think about it. She tries to tell herself that, fighting off the fear that threatens to rise up inside her once more.

...At the very least, it's pretty funny to see his shocked expression. ]

Took you long enough! Don't tell me that you died, too?

[13thcommander]

[If nothing else, Erwin is good at following the rules. How else are you supposed to know how and when to break them if you don't first know what they are?]

I... yes, I did.

[Erwin gestures absently at his empty sleeve. Yeah, he took a few lumps along the way, and he's honestly a little surprised that she recognizes him. He's much, much older than he was when he knew her.]

[Who knew that six years could feel like, and be, the rest of his lifetime?]

We should get in the house.

[He fumbles his keys out of a pocket, and unlocks the door.]

Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?

[freedomgrasped]

[ Wait, he did die?

Huh. Now isn't that something. Isabel wonders if Levi was the one to kill him.

...Probably not. Or if he did, it took him a long time. Erwin certainly looks... older, though it took her a while to really notice that that's what was so different about him. But there's no mistaking that face.

She's completely caught off-guard by his offer, though. What, is he trying to be friends? After treating Levi the way he did? ]

...I'm fine.

[ Though honestly, if he'd had food, she probably would've taken him up on his offer. She's not the biggest fan of tea, and coffee... actually, she doesn't think she's ever tried it.

As she's thinking that, she follows him into the house. ]

How'd that happen?