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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.
( prompt: always check the candy. | eyyyy sliding in with day because i'm more certain of him!! )
daylight looks up from the candy bag he's rifling through, trying to find a particular chocolate bar he had been given earlier. it was strawberry-flavoured, and he wanted to know what strawberries in this world tasted like.
but. hm. the guy looks super serious. ] Unsafe to eat?
Are they, like, expired or something?
ayyy i welcome more day into my life \o/
But a moment ago I attempted to sample a piece of chocolate. As I did, I felt something cut my hand and shortly thereafter spotted a glint of light within. A razor blade.
[Though he's since discarded the bag of treats so no one else would be hurt, if one looked down at his other hand it was easy to see blood dripping from between his fingers.]
no subject
[ daylight's eyes widen in concern at the sight of the injury. he immediately begins to check out his pockets and candy bag, looking for some things... there they are!
from one of his pockets, daylight pulls out a random assortment of bandaids(?). from the candy bag, out comes a bottle of water. ] Here. I think you need these more than me, buddy.
no subject
The objects pulled from his pockets took him a moment to process, he's still not used to bandages being made of plastic, let alone individually wrapped. He wouldn't deny the kindness, of course. He'd rather not have the wound get worse.]
You've come prepared. My thanks, young man. [Said taking the water, opening his injured hand off to the side. Some of the blood has since dried and clotted, but as he poured water over his hand it took on a red hue as it spilled off of it. He felt a sting and his muscles tensed, but showed no expression to indicate any pain. Instead he looked back to Daylight as if his hand didn't look like he crushed a tomato. Or someone's head.]
There is some intent among the locals to do us harm, it would seem.
/slides in here like hey pretend i wasn't dead for a whole half week
but- back to the issue at hand: the idea of being targeted certainly would fit the creep factor. it'll justify the feeling he's been feeling since waking up, more human than he has any right to be, informed his family was this and that, here and there. and yet- ]
... It can't just be us, only. How would they be able to tell which candy to give to who?
[ to reinforce his point, day turns to point at one house as an example: a smiling elderly couple plies the visiting children with candies, dropping a tumble of chocolates and candy corn they blindly reach into a bowl the woman is wearing. ] Hmm. Do you know where that candy came from? Or where the last house you visited is? We can trace it back to the exact source, suss it out from there on whether this is meant for us or everyone.
same...
After cocking his head at the bandage for a moment before finally applying the fabric center to the wound, he gave the surrounding area a brief scan before stopping at the old couple who he eyed with great scrutiny.]
I don't. It given to me by a passerby with the suggestion that I share it with... ["His kids", a thought that still made his stomach twist.] -- someone else. As such, it seems unlikely that it was a targeted attack.
[It was a fool's errand to target Takame, Warrior of Light or not. As the children thanked the couple and scurried off to partake of their treats, he looked back to Daylight. The only thing that dictated his concern amidst his formally given report was his unfocused gaze shifting back to the children on occasion.]
I remember their face, however. Do you propose we still track them down?
no subject
[ and with so many kids running around...
that's what fuels daylight to take off his silly costume- removing the beard and eyepatch he hobbled together, dumping it to the ground without a second thought. (well, not really. he does apologise in his head and promises to pick it up later, if he comes back to this place.)
easier to move, easier to see, and, if it comes down to it, easier to run around. ] Take the lead and I'll follow. Night's still young so they should still be outside with all of us.
The moment you see them, let me know and I'll bumrush them. [ or something. he'll figure that bit out when the time comes. ]
no subject
It's with a nod that he first checks the immediate area, reminded of how his sight was impeded and how much he foolishly relied on it. Something to unpack later. Much, much later. Finding no familiar face as of yet he began his trek into the western part of the neighborhood, the direction he saw them go last.
As he looked back to gesture for day to follow him, he remembered something.]
What is your name, young man?
no subject
he keeps up with takame with a brisk and quick jog, his eyes darting around to keep an, er, eye for faces of passerby and other adults who pass them along the roads and sidewalks. ] Do you remember anything distinct about this person? Gender? Hair colour? Costume?
no subject
I do. A woman, no older than twenty-six summers, no younger than twenty-one, curled dark hair, light colored eyes, approximately five fulms tall, donning something akin to a Thaumaturge's hat. [Yes he is walking while talking, yes he's talking incredibly fast, and yes he is describing this mysterious woman like it's a mcfreakin' police report.
No, he is not aware that he said several words that only he understands, he's a man on a mission here, Day!!]
no subject
but daylight thinks he gets the gist of it, after taking some time to mull over the words and try and put them into context. description of the person they're looking for: a 26-year-old woman with dark hair and possibly blue eyes, around five feet. maybe wearing a witch's hat? thaumaturge is related to magic, if he's recalling those datapads he snatched from emer's bookshelf correctly.
and oh- in the distance- ]
-I think I see her. Up ahead. House with the witch cutouts! [ and his jog turns into a sprint, upon seeing her handing out candy to a bunch of children. ] Hey! Hey!
no subject
dialup would have a field day with urianger in that case]That is her. [Target sighted. And sprinted after as well, trying to pass Daylight in an effort to catch up with her immediately. He'll not let her out of his sight again, he thought as he watched her about to give out more bags of treats to more children and calling out before she could.]
You there! [Thankfully, he did stop her. Without having to physically apprehend her, a fact she should thank whatever gods she prayed to for. It's with an eerily bright smile contrasting the nightfall a cheerful wave and a "Oh, Mr. Kesi again! Happy Halloween!" that she met the two of them with.
Something that Takame responded to with a deep scowl and a crossing of his arms. Missing scales or not, his glare and height alone would strike fear into most every day people's hearts. He always less the talker and more the "stand there and look intimidating" person in these situations, despite having some choice words he'd hold until Daylight shared any.]
no subject
What the fuck is wrong with you? You could have killed him!
[ he feels bad for seeing the look of scandalised shock on her face at him cursing her out like that. with how restrictive this town is, he isn't that surprised that a curse word can get someone to look so horrified.
but daylight wants to make his feelings known as he gestures to takame, pushing forward with his indignation: ] He got hurt by your candy! Your candy that had blades inside them. People could die because of this, you know, kids included.
[ there is no way she had no idea those candies are blades in them.
... and it seems to be the case. with how the woman's look of shock slowly morphs back into the strange, too-bright smile.
er. ]
no subject
Have you aught to say for yourself?
[Based on the once again unwavering smile and the rolling shrug of her shoulders, she had some words but not ones they'd approve of.
"They were made with love! My dear old granny had the best recipes for sweets and treats just for the Halloween season! My kids just love 'em, and I'm sure yours will to!"]
... So you said when first you approached me. [Said turning to Daylight again.] Word for word, in fact.
[This woman was either completely insane or one of the Strange Ones he's encountered. Eulmore-esque ones.]
no subject
daylight's scowl etches itself a little deeper on his face. once again, he wishes his em field was still around- he wouldn't be shy in lashing out the waves of anger-disapproval-disgust that he felt radiating from his barely-kept-in-check trembling.
without waiting for a response or bothering to give a response, daylight takes a step forward and shoves a hand into the candy bowl, pulling out a fistful from the bowl and shoving it towards the woman. ] -Then you shouldn't have any issue trying this yourself.
If it's so good, you'll be willing to try it, right?
blood cw
As for the woman, it's with a gleeful, "Well certainly!" as she cupped her hands to accept the assortment of treats Daylight shoved at her. Without even looking down, she took something random, a ball of caramel corn about three quarters the size of her fist, and took a nice hearty bite of it.
She chewed once, twice, nothing out of the ordinary. Third time she let out a somewhat exaggerated "Mmm-mm!" in appreciation of the taste, but that slight lip movement was enough to let droplets of red leak from her mouth. And the crunching coming from her sounded less like popcorn and more like a window was being shattered. Something that put Takame on alert.
In response, she turned towards the two with a cheerful smile... and pools of blood falling between the ridges in her teeth. A glance Takame gave to the half eaten popcorn ball in her hand showed a shard of broken glass with fractures in places where teeth would rightfully be.
"Delicious!" How proudly, nonchalantly the word was said while more blood gushed like a miniature waterfall from her mouth. But it wasn't the blood that made Takame's brow furrow. It was the lack of reaction.]
By the kami...
no subject
but this is happening instead.
this took a turn from the weird to the fucky, as a friend of his would say if she was in his position. another friend would have simply sworn and that's what daylight is opting to do, ] Fuck.
Are you okay?
[ the woman laughs, never taking her eyes off the pair as she continues to casually crunch down on the mess of blood and teeth in her mouth. never been better! this is deli-cious! don't you boys want some? there's enough for every-one!
she offers the fistful of candies in turn now, holding them up in her palm- the razor blades, the jagged glass pieces now visible the surfaces of some toffee and chocolate and popcorns. ]