soddersays | APRIL 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

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APRIL 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to April’s Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: SPRING HORROR.

All Test Drive Memes contain at least one clue to the Deerington's upcoming in-game events for the month! Keep your eyes peeled! But...not literally.

Characters may die during TDMs, but you do not need to count it towards a game-canonical death unless you want to. Consider it a freebie. All TDMs can be considered game canon as TDMs introduce minor aspects about the world of Deerington that can be revisited by characters later on in the game. You may also use TDMs for your application writing sample as well as AC.

CW: Violent urges, violent furries, hallucinations, paranoia.

Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

SPRING TIME'S FAVORITE TROPE

Despite the slightest of chills still lingering in the air, Deerington's spring seems to pop up all at once. It'd be easy to assume every flower and every tree has gone into bloom overnight! Along with all the beautiful foliage, there's another wonderful thing about all the new flowers; pollen. And it's everywhere.

The pollen settles on top of every car, every road, sticks to every screen; a thin layer of yellow that gets in your eyes and fills your lungs. Hopefully you're not allergic. No matter what, there will be one interesting side effect you may end up exposing yourself to. Those who spend too much time outside may find they suddenly have the urge to cuddle, to be close to another person, and to maybe even fall in love, even if you normally wouldn't be interested in any of it. It may be with a complete stranger or it may be with someone who you've known a long time. Regardless, whoever is on your mind will end up becoming like your new obsession.

If the person is also interested in you, you're in luck! Get in your snuggle sessions (or more, you crazy animal). If they don't return your feelings, though... You'll find yourself not handling the rejection very well. The obsessive thoughts will come even worse, turning troublesome quickly, and you'll find your head filed with violent urges. You can take them out on the person who rejected you or on a complete stranger, or you can do your best to fight them off entirely.

All the urges, positive and negative, will go away once you get covered in water, either through a shower or jumping in the lake.

GAZING AT THE PURPLES AND PINKS

The only place that doesn't seem to be covered in pollen for whatever reason is the Spring Festival at the Staggering Heights Theme Park. The usual $20 entrance fee is waived for the day and everyone is encouraged to come have fun on the rides, listen to live music, and grab a partner to dance if you feel like it! Special foods on top of the usual carnival fair can be found around the park; lavender and maple ice cream, maple cotton candy, lavender sorbet, and maple candies.

At first, it will seem like none of these foods have any ill effects. After about half an hour, however, anyone who had any of these special desserts will start to see and hear things. It will start off mild - you may think you hear someone walking behind you or you'll be sure you saw someone from home out of the corner of your eye. As time goes on, they'll become more heavily intense. You'll become actively convinced someone is out to get you, even turning on friends who you are sure are part of some elaborate plan to bring you some sort of harm. You'll begin to see enemies from home - or friends who are now acting like enemies, even if you've never done them any harm. You'll feel more on edge, ready to defend yourself at any cost, and it will be particularly hard to calm you down when you're not trusting anyone to get near you. Effects from the desserts will disappear after three to four hours - or if you get a slice of freshly baked bread from one of the vendors.

The usual 9 PM closing time seems to have been extended until midnight, but people may still find that the familiar creepy elements start to sneak their way in even with the park open. The rabbit mascots are still following you with their eyes, and the closer it gets to midnight, the more obvious it gets. By the time it hits 11 PM, the rabbits will actually pull themselves up from their seated positions and start to follow you around the park. Some of them have weapons in their hands - golf clubs, steal pipes, and knives seem to be a favorite. If you get out of the park, they won't follow beyond the edges. If you try to stand your ground, however, they will attack. If you knock off the head, the mascot will crumple to the ground; and you'll find out that they're still completely empty.

Character Arrival

You can read how all characters arrive in Deerington here.

There is not a collective "all these characters showed up at the exact same moment" occurrence in Deerington. Since characters fall asleep, die, or pass out at various times throughout all their worlds, it wouldn't make too much sense if they arrived in game all at the exact same time. There should be some discrepancy between character arrival, whether by a couple minutes, hours, or even days up to a week.

The players are entirely in control of how/when they want to play their characters arriving in Deerington. For TDMs, you can play it like your character has just arrived and that can be maintained as your game canon, or you can wait until game events for that moment. Or you don't need to acknowledge it at all. The flexibility for character allows a bit more of an organic feel to the character arrival situation, so please play it to whatever feels right for you.

If you are interested in having an "arrival" introduction for one of your TDM prompts, you are more than welcome to explore that option.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

{ATTACK OF THE SNIFFLES ● POLLEN}

[Keaton coughs.

It's one thing, in his opinion, to wake up in a radically different place than where you had tucked yourself up for a night's rest. Not that this has happened to him often, or it isn't some murky combination of stressful, frustrating, and disorienting enough to make his fur stand on end, but he's a smart(-ish) wolf. Even as a child, Keaton was strong and resourceful enough to escape similar kidnappings from pelt poachers. Waking in a strange bedroom in a stranger place is survivable, navigable. Not enough to cause a panic, even if he is more than a little unnerved.

Keaton coughs. Again.

But the pollen? Enough to make existence unbearable. Caught in the thick strands of fur covering his ears and tail, it's proven impossible to remove with a perfunctory grooming. This means a bath in Keaton's near future, something he dreads nearly as much as poachers stealing him away in the night.

He coughs for the third time in as many minutes. As he turns to you to complain, loudly, you may notice how the flush in his cheeks matches the redness of his teary eyes. He shakes off a fine layer of pollen, so sorry if most of it lands on you.]

This is the worst. The absolute worst. Springtime in the mountains was never like this. It's like I'm being assaulted with dust -- and not the dirty, gritty kind that's fun to roll around in, either. This is an all-out attack on our noses!

Edited (Noticing a typo an hour later is the WORRRSSSTTT.) 2019-03-31 08:45 (UTC)

| AROUND TOWN |

[Ever since her arrival here a few days ago, Abigail is struggling with the fact that she’s nowhere near home. Then again, she hasn’t been home in a few months. That on edge feeling was not new for her either, but this place definitely made her feel that even more so. Even still, it seems as though no one here knows who she is. Which is refreshing. Here, Abigail is just another person. A young adult even. Free from the constant scrutiny, and hatred by strangers. She could be whoever she wanted.

It was freeing.

She checks out the local businesses and eats at the local diner, and at the suggestion of a someone sitting nearby, goes with breakfast. After which, Abigail ends up at the lake and begins to skip rocks. It does seem odd to her though, that the rocks barely make a ripple in the water.]

| SPRING MADNESS (Pollen) |

[It was the middle of winter before Abigail arrived here, so the change in weather is not unwelcomed. The blooming trees and flowers were beautiful and Abigail took her time in examining flowers she’s never seen before. It seems as though she’s not the only one enraptured by the beauty of nature, and so she tries to make conversation.]

They’re called butterfly weed. They used to grow in my mom’s garden.

[Unable to keep the sudden wave of sadness off of her face and her gaze falls back to the butterfly weeds.]

| I WANT OFF THIS RIDE (TW: Mentions of murder and gore) |

[It’s been literal years since Abigail last went to an amusement park, so when she became aware that the local theme park was waiving its entrance fee, Abigail decided to check it out. And while she’s not ready to get on any rides just yet, she does try some of the food this place has to offer and also plays some of the games. For a while, she’s distracted from her thoughts of home, but soon enough they come creeping back to the surface. Even worse than before, and the paranoia she’s felt ever since what she did to Nick Boyle is all she can think about now.

Suddenly she feels as though there are people staring at her, in fact, she manages to make eye contact with someone just before they turn to whisper something in their friend's ear. Heart racing in her chest as the panic rises, Abigail quickly looks for the bathroom. Once inside, Abigail can feel her breathing quicken and she grips the sides of the sink tightly. Hearing someone opening the door, Abigail looks at them in the mirror and sees them look at her. Unable to handle their staring, she quickly goes into the farthest stall and locks it behind her. She stays in there for a while, unwilling to leave in fear of having to face all of these people again.

They know. They know who she is. They know what she did. It’s been over an hour before she finally unlocks the stall door and comes back outside, her face red from crying. She goes over to the sink and splashes her face with the cold water. She’s about to turn off the tap when she looks up and sees him. Her blood runs cold and all of the color drains from her face. Nick Boyle, is standing by the door, blocking her exit. His face is discolored and there’s dried blood smeared along the edges of his lips. Shutting her eyes, Abigail starts whispering to herself that this isn’t real. But when she opens her eyes again he’s standing right in front of her, holding the knife that she had used on him. Back pressed against the sink, Abigail only breaks eye contact when the door opens again. She looks at the stranger with wide, pleading eyes. Except, they can’t see what she’s seeing.]

| WILD CARD |

[Totally game for doing something else!]

Edited 2019-03-31 07:33 (UTC)

arrival.

[ It's late in the evening, officially after sunset, and a young man is seated as motionless as a marble statue on the steps of a previously unoccupied Blackwood Run townhouse. His long legs are crossed in front of him at the ankle. His eyes are obscured behind violet sunglasses, but he's obviously intent on studying the contents of a basket — the basket, it seems. He's deeply focused on the letter, brow furrowed as though he's hoping to see something more than just words upon the paper.

(Lestat had taken an exploratory sip of the blood in the jar before hiding that well away from prying eyes. It hadn't tasted strange at all, no trace of anything but ordinary blood, and that in itself was disquieting. He couldn't have said exactly why.)

If he notices a passerby at this late hour, he'll glance up and wave them over with a disarming smile. And he does seem harmless, even inviting, despite the unnatural stillness he'd shown just a moment ago. Despite the stark white of his skin under the streetlights. His long hair is tied back with a silk ribbon, and an emerald and a cameo ring sit on two of his long fingers, but otherwise his outfit — a t-shirt, a denim jacket, dark jeans — is casually modern. Perhaps cut to suit 1980s sensibilities, but well-tailored.

He indicates the letter with a nod. To hell with subterfuge. ]

Listen — yes, you, hello there, join me if you'd like — do you know anything about this? [ Conversational, exasperated, subtle French accent. ] I swear the more I read it the less sense it makes.

fleur de let's.

[ One of the grand conveniences of not needing to breathe is not having to concern himself with trivial matters like tonight's monstrously elevated pollen count. At least, that's how Lestat assumes it works. He never had to deal with springtime allergies when he was mortal, either. Some people are just eternally lucky. But if you look like you're having trouble with the springtime allergies, he just might offer you the silk handkerchief from the pocket of his leather jacket. (At least for now, it's entirely free of blood.) ]

And I was getting so homesick for my tropical flowers. Be careful what you wish for, I think they say. [ He gazes quite intently, quite sympathetically, and his eyes are very bright over the rims of his sunglasses. ] Are you all right?

( ooc: or feel free to randomize a different nighttime encounter! lestat is nosy and loves to explore; pm me if you'd like to discuss anything. info & permissions are available. )

► SPRING TIME

( god, did it never end? how many times would flowers try to do something? the last petals had come through the tear and had tried to take over earth. it was ridiculous but with their rate of multiplying it would have happened within hours.

now there was pollen. pollen. it seemed to cover everything and even though it didn't yet look to be moving quill didn't trust it. she hadn't touched it, not stupid enough to risk that, but she also knew it would only be a matter of time before something happened.

it will just end up not being the something that she expects )

► PURPLES AND PINKS

( quill was always on edge. it was a consequence of her life, of battles in war, of what had come after. whilst the desserts looked ridiculous even she needed to eat something, trying the one that looked the least inoffensive.

it was edible. that was about all that quill could say about it but she had limited experience with human foods.

she doesn't recognise the paranoia at first, feeling just a growing tension within her that she attributes just to being in this stupid place. but that feeling starts to grow, a stronger concern and alertness than what even she normally feels. it has her looking to try and see if there's anything (or anyone) around her that would be causing it.

it's out of the corner of her eye that she thinks she sees it, just a flicker in the shadows, movement. the shadow moving. it makes her stop, staring at it to see if she can see anything more before looking at the next shadow, then the next. how many times? how many worlds? )

[ When Gwen had first decided to take home the baby land shark, she hadn't fully considered the true responsibilities of a pet owner. But, she loved Jeff, and so she did what she had to to take care of him. Including walkies every morning, afternoon, and night. She doesn't keep him on a leash, because as long as he's entertained he's well enough behaved, and he listens to her when she orders him to back off-- most of the time, anyway.

So there she is, out walking her tiny pet shark with four legs, when she's waved over by a creepily pale dude sitting on his stoop with the welcome basket.

Eh. Might as well. ]

Hey. You must be new.

SPRING FLING
[ If luck was ever on Felicia’s side, it wasn’t now. Out of all the weird dimensional bullshit, she lands up in this steaming pile. The deer was weird, the house was weird, the waking up with a whole mess of questions and no one to answer them? Doubly weird.

The world was already proving to be a headache - black leather and pollen were a deadly combination this time of the year. Add that to the dash of confusion that rushes through her at processing everything? No bueno. Her first instinct was to call people - her mom and ... well, a certain someone who always seemed to get stuck in these situations too. Guy messes with web, so obviously situations get sticky.

But, alas, that luck? Totally gone. Phone is useless, but at least it’s on her. That’s good. Her hand keeps firm over her mouth as she moves, sticking out like a sore thumb in her totally misinterpreted BDSM lite gear.

Maybe you’re lucky and you cross a black cat’s path around town... Let’s hope the pollen doesn’t kill her out of embarrassment. ]

PURPLES AND PINKS
[ A few more answers and a lot more questions, Felicia is left seeking refugee in this weird ass festival grounds. This isn’t Coney Island by any means and she has no urge to even enjoy herself. ]

You’ve seen Killer Klowns from Outer Space right? Hell, even Big has that whole cautionary tale with the damn robot fortune teller on the pier.

[ Standing right at the entrance, she’s already embarrassed herself enough but... whoever she’s met in the sort time here? Her skepticism is dripping. ]

ooc
[ so I did this top level on a phone because I’m that thirsty and can’t wait to get home from vacation. Please forgive any typos...

I’m a ok doing fighting prompts for spring fling and assumed cr for purples and pinks to help move the thread along.

Feel free to PM me or wildcard me! ]

Edited 2019-03-31 14:15 (UTC)

spring time's favorite trope

[ springtime. it's a welcome sight; back home, before she "fell asleep" (heavy dose of skepticism there), winter was beginning to settle into the city. she doesn't mind the cold, it doesn't affect her anyway, but she's missed the colors of growing plant life. maybe she even appreciates it more because of that.

caitlin's taken some time to get her head together before leaving her new home. if this is a dream, if she is really stuck here, the logical thought would be to explore the town and get a better sense of her surroundings. there's even a small hope that she'll find a familiar face; she immediately feels guilty for wanting that.

once she's outside, it's hard to miss the pollen coating everything. it's on her doorknob as she locks her door, on the mailbox she peeks into. on the gate she steps through to reach the sidewalk. the yellow powder has stuck to her hands, like she's been eating some weird yellow, floral-scented, cheetos.

as she wipes her hands on her pants (for lack of a better option right now), she notices she's caught the attention of someone passing by. she offers a smile. ] This stuff really does stick to everything, doesn't it?

gazing at the purples and pinks ( one )

[ he's here. cicada is here in this so-called dream world. at first, he was just a flash of motion in the corner of her eye. she could have just passed it off as other visitors moving around here—it does seem like most of the town is here right now.

but he isn't that subtle. then she sees the glow of his dagger, the jagged shard of metal flickering and pulsing. she hears the rasp of his breathing through the mask, that cricket-like sound that gives him his name.

caitlin has to do something. he's only ever attacked metas and humans who stood in his way, but there's no telling what he might do here. no telling if any of the people around her are metas, too, and vulnerable to attack.

she grabs the arm of the nearest person to get their attention. ] We need to get these people out of here, clear the park. It's not safe, no one is safe.

gazing at the purples and pinks ( two )

[ enough is enough. caitlin's already had plenty of scares tonight, her mind tricked into seeing ghosts from her past and present. her body has been flooded with adrenaline, so when the rabbit mascots pry themselves up from their perches, she is 100% fed up.

her consciousness shifts, and anyone around her will witness a visible transformation. her hair turns from brown to grey in a wave of color that rolls down from roots to tips. her lips become a metallic shade of purple-blue, shining darkly in the park's nighttime lighting. when she opens her eyes, the brown has been replaced with a white-blue that glows with a light of its own.

and it suddenly becomes very chilly around her.

she stalks forward, spotting a rabbit with a knife following a young girl. ] Hey, Thumper! Why don't you pick on someone your own size?

wildcard

[ choose your own adventure! feel free to hit me up on plurk at lovedbythesun to plot or discuss. ]

Edited 2019-03-31 16:14 (UTC)

[ Given that the last time she was at a carnival, it was all a ruse by Madam Masque and her team of supervillains to try to capture and kill the West Coast Avengers, Gwen should probably be more wary of carnivals. But she's in a dream, right? Madam Masque isn't here. No supervillains in Creepsville, ME.

She's enjoying some maple cotton candy when a frantic woman comes up to her, jabbering something about needing to clear the park. ]

Whoa— whoa... Hold on. Slow down. What's happening, why is it not safe?

[ She drops the cotton candy, swinging around her backpack and unzipping it, reaching inside for her gun. She doesn't pull it out just yet, but her hand wraps around the grip. ]

I believe you, but I need you to tell me what's going on.

[It was only about a month since Gansey woke up in Deerington, and the arrival of spring, after he'd also come from winter in Virginia, is glorious. He's out enjoying a walk in the warm(er) air when he sees an unfamiliar girl about his age looking at the bright flowers, and he can't help but slow down and take a look as well.]

They're lovely. People don't give wildflowers enough credit. [There's an old-money tidewater Virginia accent more common in people his grandfather's age that tinges his voice, and his pink polo shirt, khaki chinos, and obnoxiously red topsiders combine to give the overall impression of a rich southern frat boy. But there's genuine concern in his eyes and voice when he notices the sadness in Abigal's face.]

Are you all right?

POST-ARRIVAL

1. Ronan hasn't been in town long, and that means he's on edge, ready to fight. Well, Ronan is always ready to fight pretty much anyone and anything at the slightest provocation, or just because he feels like swinging his fists. Still.

His BMW is parked, badly, conspicuously, outside the Dearly Diner. Ronan himself stands out because he's Ronan: tall, sharp-edged, tank top revealing the curling edges of the tattoo on his back. He's an angry teenager, sure, which may not seem like much to some people, but something about him sets off waves of danger. Ronan is a war waiting to happen, even sitting idly in a booth with a plate of eggs in front of him.

Still, he's not on a warpath on purpose, at the moment. Chainsaw, the raven he pulled out of his dreams and into reality, who apparently followed him into this dream, sits on the table, croaking at people who walk by. Every now and then, he feeds her a piece of fruit. That doesn't seem to stop her from trying to solicit others for food, though. She's much more outgoing than Ronan is, it seems.

He doesn't apologise for her forwardness, but he keeps an eye on her. The booth across the table from him is empty.

2. Another time, the BMW is outside the Arcade. Its always conspicuous owner is inside, angrily trying to beat Pac-Man. Chainsaw, of course, is with him. She's not at all helpful, occasionally trying to peck a button from where she seems precariously perched on the edge of the machine.

"Piece of shit game," Ronan mutters, and feeds another quarter into it. The machine, perhaps as touchy as the boy trying to play it, doesn't recognise the quarter. He rolls his eyes and feeds it another one. It doesn't recognise that one, either. On the third try, it jams up. He kicks it once, then kicks it again harder. A creative string of expletives follows the second kick. Chainsaw croaks along, happy to encourage Ronan's tirade.

He stomps up to the counter to get his damn quarters back, Chainsaw in tow. He stares down at his what the clerk gives him, then angrily looks back up. "These are teeth," he says, not with surprise, but annoyance. He looks vaguely like he might launch over the counter, but is it worth it for three quarters? Hard to tell with Ronan.

3. Ronan, along with all his weird Catholic guilt, finds himself drawn to the church, though it isn't Sunday. He's annoyed at the state of it, because it seems somehow disrespectful that the only house of God he's found is in such disrepair. He's self-aware enough to recognise the irony in that thought process, because Ronan is one of the least respectful people alive. Whatever.

It's quiet, though, and he thinks of St. Agnes's back home. That just gets him more annoyed, because he'd rather be there with Adam than here with no one. Though it's probably better Adam isn't here. He folds himself into a pew for a minute, not for any real reason in particular. Chainsaw, who seems to be more clingy than usual, climbs down his arm onto the seat next to him and pecks at a centipede.

Ronan rescues her and stands up in one fluid motion. "Gross. Don't eat that," he admonishes her. His voice echoes a little, and both boy and raven look up at the sound.

PURPLES AND PINKS

1. During the day, Ronan can be found, somewhat surprisingly not tailed by Chainsaw, just around the park. He stops at a food booth, because that's what you do at bullshit amusement parks, is spend too much on food (though of course money doesn't matter to Ronan even in the slightest). He decides on maple candies, which he eats pretty much right away.

After a couple rides, though, he feels a bit out of place. Something's going on, he can feel it. Ronan isn't exactly attuned to danger, because he's just dangerous himself, and likes causing danger, causing trouble. But he's pretty sure he's being followed, and that just pisses him off, like most things.

Finally, he spins on his heel and stares at whoever is unlucky enough to be there behind him.

"What the fuck do you want?" he demands, and he looks like a storm cloud, ready to burst open at the seams and unleash fury and havoc at any moment.

[ feel free to find him before he's paranoid! ]

2. Ronan sticks around past dark. The effects of the candies are long gone by then, but for some reason, he didn't just get bored and drive home. The paranoia from earlier might be gone, but he's sure those creepy ass rabbits are watching him. It's not that late when he wrests a golf club from one of their grips (a really obvious thing to be doing, but no one stops him, even if it's possible someone notices). He carries it around with him for awhile.

Not too much later, he's actually confronted by one of the creepy rabbits holding a knife. There's a standoff. He stands there, golf club resting on his shoulder, grinning menacingly, almost manically.

"Come on, motherfucker," he taunts.

[ OR feel free to write your character in trouble. Ronan isn't nice but he LOVES FIGHTING THINGS so he will absolutely beat the shit out of a rabbit and save another character. ]

WILDCARD

[ pick your poison! find Ronan and Chainsaw pretty much wherever, usually having driven there loudly and quickly. hit me up on plurk

boywonder if you need. ALSO assumed CR is fine for amusement park threads! ]

Edited 2019-03-31 17:00 (UTC)

[Spring Time]

[Izuku is no stranger to pollen. It's cherry blossom season back home in Japan, so he'd certainly expect the streets to be covered in petals and allergies to be at an all time high. Though he's personally never had too much of an issue with the pollen...this is utterly ridiculous. Even with a sick mask over his mouth and nose, Izuku is still sneezing on his way to and from school, or the FEAR Headquarters. You might even come across him having stopped completely in the street just to sneeze uncontrollably for a while before he continues on.

He just got over being sick, too...]

(NOTE: By default, Izuku won't be feeling terribly strong affects of the pollen since he's trying to avoid being outside much/wearing a sick mask. If you'd like him to be affectionate to the max, though, let me know in your tag! Otherwise any and all cuddling urges towards Izuku are certainly welcome.)

[Purples and Pinks | CW: Violence against mascot bunnies, among other things]

[It's weird- in a Deerington sort of weird- that the theme park is spared of pollen when literally nowhere else is, which means that something is different about it this month. What that difference is remains to be seen, but since Izuku hasn't actually visited it yet he decides to check it out one afternoon just to get out of the apartment somewhere he's safe from the pollen. As tempting as it is to buy fair food though, he decides to stick to granola and things he brought from home. Food around here seems to be very hit and miss, and he's not willing to risk it when he's already feeling bad again.

Truth be told though, it's a lot more enjoyable than he was expecting it to be, and he ends up staying out late because of it. He never intended to stay this long, but before he knows it the sun has gone down and the park is getting a little less inviting with the shadows the lights cast.

Except...that shadow isn't from one of the rides or attractions, and as Izuku furrows his brow and looks closer, he realizes that it's a figure taller than him with long rabbit ears.

And it's standing right behind him.]

What...?

[He turns around just in time to see one of the mascots from earlier in the day staring him down, as if trying to dare him to run with its eyes. And when he doesn't, Izuku's heart leaps into his throat as he jerks to the side just a hair before the mascot buries a knife into the wooden food stall just shy of Izuku's head, its own head swiveling to look at Izuku again with a blank, soulless stare as it wrenches the knife free with little effort. Izuku's regular morning training has kept him fit and alert even after the virus struck him down, however, so he's able to dodge the second swing of the knife as he pivots on one foot, swinging his right leg up in the same movement to kick the mascot directly in the head.

Green sparks fly off the impact as the mascot's head pops clean off, the rest of the body immediately folding and crumpling to the ground, leaving Izuku bewildered and panting with his bag about to fall from his shoulders.

There's no time to rest. More are coming.]

Gansey goes to the Spring Festival at the amusement park, because of course he does, he loves local flavor. And Staggering Heights isn't far from his townhouse, anyway. It had been... all right. A bit lonely. He'd sampled the sweets like other people had, and had the resulting increasing paranoia and anxiety. It was late by the time he took shelter at another booth selling food and accepted the fresh-baked bread being pressed upon him. That... helped.

Now it's even later, and while the edge of paranoia has faded, he can't shake the feeling that the creepy rabbits are watching him. Wait, did that one move? Shit. He's deep in the park and trying to make his way as quickly as he can towards the entrance, keeping as wide of berth as possible from the menacing bunnies.

Until, at a distance, he spots a familiar shaved head, an unmistakable tattoo. His heart leaps into his throat, and he does a double-take, expecting it to be a trick of his mind. Then he hears the other man's voice, sees him with the baseball bat facing the armed rabbit approaching.

"Ronan!" Gansey yells, rushing towards him, not even really registering that he's distracting his friend from an oncoming threat.

Sebastian would be laughing his ass off if he could see Fenris now, squinting at the run-down chantry from the side of Neibolt street. The amount of times the gang would have been roped into helping this place get rebuilt... The warrior doesn't want to think about it. He is content to use the place as it is. In fact, it's better for him this way. If he doesn't go on a Sunday, there is a slim chance of running into someone.

Slim, but there is still a chance apparently. He opens the door, and his eyes immediately spot Ronan--edged and lithe, like a freshly sharpened arrow. He doesn't recognize him, but the lighting in here is nonexistent. What little they get comes from the sad excuses for windows and the outright holes in the walls and ceiling where sunlight streams in.

Seeing the man, he's tempted to turn right back around and leave. But there is less pressure here. This man is a stranger, with likely no tie to Thedas. Who cares if he knows that Fenris sometimes prays?

So he walks in, donned in his full set of armor but lacking his sword. He intends to stride right up to the front and get on with it, but on the way there, he steps on one of the giant centipedes with his bare foot. His reaction is a startled jump to the left and then a sneer. "Venhedis, this place is infested."

Ronan would know Gansey's voice anywhere, in silence, in a crowd, at the end of the world, in a dream...or, apparently, in some hellish dreamscape in Maine where amusement park bunnies are trying to hurt people.

He turns immediately, eyes and expression sharp as glass, and just as likely to get under someone's skin. Gansey looks like Gansey, in his dumb boat shoes and Virginia rich boy attire, and Ronan is glad to see him, but he'd never say that or let it show.

"Stay behind me," he tells Gansey, leaving no time or space for whatever he might have said if they'd just met on a normal street, then turns back to the advancing mascot, taking the club off his shoulder and bouncing on his hand like a stereotypical gangster would with a crowbar or pipe. Ronan isn't a stereotypical anything, though, and he's just as menacing as the rabbit, if decidedly less absurd.

[ Luck has never been on his side, and under these specific circumstances? It's definitely not on hers either, because he's the one who ends up crossing her path. Sure, he would be one of the people she'd count on and maybe call for assistance - and he'd be happy to be on that list. But given the huge amount of history between the two of them, being under the effect of special pollen might end up being no different than a curse.

Peter's not suffering the effects of it just yet, however, so when he sees her? All he can think of is not her too. Peter hasn't had any terrible experience just yet, but he's heard stories, and people he loves and care for are just about the very bottom of the list of those he'd wish this place on. Then again, just like Gwen when she saw him, he can't help feeling a little bit happy to see a familiar face. ]

Cat—? Wow. I think you're going to have to rethink your costume with all this pollen around.

[ It's tentative, but he walks towards her immediately - kind of checking her out, making sure she's all right. ]

[ He doesn't sleep, so he's busying himself acquainting himself with the town. He's out and about when someone calls out to him. His angelic senses immediately hone in on the caller, and Castiel moves in their direction with ease and when he reaches him, he's shown a similar letter he himself received on his arrival. ]

It's a letter of warning from someone who seems to have wanted to help the people in the same unfortunate situation as them.

I received a similar letter.

Gansey obeys, skidding to a halt a yard or so behind Ronan. He knows he's not a fighter, and his best friend certainly is. He wouldn't want to be in front of that golf club, at least.

"So I'm really not sure what's going on, or how much of this is even real, but if I'm hallucinating these rabbits, I'm certainly glad I'm hallucinating you too," he says, unable to keep his mouth shut even at a time like this.

The bunny doesn't seem too inclined to just stop and let them talk, though. It steadily makes its way towards them, knife clenched in its paw.

"We could try just... running?" Gansey suggests. It worked for him so far, but he's not actually hopeful Ronan will take the advice.

[ She didn't have much of a secret identity, but the mask was a bit like a security blanket. She's able to forget problems, stop herself from slowing down and processing things. Which, is bad because she needs to. The pollen was poorly filtered from her mouth and nose, even with her best efforts to keep her hand cupped securely over.

It figures that he was the first person she runs into that isn't a damn weird mind-trip deer. A voice calls out and she's left looking around through the pockets of clouded pollen that filter through the air, caught on an old wind. ]

Pete? [ That was the first thing that comes to her mind. Not Spider, but the man behind the mask. It was, after all, through some extensive growth that she defaults to that name instead. His approach was slow, hers quicker and more confident of a powerwalk. ] Costume can wait. What the hell is going on and please tell me you have allergy medication before I start sneezing my brains out. Pretty sure this isn't the timeshare I put my travel points into — too cold.

[ She can deflect with humor too!? ]

A. Arrival

[Peculiar dreams aren't new to Hawke. The Fade is a strange place, and its denizens stranger still. Getting dragged through a forest and then staring down a deer isn't the weirdest dream she's ever had. Even the sensations she felt, while worrying, don't quite get the klaxons going off in her head. Not until she wakes up.

Immediately she sits up, eyes wide as she takes in the room around her. This is decidedly not where she went to sleep. Clearly she's been kidnapped, but why leave her in her armor? Stranger yet, why leave her staff within easy reach? It's propped up against the wall next to her bed, which she quickly grabs as she gets up. She keeps it at the ready as she makes her way towards the front door, eyes peeled for any sign of her kidnapper. But there's no sign of anyone, and she wonders if something happened to said kidnapper between when she was taken and when she woke up, because surely they wouldn't just let her walk out the door-

Of course, then she does walk out the door and realizes why they're letting her waltz about.]

...I...

["1950's suburban Maine town baffles woman from medieval fantasy world" would be the description attached to the photo of Relm's very shocked and incredibly confused expression as she looks at her surroundings. It's all just completely new to her and she has no idea what to make of any of it.

She takes a few tentative steps outside, sticking out like a sore thumb in suburbia. All she can do, she thinks, is start walking and hope someone can tell her where she is. So walk she does, down the sidewalk towards what looks like a busier part of town. The locals certainly stare a bit, but they seem more occupied with whatever errands they're running. There's something off-putting about them, enough that Relm hesitates in asking them. Which leaves her looking like a deer in headlights in the middle of town, lost, confused, and really hoping that she somehow got drugged and things will return to normal soon.]

B. Pollen

[And as if getting dumped in a foreign town with no discernible way home wasn't bad enough, it's spring and that means pollen and that means Relm gets to sneeze up a storm.

As she sniffles, she steps off the sidewalk to dust off the layer of pollen that's fallen on her. Right now she wishes she could find a good lake to dive into and wash the pollen off but for the time being, she'll have to wipe it off.

It's then that she realizes she's standing near someone, and that she probably just nailed them with all the pollen she's been brushing off.]

Ah, sorry. Just wanted to spread the pollen-y [Hold that thought, she has to sneeze yet again.] joy around. I've lived out in the countryside and I've never seen pollen this bad. This is absurd.

C. Theme Park (11 PM)

[The good news is, Relm didn't eat any of the proferred sweets and got to bypass that madness. The bad news is, she didn't get the memo about the creepy bunnies.

She's been stalked and hunted by all number of things, much bigger and much worse than sentient stuffed bunnies with weapons. Yet they're somehow creepier, and coming from someone who's been attacked by giant spiders that's saying something. Relm tries to ignore the bunny that's stalking her, making quick strides towards the park exit. It's just a walking stuffed animal. It'll eventually leave her alone, right?

...what if it doesn't?]

I can't believe I'm actually going to try and talk to this thing, but... [She turns suddenly on her heel, staring down the approaching bunny.] You're getting one warning: turn and go back to your creepy little friends, or you're not going to be stalking anyone for much longer.

[The bunny responds by raising its weapon and walking faster towards her. Hawke rolls her eyes and stretches out her hands, letting loose a stream of lightning that makes quick work of her pursuer.

Whether you saw that bright flash of light and wondered what the heck it was, or if you just happen to be walking by when the encounter ends, Hawke will be found staring at the lifeless bunny, moving the suit around with her foot and trying to understand just what exactly was after her.]

Uh, who hasn't? [ Wade's not really sure if the chick is talking to him, at the moment he wasn't even looking at her, so when he turns to do so, he freezes. Well, it's official he's gonna have to change Spidey's name on his phone from Babe Alert, because hello, nurse.

He lets out a mock gasp, hands going up to his masked face. ] What in the ass?! This won't do, one of us is going to have to change. And by one of us I mean you. I have the leather thing on lock for today.

[ The jury's out on whether she's a superhero, villain or anti-hero, but when has that ever stopped Wade from chatting at someone. ] But feel free to check back next week, I might get really into sequins. [ The scariest thing so far is that is a possibility, he was raiding a Betty's closet just a couple weeks ago. ] I've always wanted to feel like I was in the Great Gatsby.

lavender paranoia
[The ice cream was floral and herbal and not too sweet, and the lag time between consumption of the specialty dessert and the growing sense of paranoia means that Love doesn't immediately identify the possible correlation. It's clear something is wrong, because this level of heightened alertness is extremely out of character for him, but he doesn't have sufficient data points to come to a conclusion as to the source.

He's being followed, he thinks, being stalked by someone who wants him dead. At one point he thinks he sees Kieshi's tall, blue-skinned figure step back just out of view, at another he thinks he catches the loam-and-sea-spray scent of Isaku's SPH. They aren't here, of course, and Love knows it, but he's also entirely aware that his whole nervous system has been temporarily (hopefully temporary) hijacked by some kind of externally-generated paranoia.

He's spent centuries one step ahead of everyone who wants to get their hands on him. He's too old for this feeling, too old to be considering improvised weapons and potential exit points and who in the crowd wants him dead or worse. But here he is, tucking plastic knives from food stalls into his pockets, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up to hide his face.]

run, rabbit
[The paranoia has passed by now, just in time for something to actually happen.

Love might not be a fighter, but he can dodge like nobody's business if he needs to, and so that's what he does. It's not exactly effective, but he doesn't get stabbed.]

Oh good. [The scrawny, blue-haired teenager says to an armed stranger nearby.] Would you mind knocking this things' head off?

[Look, he's a non-combatant nerd, and you're clearly the sort of person who's armed and dangerous.]

the pollen option
[Sex pollen is a sci-fi trope for a reason. While it isn't an issue on Earth, Love has absolutely researched some weird plant-based reproductive habits on a variety of planets, and so it isn't completely a surprise that there are some mood alterations going along with the bloom.

He doesn't have any pheromone-blockers here, or the tech to make any, so he just improvises a mask out of a bandanna and gauze bandages to try and block the worst of the pollen, and goes outside anyway. What kind of scientist would he be if he didn't get out there and do some research?]

Just keep behaving normally. [Says the middle schooler following you around.] Ignore me.

[[ooc: or wildcard! contact me at

Hydok with questions or ideas!]

[ With the influx of oldies and a few newbies filtering to this so-called safe haven? She ... may not have been talking to him. If she saw the duality of red and black, there would have certainly been a different conversation to be had instead of 80's movies.

The attention hangs in the air and Felicia has a sinking knot in her chest. Oh. Great. She knows this guy. Knows of him. ]

Right. Of couuuuurse.

[ She got the gist, sure - Deerington, big ole focus on deer... but she feels a recurring trend here. When Deadpool is involved, it's hard not to call bullshit. ]

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up on the rambling nonsensical commentary. You'd think I'd be good at keeping up, but - [ He was worse than Peter? :/ ] We'll catfight afterwards.

But...

[ Her words grew a bit more stern. ]

Deadpool. What the hell are you - we - doing here?

[ Badum dummmmm. ]

arrival.

( 'Hey uh, look, I'm not tryna point fingers here, or— erm, feathers— but uh—

'I don't know if you noticed, that this place...doesn't exactly look like...'

'The Qliphoth. I know.'

'Or the Underworld. Are you...sure you went through the right door back there?'

well, that is some small comfort. they share the same memory, the Underworld, recovering the familiars from stasis. V stares ahead, gazing from under the ridge of his brow, thinking. retracing the steps. Griffon sits on the Blessings Basket, dark and leathery with ashy bone. the large bird sits perched on the antler handle, watching V...and even for an avian demon, one can likely pin the look of concern somewhere between its illuminated eyes, and its strangely quadri-sectioned beak.

V doesn't say anything for a time. he sits here on the steps of Deerington Hall, jar in one hand, opened. within, a modest selection of dark berries and nuts: blueberries, cranberries, almonds, walnuts. he's taken two fistfuls, since reading the letter, and has idled since.

Griffon, upon the basket, twitches its head sideways, curiously. 'You, uh...you gonna eat the rest of that? I'm just. Y'know. Just curious.'

they have to get back, to Dante and Nero at the demon tree, but...how?

the jar clinks calmly onto the smooth step. as Griffon jumps to the ground, beak nuzzling gluttonously into the open mouth of the jar, V goes to stand. he feels substantial, at least — his body is solid, far from slowly piecing apart as it had before — but he still leans more of his weight into his cane as he takes his steps out. tired. so very tired.

his steps scrape the brushing of dirt against the concrete as he saunters out, eyes scanning the square. someone must have answers. at a distance, V catches sight of a figure, and gazes meet.

but before V can make the choice to approach a stranger on the street, Griffon has its own plans. jar left spilling on its side, the night-painted bird swoops up just short of the unknown resident. flapping wings, a gust of wind, all precedes the bird's squawking voice: ) 'Whew! Hey! Pardon me, do you have a moment to speak about our lord and savior—'

( another squawk, and the bird is reigned in roughly by the handle of V's cane, carrying a look of both impatience, and mirthful apology. Griffon thinks it's funny. it's not. ) I apologize.

( a smile, almost wry, eyes narrow and sidelong as he pulls the bird in under his arm, who fights him petulantly. ) Griffon is terrible at first impressions.

Could you...tell a wayward stranger anything about this place?

flower power.

( V is caught by the sound of coughing. squinting through the saffron haze of this midday, he veers off of a nonchalant trek to the library, as the quiet of the town is freckled in this soft noise. his feet are dusted in the pollen as he steps over, catching sight of someone struggling — covered in the stuff.

'Come hither.' V reaches his hand out, and as the inky markings on his arm dissipate, the bird manifests before him. the yellowy powder clings to his bare arms, and he tries to brush it off of himself, though it only seems to smear it against his skin. he only has the vague instinct to suspect it — he's seen malice and violence come out of the simplest things in the Underworld — but there has been no obvious threat, just yet.

once they're closer, V's attention keen on the stranger, Griffon snaps its wings down in a couple of hard clips; a few hard gusts breeze against them, V caught in the breath himself, and it manages to sweep some of the ominous dust away. not completely. ) Are you all right?

carnival, after dark.

( he's being followed. he can sense it, now. V stops and turns to look over his shoulder, slowly, to catch sight of the moment that movement pauses lifelessly.

under the carnival lights of yellow and orange and green, two stained, rabbit-headed mascots have paused in their steps. it doesn't save them from suspect, and it doesn't seem to be the intent, either, as they have since stepped out into the open now. less a measure of stealth. moreso...something playful.

V isn't alone, clearly, and even then he doesn't realize that there is anyone else left here at the carnival beyond himself and these two ominous fiends. one brandishes a golf club, the other a steel pipe, bent a few degrees in the middle.

but they don't advance. is it a security, or is it a window of time, rapidly closing?

V hums shortly to himself. he plants his feet and lifts his cane, tossing it up to grasp the end before pointing it handle-first at the ominous pair. ) Isn't it a little past your bedtime?

( the shapes in his skin down the full length of his arm shift, spilling down his hand like ink before culminating in a dark shroud at the end of his cane. suddenly, something dark bursts forth — forming swiftly into a panther on the ground. it lets out a low rumble, teeth bared, eyes alight before its fur flashes in dim purple designs, similar to the ones that only just left V's own skin a moment ago. the cane whips around, spun by the handle. he smiles calmly, and wide. ) All right, then. Step right up. I have a new game for you to play.

( ooc; will likely be spoiler free. pm for questions or any convo! )

[Newt keeps a loose schedule of some kind in Deerington. He walks Helga and goes to work and basically gets through the day caring for his own creatures, the animals at the clinic, and researching at F.E.A.R.

It so happens that he's currently walking Helga when Griffon swoops down and starts talking to him. Peculiar!

He gives the stranger a lopsided grin. Helga stares at V and Griffon with curious eyes as she sits at Newt's feet.] Oh, it's really no trouble. You could say I'm a bit charmed by him even. He seems a bit of a character. [Hopefully, Griffon doesn't have much of an ego. The last thing V probably needs is for his avian friend to become more insufferable.]

Anything that wasn't included in the letter? [Whoo, boy.] Though, I don't know much of what can be said about this place. I think a lot of us are still trying to figure things out about it. It presents itself as some form of dreamscape, although most people would agree it's more like a nightmare than anything else.

There's quite a bit off with this town, so I'm sorry you've found yourself here.

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APRIL 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

APRIL 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

SPRING TIME'S FAVORITE TROPE

GAZING AT THE PURPLES AND PINKS

Character Arrival

QUESTIONS

Fire Emblem: Fates | Keaton

Abigail Hobbs | NBC Hannibal

lestat de lioncourt. the vampire chronicles.

miss quill ( class )

arrival.

Felicia Hardy ( marvel 616 )

caitlin snow | dctv (the flash)

pink is Gwen's color (one)

SPRING MADNESS

Ronan Lynch | The Raven Cycle

Midoriya Izuku | BNHA

Purples and Pinks - 2

Post-Arrival 3

no subject

SPRING FLING

no subject

no subject

opens arms. time for the drama.

Relm Hawke | Dragon Age

purples and pinks

Dr Love | ēlDLIVE

no subject

v ( devil may cry )

Arrival