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4.0 Test Drive Meme
4.0 Test Drive Meme
Premise & Arrival ֍ FAQ ֍ Apply ֍ Navigation
Welcome to Well! This cycle is a little different, if you've visited us before—this TDM takes place in Well's updated setting. See the first prompt for how your characters arrive in Well. Your character arrives with only a handful of memories, clad in a mix of Old Western clothes and clothes that might fit in at a renaissance fair, and no items from home.
Anyone is free to play on the TDM, but you need an invite to apply. Feel free to use these prompts, and interact with the arrival or locations. NPCs are around, but only say a certain set of phrases. TDMs can be considered game canon.
This TDM takes place from the first week of November onward, and can happen concurrently with other events during November and December. This will be the only TDM for November, December, and January.
Applications are open October 27th until November 1st, and November 27th until December 1st. Invites are available for friends of current players.
Into the Maze
Content warnings: deadly traps, aggressive foliage, vines, potential drowning, spikes
You wake up surrounded by green. Thick, dark hedges as tall as two adult humans stretch all around you. They're thick, nigh-impenetrable. You don’t quite know who you are, but you’re pretty sure that here, right here? Is not where you want to be.
You’re at a crossing: paths stretch out between the hedges on four sides of you. Which path do you take?
The sprawling hedge maze is vast and complex, especially if you’re not even sure where you should be going. Along your way, you hear giggling, shouts, excited screaming, low murmurs, and, sometimes, the sound of radio static. You might see the faint outline of someone slipping around a corner, and hear them giggling, a long, white dress or robe following them as they move. But you never find whoever, or whatever, is making these noises.
If you follow them, you instead come across:
Thankfully, at these obstacles, you might find another person, equally as lost as you. They may have been following the same person. Once you join forces with each other, the way out is easier to find. Not easy, but possible. If you continue to forge on on your own, the exit will never reveal itself to you.
When you do finally stumble out of the maze, you’re greeted with the site of Wellstone.
tl;dr:
You wake up surrounded by green. Thick, dark hedges as tall as two adult humans stretch all around you. They're thick, nigh-impenetrable. You don’t quite know who you are, but you’re pretty sure that here, right here? Is not where you want to be.
You’re at a crossing: paths stretch out between the hedges on four sides of you. Which path do you take?
The sprawling hedge maze is vast and complex, especially if you’re not even sure where you should be going. Along your way, you hear giggling, shouts, excited screaming, low murmurs, and, sometimes, the sound of radio static. You might see the faint outline of someone slipping around a corner, and hear them giggling, a long, white dress or robe following them as they move. But you never find whoever, or whatever, is making these noises.
If you follow them, you instead come across:
- Thorny vines laying on the ground, or hidden in the hedges, that slowly wrap themselves around your ankles or your wrists, pulling you back, trying to subsume you into the hedge.
- A dark pond stretching clear across the path, blocking your way. You can wade into it, but when you do those voices get louder, so much louder, screaming in your ears. The bottom drops away from your feet. Strange things brush your ankles, turning into hands pulling you down into the oily water. The more you panic, the more difficult it is to get to the other side. Staying calm keeps the water at about chest height.
- Pieces of the path fallen away, down into a pit full of spiny cacti. You might not want to test this one, and instead trust yourself to jump across. It’s just short enough a gap to be scalable by most, but it sure isn’t a comfortable distance to cross. If you do fall in, boy howdy do those things hurt. You’ll need some help getting out!
- The graveyard. There’s nothing getting in your way in the graveyard, but you may simply stumble upon it. The graves are overgrown and covered in moss. The ground is moist and springy. In the middle you may find an old mossy well filled with clear water.
Thankfully, at these obstacles, you might find another person, equally as lost as you. They may have been following the same person. Once you join forces with each other, the way out is easier to find. Not easy, but possible. If you continue to forge on on your own, the exit will never reveal itself to you.
When you do finally stumble out of the maze, you’re greeted with the site of Wellstone.
tl;dr:
- You wake up lost in a hedge maze! You hear strange voices around you, and a figure dressed in white runs away from you.
- You run into obstacles: spiky vines, a deadly pond, a pit full of cacti, or the graveyard. Work with another character (or not) to escape the maze!
Welcome home
Content warnings: disorientation, feelings of being lost
When you stumble your way into the run-down old town of Wellstone, the deadly peril of the maze seems to be over. It’s cold and damp, sure, but at least you’re not in danger, and you’re in luck: up a small hill beyond some gates, you can see an ornate house with golden windows, practically beaming warmth.
Staywell Manor is a grand place, with high ceilings and exposed, ornate beams, lush carpets and tapestries, beautifully upholstered furniture. A man dressed like a butler (the old hotel receptionist, for those who’ve met him) greets you with a bland smile:
“Welcome to Wellstone. We’re so glad you’re here with us! What’s the name on your reservation?”
You remember your name, and you give it to him, and he offers you a heavy brass key. No matter the number, your room does exist in the four-story manor, and is decked out with a four-poster bed, a nice settee, and a closet full of clothes that fit you like they were made for you. They’re a strange mixture, though, a mishmash of old American Western rhinestones and denim and medieval fabrics and silhouettes in bright colors. You might find a fringed tunic dyed bright red, or a pair of cowboy boots with the toes curled up like a jester’s slippers, bell-tipped and absurd. Are those pantaloons made of denim? Weird!
While the manor is lovely and inviting, and much warmer than the outdoors, it is also pretty big. Well, it must be, because you keep getting lost! It’s incredibly difficult to find your way to your room this month. You might find your way to the wrong floor, to the parlor, to someone else's room. Remember to knock!
tl;dr:
When you stumble your way into the run-down old town of Wellstone, the deadly peril of the maze seems to be over. It’s cold and damp, sure, but at least you’re not in danger, and you’re in luck: up a small hill beyond some gates, you can see an ornate house with golden windows, practically beaming warmth.
Staywell Manor is a grand place, with high ceilings and exposed, ornate beams, lush carpets and tapestries, beautifully upholstered furniture. A man dressed like a butler (the old hotel receptionist, for those who’ve met him) greets you with a bland smile:
“Welcome to Wellstone. We’re so glad you’re here with us! What’s the name on your reservation?”
You remember your name, and you give it to him, and he offers you a heavy brass key. No matter the number, your room does exist in the four-story manor, and is decked out with a four-poster bed, a nice settee, and a closet full of clothes that fit you like they were made for you. They’re a strange mixture, though, a mishmash of old American Western rhinestones and denim and medieval fabrics and silhouettes in bright colors. You might find a fringed tunic dyed bright red, or a pair of cowboy boots with the toes curled up like a jester’s slippers, bell-tipped and absurd. Are those pantaloons made of denim? Weird!
While the manor is lovely and inviting, and much warmer than the outdoors, it is also pretty big. Well, it must be, because you keep getting lost! It’s incredibly difficult to find your way to your room this month. You might find your way to the wrong floor, to the parlor, to someone else's room. Remember to knock!
tl;dr:
- You're in the town of Wellstone, where it's cold, damp, and rainy.
- Staywell Manor is warm and inviting, but hard to navigate, and you're prone to getting lost in its halls.
Warm Your Bones
Content warnings: alcohol, intoxication, accidental consumption of blood, hallucinations of demons and shadow people
The town of Wellstone has clearly seen better days and warmer seasons. Cobblestoned streets trace their way between crumbling buildings overgrown with moss and ivy. The early-fall nip in the air is enough to make your breath fog up in front of your face. Clouds hang low and sulky over the down, spitting out little bursts of rain here and there. Wind whistles between the close-crowded buildings, blowing a few leaves and the odd tumbleweed along the damp stone.
With the heavy chill in the air and fog drifting the streets at night, thick and cold enough to creep into even the warmest clothes, it’s tempting just to stay indoors.
Luckily for everyone tired of the damp, the golden light spilling from the Cactus Pad Pub beckons. Just walking inside hits you with a blast of warmth. A fire blazes at full strength in the hearth, snapping and crackling, but more than that, every single table is set resplendently with mismatched fancy china: cups, saucers, creamers, little pots of sugar, and of course, tea, steaming and hot.
It’ll be hard to resist the urge to sit down at one of these little tables, and the moment you do, you’re stuck there for at least an hour. Truly: your butt is glued to that chair. At least there's tea, and there are cards on the table with conversation starters on them. But these conversation starters are a little, ah... odd? Comment below to get a conversation starter for you and your tablemate!
May as well have some tea while you’re here, and hope that it is in fact tea. You have a one-in-three shot. The steaming liquid in that pot might be:
Each of these effects lasts from half an hour to an hour, and longer if you drink more of whatever is in your respective pot. Once you're free from the table, if you sit down at another one, you'll be trapped there, too.
Feel free to ask the mods to roll for you to decide which teapot your character gets, and for a conversation starter, just for you!
tl;dr:
The town of Wellstone has clearly seen better days and warmer seasons. Cobblestoned streets trace their way between crumbling buildings overgrown with moss and ivy. The early-fall nip in the air is enough to make your breath fog up in front of your face. Clouds hang low and sulky over the down, spitting out little bursts of rain here and there. Wind whistles between the close-crowded buildings, blowing a few leaves and the odd tumbleweed along the damp stone.
With the heavy chill in the air and fog drifting the streets at night, thick and cold enough to creep into even the warmest clothes, it’s tempting just to stay indoors.
Luckily for everyone tired of the damp, the golden light spilling from the Cactus Pad Pub beckons. Just walking inside hits you with a blast of warmth. A fire blazes at full strength in the hearth, snapping and crackling, but more than that, every single table is set resplendently with mismatched fancy china: cups, saucers, creamers, little pots of sugar, and of course, tea, steaming and hot.
It’ll be hard to resist the urge to sit down at one of these little tables, and the moment you do, you’re stuck there for at least an hour. Truly: your butt is glued to that chair. At least there's tea, and there are cards on the table with conversation starters on them. But these conversation starters are a little, ah... odd? Comment below to get a conversation starter for you and your tablemate!
May as well have some tea while you’re here, and hope that it is in fact tea. You have a one-in-three shot. The steaming liquid in that pot might be:
- Piping hot black tea, caffeinated and bracing. Drinking it makes you energetic and exciteable and very eager to talk to your neighbors. It also makes you feel extremely fancy! Put that pinky up and use the biggest words you know to impress everyone around you.
- Dark mulled wine, spiced with ginger and cloves. Drinking it fills you with unbridled confidence bordering on arrogance. You'll feel lordly in whatever way makes sense: condescending and snotty, benevolent and patrician, whatever you might be prone to.
- Something… else. It’s dark, hot, and sweet, but there’s an odd metallic tang that sits strangely on your tongue. Whatever it is, it’s addictive. The more you drink, the stranger the world around you becomes: you’ll see faces in the shadows and glowing red in the eyes of your companions. Shadowy figures seem to haunt the walls of the pub, moving toward you. You’re filled with fear and paranoia but rooted to the spot.
Each of these effects lasts from half an hour to an hour, and longer if you drink more of whatever is in your respective pot. Once you're free from the table, if you sit down at another one, you'll be trapped there, too.
Feel free to ask the mods to roll for you to decide which teapot your character gets, and for a conversation starter, just for you!
tl;dr:
- There's a fancy tea party happening in the Cactus Pad Pub. It's sort of mandatory.
- Sitting at a table traps you at the tea party for an hour, and you'll be drinking one of three random drinks, each with different effects.
- There are conversation starters on the tables to help you get to know your fellow tea partiers!
- Tea makes you social and fancy, mulled wine makes you lordly and a bit drunk, and the last hot, sweet liquid tastes weird and makes you see demons.
- Ask the mods to roll a random teapot type for you if you'd like!
no subject
looks aside, that sense of (false) optimism is chased by a distinct unease that is not improved by having words injected into his mind. gaius knows it's false because none of this is good, actually! if ever there was a time to be shitty and pessimistic, it would be right now.
he also has an awful craving for a smoke but doesn't even remember being a smoker, so that probably isn't helping.
it's particularly alarming because something about "hearing" those words in his mind feels familiar, but he can't put his finger on how or why. it's certainly not whatever sort of creature this is, that's for sure. ]
You're one to talk. If that is, in fact, what you're doing.
[ what else could it be? he doesn't know! something weird an alien would do! ]
no subject
<Ah. You're a mouth-speaker. Well, I suppose no one can help how they're made.>
[Aliens, Alloran considers, are weird. This one's just Andalite enough to be a bit disquieting with the patterns of bare skin and fur, that bizarre nose, and the balancing pole-like on two legs. He also decides he's not the biggest fan of sound-speech, you've kind of got to dedicate attention to processing the sound in a different way than with handsign or thought-speech. Oh well.
There's at least as much "deer" in Alloran as there is "human". Mobile ears, huge main eyes, some of that same alert lightness.]
<I don't suppose you're a local? Or do we both find ourselves in the position of being, hm, strangers to this place?>
no subject
[ it's true, that's exactly what he is, but somehow putting a name to it makes it worse. ]
And I believe "human being" is what you're looking for.
[ always ready to correct everyone on the proper form of address because gaius favours the little details but is quick to soften them with a nervous smile. it's definitely a suggestion because he's really in no position to make demands of anyone right now. ]
I am not a local, no, which would have been my next question. I suppose that means you've no idea how to get out of here either, right?
no subject
[hmm he has the odd feeling that he should know more about humans than he does. Aliens, or humans specifically? Gaius is distinctly weird looking but Alloran doesn't dwell on it like he might if he wasn't used to weird aliens. Can't think too much about that, though. If he lets pain show in his eyes or mindsong it will be noticeable and he has to keep this front of strength and confidence. Don't let his side down, etc.]
<No, and if it's a pocket universe it may have been made such that there isn't a way out. Let's proceed as though there is, though.>
[He looks around - mostly using those stalk eyes, his neck isn't very flexible - and tries extending his tail, experimentally cutting a few branches in the hedge with the blade. It's curved, a foot or so long, and dark and gleaming.]
<Probably not worth trying to cut right through... Have you wandered long? What's your name, human?>
no subject
[ there is something about aliens plural that sticks out because there is no question that this is his first proper alien, given his struggle with how uncanny this all is. gaius is a sceptic, so the shift to make room for a new definition of possibility manages to be a fairly significant one; not only is it possible, it's happening in addition to everything else that's gone weird lately.
easily distracted, he can't help but stare. he had been unsure what exactly that tail might be capable of, but cutting hadn't occurred to him, which certainly intrigues his scientific curiosity to a distracting degree. ]
What?
[ right, there was a question in there, wasn't there? mental note: circle back to pocket universe at some point, too. ]
I'm Gaius Baltar. It feels like I've been here for a while, but who says time works as expected?
[ at least he knows who he his. ]
no subject
That big tail is the one aspect of Alloran that couldn't be described with words like 'slight' and 'dainty'. It's probably at least ten feet long and moves fluidly and with some speed. He mostly keeps it curved in a vaguely scorpion arc.]
<Alloran-Semitur-Corrass. You're permitted to call me 'Alloran', Gaius Baltar. Shall we walk together a while? If nothing else, I don't have to trot into where you started and likewise for you.>
no subject
[ he supposes all those names mean something, but gaius is relieved it's something he can pronounce. it's reasonable to assume people without tongues might get a little creative with their language. ]
You know, I'll be honest, that's probably a good idea. Sticking together, I mean. If I was going to put my money on either of us finding a way out of here, let's just say I wouldn't be my first choice. I'm an intelligent gambler.