wellcome | 4.0 Test Drive Meme

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4.0 Test Drive Meme

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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:

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:

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:

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It's been a long time since Flynn got to poke around any new place, and he's much more deliberate about it this time. Cecelia would be proud of him, he thinks, and it's a grounding sort of exercise anyway in an unfamiliar and chilly place to poke through the dark and crowded shelves, crammed with new things. He takes careful notes on each new object and makes himself move on with careful (military, even) efficiency, though he'd much rather linger over the tiny dragon figurines, perfectly-sculpted and glittering.

But no. He has a job to do and sense to make of this strange and crumbling town, now that he's sure Yuri is safe, and so he's going to move on and put it down and turn to the tiny swords at the same time as—

He looks up at the exclamation with a smile caught on his lips and his notebook (a little bloodstained, crumpled from his pocket, and printed with cowboys) held off-kilter in his hand. ]

Oh, how sweet. It's nice to see that if there are, they'll be well-armed. We'll simply have to hope they're the honorable kind.

[ It's... so cute and small....... he reaches to pick up one of his own, turning it over to glitter in the low light before looking back up with that smile still in place. ]

You must have recently arrived, right? Dumped into that maze?

[She turns her head to him, a bright smile in greeting at his reply.]

Honourable...? If they're knights, then surely they can't be dishonourable in the first place.

[She does not ponder whether or not mice can know honour (oh, she hopes they have some tiny shields, too, because she hasn't seen any of those...). No, instead, she tilts her head curiously. Is it so obvious that she's a recent arrival? (A...tourist, apparently?)]

I was, yes. How did you guess?

[ Flynn knows of one specific dishonorable knight—maybe himself, certainly, and the most important one of all—and his smile goes just a little tight, but he shoves past it, because that's not important. Not really. Knights are mostly honorable, or should strive to be, and that's what matters. ]

There aren't very many of us, and I was sure I would have recognized you if you'd been here before. So far we haven't encountered any knights, mouse or otherwise, but, [ he lifts the tiny sword again, letting it flash in the light ] a few months ago a good friend of mine spent a lot of time being four inches tall, so I suppose I'll take this for him, just in case. Have you been up to the hotel yet? Um, I mean, the manor. I suppose it's... different.

Four...inches?! That's...

[Any potential thoughts regarding knightly honour, mouse or otherwise, are immediately banished, because--that sounds both terrifying and...adorable, actually? She can just imagine someone so tiny, holding the equally tiny sword aloft against a threatening raven... Oh, but her imagination is getting away with her a little.]

Oh, um, the manor? Yes, I was there for a short while. But, uh...I seemed...to have a little difficulty navigating...

Oh!

[ What a relief, he thinks, and then feels guilty for the thought, because he really shouldn't be taking any kind of relief in anyone getting lost, but, well— ]

It wasn't just me, then. The hotel was never like that, but I spent nearly two hours this morning after breakfast trying to get back to my room. Something must be going on— please don't worry, it almost certainly isn't you. Perhaps we'd have better luck together?

Really? Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me!

[She's equally relieved, not to mention sheepish immediately after, because she is sorry for the two hours he spent lost. That must have been dreadful! His suggestion is an excellent one, though, and she holds out a hand to shake with a smile.]

Alright, then...if we're going to try it together, we should introduce ourselves. My name is Estellise, but please do call me Estelle.

[ She must be used to this by now, the widening of the eyes, the slight pause after she says her name. Flynn stares entirely without meaning to, his lips parted silently, that little sword still held delicately between his fingers like a silly jab at the real thing.

Estellise. Estelle, with lovely manners and a sweet face, Estelle, who Yuri talks about with such affection and longing.

Estelle, who he is staring at in a store.

Flynn shakes it off, embarrassed at his own lapse of manners. ]

My apologies. It's just, I've heard that name before. Estelle, I mean— from someone, um, very important to me. If you haven't met him yet—

[ Goddess above, Scifo, let's go in order here and not overwhelm the poor girl. He shakes his head at himself, his ears burning. ]

Let me start over. My name is Flynn Scifo, and it really is a pleasure to meet you and I'd love to try and find our way together, and also if you haven't met Yuri Lowell yet I really think we should find him first.

[She wonders if she'll truly get used to it, these reactions from people she doesn't recognize herself (and yet, there is something--or more like the vague hint of something--around him that she feels, too). Nevertheless, she gives him an understanding, if slightly embarrassed, smile.]

It's a pleasure to meet you, Flynn. Please don't worry; Yuri was actually the first person I met here. So...

[Certainly, she is curious about herself. But more than that...]

Yuri is someone very important to you, then?

Oh, um.

[ That's. Certainly a way to put it!! Yuri's sort of a private person and they haven't exactly talked about— and anyway he's sure that it's Yuri's place to tell Estelle that kind of thing, since they know each other much better—

His ears are scarlet. It's probably very obvious.

Flynn coughs and curls his fingers around the tiny sword. ]

Yes. He is. He's been helping me navigate this place since we woke up here. Or, well, what here was before it was here. Which... was different.

[ ...he's really nailing this. ]

[Oh, goodness. Those are some red ears, aren't they? Estelle's knowing smile grows, her eyes crinkling. This is just too cute... She's not a tease, however, and she doesn't actually want to embarrass him. Okay, maybe she gives a little unbidden giggle. But...]

Heehee... He was the first one to help me here, too. He seems like a good person.

He's a wonderful person.

[ Well now that is incredibly obvious, so he's really not doing great except that she doesn't seem to be offended, which, well: if she really is a princess, then of course she was probably taught things like How to Have Manners and Interact Politely, and also Flynn had sort of forgotten that part and has really not been acting the way he vaguely thinks a knight should around a princess, so.

After another solid moment of letting himself feel incredibly embarrassed about more or less all his conduct to date, Flynn straightens up, holds out an arm like a good knight should, and smiles. ]

And I'm sure he was very happy to see you. I certainly am. I've heard as much about you as Yuri remembers and it really is a pleasure to properly meet you after all that!

[He's a wonderful person. Such a simple statement that speaks volumes. Warmth blooms in Estelle's heart, and a little bit of envy, too. Does she have someone who believe in her so wholeheartedly? Or is there someone for whom she feels that way? She wishes she knew...

But Flynn holds out an arm, and while so much of her conduct and movements have felt as natural as breathing, she now has a small internal moment of panic as she tries to figure out what she should do with this--because it sure isn't coming to her! Oh dear, oh dear, and apparently Yuri's told him all about her, and she hardly knows about herself, and what if she does something wrong... But this can't be too difficult! Surely it's a just a normal, simple gesture, like...yes, how about-

She'll link her arm with Flynn's, then. That's probably correct, right? Especially if they're going to walk somewhere together...she hopes...]

Y...yes, it's, ah, a pleasure to meet you! I hope we'll be good friends from now on. Um, by the way...what has Yuri told you?

[ He has to play this carefully, Flynn thinks, because goddess knows he'd find it incredibly awkward to meet someone who knows more about him than he knows about himself, and anyway he can't really be sure that she's the same Estelle, although, really, she probably is—

either way, he reminds himself, he needs to be polite and not overwhelm her and not trigger any headaches, either. ]

I should warn you that trying to remember things can be a bit of a risk. Even being reminded of something that you've forgotten might, um. Hurt. A bit. So— if you're willing to risk that, I'll certainly tell you what Yuri's told me, but if you'd rather not... it can be strange when someone knows more about you than you do. Yuri remembers something I did at home that even I don't, and that's still strange.

[ It feels strangely natural to walk arm in arm this way, to lead Estelle around a crowded display and toward the dark little doorway to the rest of the town. ]

[Her initial nervousness quickly disappears, as she rests her opposite hand on Flynn's arm and finds that it feels...comfortable. She gives him a sheepish smile as they step outside.]

The headaches, yes? I did experience one earlier.. It's just...it's strange, not knowing who we are, isn't it? I can't help but want to try--to reach those memories, if they're there somewhere, even though... Yuri said it was best to wait for them to come to us.

[She looks up to the sky as if she'll find a memory there, floating like a cloud.]

...Although I suppose I'm a little nervous to know what they might be, too.

Generally speaking, it is best to wait. The pain isn't worth it, and they really won't come to you that way, no matter how hard you try.

[ Generally speaking, he says, like he hadn't thought himself into passing out every few days that first month here, like he hasn't been chasing after his memories with fingers outstretched.

His breath mists up into a tiny little personal cloud and drifts away into the damp stone. Everything is close-crowded and wrong. The sky is so much smaller. ]

It is strange, though. And hard to put into practice, because of course we want to know who we are! Is there anything in particular worrying you?

[As strange and worrying as it is, it's also a comfort to hear him agree. To know that, despite it all, at least the strangeness is something they share and understand. Of course they want to know who they are! Who wouldn't, with the fragments they've been given?

She's a little hesitant, but with this bond of understanding they already have...she glances to him as she takes in a little breath, then unleashes some of those worries.]

Well...aren't you afraid of remembering? Or worried about who you were, or what you might have done? I...I mean, for all you know, I could be--a serial arsonist, and neither of us would know!

N--not that I remember setting anything on fire, of course! But not remembering is the problem, once again...

Edited 2023-10-28 21:12 (UTC)

[ Flynn shouldn't laugh, really, because it isn't funny and because he has the exact same worries and his are borne out, but he snorts, ducking his head to hide the sound, and comes back up bright-eyed with a bitten-down sheepish smile. ]

Sorry, I'm sorry, it isn't— I just really can't picture you as a serial arsonist at all! It isn't funny, really, and I suppose it's possible, but... well, I wouldn't put any money on it, so I'm sure you can strike that specific worry from your list.

[She's not really offended or upset; her expression just takes on a slight pout, though. It's nice of him to say, and maybe it was a far-fetched example, but still--really!]

It's not that I was concerned about arson specifically... But--but I'm being serious.

[ Flynn's face softens, stung into submission by a flare of guilt. ]

No, of course— [ He squeezes her arm a little in proper apology. ] I didn't mean to make light, really. My apologies. Honestly, I worry about the same things. When you only have a few bits and pieces to go on, and when those bits and pieces paint a worrying picture, it's... hard. I've had months to get used to it, and even then every time I remember something, I start worrying all over again.

You too, Flynn?

[Her pout melts away immediately as understanding takes its place. Concern, too--how unnerving it must be, to have those worries come back in full force each time they manage to remember something...]

It almost sounds like remembering becomes more stressful than staying as we are...

[And yet...he agreed, too, that he couldn't help but want to know. If the opportunity to remember was in front of her, of course she would reach for it...she thinks.]

...it can be.

[ Honest, though he'd rather not be. If he could tell her not to worry, that it would probably be alright, he would, and it would be such a disservice that he can't even think of it, really.

She doesn't deserve to have to worry, all the same. Flynn sidesteps a loose cobblestone. Fog hurries away from his feet like a startled cat. It's starting to crowd thickly around them. Flynn squints into it, suddenly unsure of his direction. It has to be just up the street, doesn't it? The town slopes upward toward the manor, so ideally as long as they're climbing...

He hopes he's leading them correctly. ]

It would be nice to be given the option of remembering, so we could each decide whether it was worth it, but it happens without warning, and you can't pick what you remember.

[ He adds, more softly, after a beat and a muffled step, ]

When it happens to me, I forget myself here and now for a little while. Talking to the people here helps.

So we have no choice, either way...

[She appreciates his honesty, even if she would rather that they didn't have to worry in the first place.

Nevertheless, he comes back around to: it's good that they're not alone. At the moment, she can only imagine what it must be like to learn some new facet of themselves, to have to reorient their understanding of who they are.]

I wonder if I'll be the same way... But...I can't imagine having to go through this alone. It's a relief to have someone at your side... If I can ever help, promise you'll talk to me, too?

[She's vaguely aware of the fog settling in thick and fast--it would be impossible not to notice it at all, really--but most of her focus is on Flynn, on asking him that promise. She's not entirely sure why, like so much else that drives her actions here, but she's decided this is important to her.]

[ His ready agreement sticks hard in his throat.

It's too much, a little voice in him says. You can't ask that of someone, you should be able to handle it on your own, all the practice you've had.

A few months ago, he would have left it at that, but there's another voice now, smaller and softer but no less true.

It helps to help other people, it says, and it's true enough for him so what's stopping it being true for others? Fog eddies and swirls and then drifts away over damp cobblestones. Up ahead, there's a ringing voice; Flynn dismisses it for the moment, though it prickles at his head. ]

Only if you promise to do the same.

[ It's his compromise, tentatively-offered. ]

You won't ever have to go through it alone. All the knowledge we've picked up has to be useful for something!

[ The voice echoes again, a wordless shout, high and young-sounding. Flynn's head turns, just a bit. ]

[She sees how quickly he turns the subject of concern away from himself, and it speaks far more than he actually says. He must be the type to worry about others before he'll do the same for his own sake, if ever. And without realizing even the slightest shred of irony, she also thinks not of herself but instead of him when she readily promises-]

Yes...I will. If we face everything together, we'll be able to help each other.

...By the way... [It really is getting too hard to ignore now, just how thickly the fog has descended, blanketing everything in a chilly, dreamlike haze.] It sure is foggy, isn't it? I hope we don't lose our way.

[She thinks she sees a humanoid shape off to the side, wonders if her mind is playing tricks on her--she thinks she's heard of such tales when it comes to mist this heavy--but she also glances ahead at the sound of the voice.]

Did you hear something? [And then louder, because it does sound so, so young-] Um...hello? Is someone there? Are you lost?

I did—

[ Flynn starts, hushed, holding her arm a little closer— this seems like the sort of fog that might play tricks, and Flynn has certainly been led astray by voices here before— but before he can get the rest of the words out the small voice shouts, a yell that echoes damply through the mist and bounces off the walls. Flynn starts toward it without even thinking, half-tugging Estelle with him. ]

That sounds like a child!

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