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1.0 Test Drive Meme
1.0 Test Drive Meme
Premise & Arrival ֍ FAQ ֍ Apply ֍ Navigation
Welcome to Well! Characters arrive the same way every month. Your character arrives with only a handful of memories, clad in old west style clothes of your choosing, with 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.
Applications open on January 20th, and the game opens on February 1st. Invites are available for members of the mods' plurk lists.
Put on your dancing shoes
Content warning: Alcohol, intoxication, altered mental state
Something’s happening at the Cactus Pad Saloon. It’s lit up bright against the growing night, and music spills out onto the street. Seems like a fun time that you should check out. In fact, it’s hard not to check it out: the closer you get, the stronger the urge to join the fun. If you’ve been spending a lot of time alone, you’ll feel even more compelled to come get a drink.
The bartender serves up anything you can think of: from whiskey to apple juice to blood, if that’s your preference. She doesn’t blink an eye, no matter what’s ordered. The funny thing is, no matter what you order, once you take a sip, the world feels a little easier to deal with, your worries seem to melt away. You’re flush with sudden confidence.
If you strike up a conversation with the person next to you, conversation flows like you’re talking to an old friend. You feel a sense of kinship, deep and meaningful, good or bad, that bonds you together.
The old record player is playing a fun ditty, and the longer you stick around, the more you’re tempted to join, or start, the dancing. Whether you’re a great dancer or you have two left feet, you find that you feel capable of dancing like no one’s watching. No one knows you here, after all. You barely know yourself, so why not draw a partner into the fray? A party’s better together!
If you end up staying there til closing time, the bartender kicks you out with a gruff “come back tomorrow,” leaving you to stumble home with your new best friend. What was their name again?
Something’s happening at the Cactus Pad Saloon. It’s lit up bright against the growing night, and music spills out onto the street. Seems like a fun time that you should check out. In fact, it’s hard not to check it out: the closer you get, the stronger the urge to join the fun. If you’ve been spending a lot of time alone, you’ll feel even more compelled to come get a drink.
The bartender serves up anything you can think of: from whiskey to apple juice to blood, if that’s your preference. She doesn’t blink an eye, no matter what’s ordered. The funny thing is, no matter what you order, once you take a sip, the world feels a little easier to deal with, your worries seem to melt away. You’re flush with sudden confidence.
If you strike up a conversation with the person next to you, conversation flows like you’re talking to an old friend. You feel a sense of kinship, deep and meaningful, good or bad, that bonds you together.
The old record player is playing a fun ditty, and the longer you stick around, the more you’re tempted to join, or start, the dancing. Whether you’re a great dancer or you have two left feet, you find that you feel capable of dancing like no one’s watching. No one knows you here, after all. You barely know yourself, so why not draw a partner into the fray? A party’s better together!
If you end up staying there til closing time, the bartender kicks you out with a gruff “come back tomorrow,” leaving you to stumble home with your new best friend. What was their name again?
Sand trap
Content warning: Quick sand, potential drowning in sand
You step through a door into a room you didn’t mean to enter. You were trying to head into the saloon, or your hotel room, or the bathroom, and instead you’re here: in a small, tight, windowless room in a white-washed building. The air here is old, stale, and thick. Hazy gold light bounces off the walls, but you can’t tell where it’s coming from, since there’s no visible ceiling. The walls just stretch up and up into bright nothingness.
Someone else is there, too, coming through an identical door on the opposite wall. Both doors snap shut, and won’t open again, no matter how hard you try. They won’t even break.
This might not be so bad, except that a sound starts to fill the space: sand, trickling down the walls. It’s just a dusting to start. It comes sprinkling down above, seeping through the cracks in the door. The longer you stand there, the faster it comes: sand flows down the walls in massive torrents, building up on the floor, shifting and thick, trapping you in place.
The only way out is up. When you look again at the walls, you’ll notice it: about 10 feet up the wall hangs a flimsy rope ladder, half-hidden by the waterfall of sand. You’ll have to work together to even reach it, or maybe let the ever-growing pile of shifting, slippery sand lift you up? Be careful, because even if you manage to reach the rope, you both have to get out of here, and the longer you’re here, the faster and harder the sand falls. The ladder seems to go on forever, tens of feet up an endless wall. The better you work together, the closer the top seems. No matter how well you collaborate, they're at least 50 feet high.
When you’ve fought your way through the sand and reached the top of the ladder, you finally see it: the sand is coming in through the open windows of a steeple. You can’t see where it’s from, not really. You can’t see much of anything, but it’s clear: the only way out is, well, out. You have to jump, trusting that yourself and your companion will be safe.
Once free, you land together outside of one of the buildings or rooms you were trying to enter, like nothing happened at all. It’s a calm day, after all.
You step through a door into a room you didn’t mean to enter. You were trying to head into the saloon, or your hotel room, or the bathroom, and instead you’re here: in a small, tight, windowless room in a white-washed building. The air here is old, stale, and thick. Hazy gold light bounces off the walls, but you can’t tell where it’s coming from, since there’s no visible ceiling. The walls just stretch up and up into bright nothingness.
Someone else is there, too, coming through an identical door on the opposite wall. Both doors snap shut, and won’t open again, no matter how hard you try. They won’t even break.
This might not be so bad, except that a sound starts to fill the space: sand, trickling down the walls. It’s just a dusting to start. It comes sprinkling down above, seeping through the cracks in the door. The longer you stand there, the faster it comes: sand flows down the walls in massive torrents, building up on the floor, shifting and thick, trapping you in place.
The only way out is up. When you look again at the walls, you’ll notice it: about 10 feet up the wall hangs a flimsy rope ladder, half-hidden by the waterfall of sand. You’ll have to work together to even reach it, or maybe let the ever-growing pile of shifting, slippery sand lift you up? Be careful, because even if you manage to reach the rope, you both have to get out of here, and the longer you’re here, the faster and harder the sand falls. The ladder seems to go on forever, tens of feet up an endless wall. The better you work together, the closer the top seems. No matter how well you collaborate, they're at least 50 feet high.
When you’ve fought your way through the sand and reached the top of the ladder, you finally see it: the sand is coming in through the open windows of a steeple. You can’t see where it’s from, not really. You can’t see much of anything, but it’s clear: the only way out is, well, out. You have to jump, trusting that yourself and your companion will be safe.
Once free, you land together outside of one of the buildings or rooms you were trying to enter, like nothing happened at all. It’s a calm day, after all.
Memories of the living
Content warning: Cemetery, contemplating mortality
Dusk settles purple over Wellstone. Early stars are out, the moon is thin, and you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the graveyard. You can resist, but the more days you do, the harder it gets. The graveyard is calling to you in a voice you can’t hear.
While it seems small before you enter, once you start walking through the crumbling graves, it seems to stretch endlessly. You pass elaborate dust-covered crypts carved with strange angels; bleached wooden crosses overgrown with cacti; a crumbling old well, long gone dry; worn-down headstones jut at odd angles. Some graves have old offerings on them, brightly colored beads or candles or framed photos, sun-bleached beyond recognition.
You may have been walking for five minutes or fifty, but when you look around, you can’t see to find the exit. You hear howling, and see the flicker of lights from behind the graves, but you can never find their source, no matter how much you look. No matter how long you spend in the graveyard, the sun never seems to sink lower in the sky. An oppressive sense of being watched grows to the point that you whip around, expecting to find someone there until—
You do. You find each other. Others drawn here to the graveyard, walking among the crumbling stones, will end up by the same headstones. Exploring together eases the watchful feeling just a little, but it won’t help you get out. No, you’re looking for something. The exit? No, you’re sure there’s something more important than that.
If you follow your impulses, you may just find it: a gravestone, weathered, old, with a familiar name on it: yours. Your date of birth can be visible, but the date of death is too weathered to read. You may find an offering there, something small and meaningful to you, a small shiny coin or some bright beads.
Once you find your grave, when you look up, you’ll see the exit. You’re really not that far from it, after all, the rusted iron arch barely a stone's throw feet away. Your companion won’t see it yet. You can make a dash for it, get out of this awful place, or help your companion find their own gravestone. When your companion finds their stone, they will also be able to see the exit. Exiting together will alleviate the impulse to come back to this place. Leaving alone will only draw you back, making it more difficult to find your grave again.
You can take the offerings left on your grave if you want, but the sense of being watched will only grow greater until you’re compelled to return them, and leave another offering of your own.
Dusk settles purple over Wellstone. Early stars are out, the moon is thin, and you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the graveyard. You can resist, but the more days you do, the harder it gets. The graveyard is calling to you in a voice you can’t hear.
While it seems small before you enter, once you start walking through the crumbling graves, it seems to stretch endlessly. You pass elaborate dust-covered crypts carved with strange angels; bleached wooden crosses overgrown with cacti; a crumbling old well, long gone dry; worn-down headstones jut at odd angles. Some graves have old offerings on them, brightly colored beads or candles or framed photos, sun-bleached beyond recognition.
You may have been walking for five minutes or fifty, but when you look around, you can’t see to find the exit. You hear howling, and see the flicker of lights from behind the graves, but you can never find their source, no matter how much you look. No matter how long you spend in the graveyard, the sun never seems to sink lower in the sky. An oppressive sense of being watched grows to the point that you whip around, expecting to find someone there until—
You do. You find each other. Others drawn here to the graveyard, walking among the crumbling stones, will end up by the same headstones. Exploring together eases the watchful feeling just a little, but it won’t help you get out. No, you’re looking for something. The exit? No, you’re sure there’s something more important than that.
If you follow your impulses, you may just find it: a gravestone, weathered, old, with a familiar name on it: yours. Your date of birth can be visible, but the date of death is too weathered to read. You may find an offering there, something small and meaningful to you, a small shiny coin or some bright beads.
Once you find your grave, when you look up, you’ll see the exit. You’re really not that far from it, after all, the rusted iron arch barely a stone's throw feet away. Your companion won’t see it yet. You can make a dash for it, get out of this awful place, or help your companion find their own gravestone. When your companion finds their stone, they will also be able to see the exit. Exiting together will alleviate the impulse to come back to this place. Leaving alone will only draw you back, making it more difficult to find your grave again.
You can take the offerings left on your grave if you want, but the sense of being watched will only grow greater until you’re compelled to return them, and leave another offering of your own.
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His hand is small in Min-Gi's, and it's hard to think about what he was saying and not like, how soft his shirt is. He closes any gap there was, fingers splayed now that he has the chance to touch.
What was he saying again? How is he supposed to focus on anything with Min-Gi looking right into his eyes and the world gently tilting?]
Shhhh. There's no should. You don't know what you're like, and...and I don't know what you're like or what I'm like...but that's okay! It's okay, 'cause it's a space up there, and you can put...anything in that space. Not circus stuff or wild turkeys. You can beeee...whoever! You can be whoever you want. ...With me.
[He gently tip-taps his fingers against Min-Gi's chest, as if that emphasizes his point in any meaningful way.]
You don't have to try, 'cause you are! You're fun. This is fun and so good. You're...you're really good, Min-Gi.
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Luckily he has another hand right there he can tangle his up in, but it takes him a minute or so to realise this. Once he does he's happier. It feels like they're connected, and he likes the way Ryan taps his fingers to emphasise his points. It makes his words feel even more inspirational than they did already.]
You're really good.
[Which sounds almost like an accusation, the way he says it. That's not really what he was going for, but it's hard to get his words out the way he wants to.]
I'd like that. I do want to be. With you. I think that'd make me more fun. I could take you back to the hotel, and we could kiss? Do you want me to kiss you? It'll be nice.
[Even to his own mind that sounds a lot less coherent than he'd wanted. And maybe creepier actually. He makes a dissatisfied little noise, squeezing Ryan's hand in his own as though that might somehow convey his thoughts better than he can.]
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That does sound like an accusation, but Ryan just snickers.]
No, you're really good!
[Min-Gi is so good, and he says so many nice things all the time, and he thinks Ryan's hot and funny and all of these things he doesn't remember being really. The problem with having both his hands held though is that he no longer has a hand holding him up against the bar, which makes balancing a little trickier.
But that's okay. He can use it as an excuse to keep holding Min's hands, and close the gap between them. He even rocks up on his tip toes, bringing their faces even closer.]
I want that. I want that so much. I wanna kiss you so much that I could...we could kiss right now? Why wait for the hotel~?
[Almost as if on cue, the bartender looks up (entirely unimpressed by these drunk lovebirds about to make out so close to closing time) and says one of her stock lines - "It's getting late. Watch out on your way back to the hotel."
In her defense, things do seem to have cleared out a bit. How long were they chatting and drinking anyway?]
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While he's distracted, Ryan gets in even closer. He almost forgets how to breathe with this little space between them. He's sure Ryan must be able to hear the way his heart's pounding in his chest.]
I--
[He barely even has a chance to start to reply before the bartender's kicking them out. It seems specifically targeted to them, which doesn't seem fair. He's a little hurt by it, but then can he really blame her if she doesn't want to watch two drunk guys making out right in front of her bar?
Min-Gi's very red as he nods to her, almost seeming to have lost the power of speech so he can loose one of Ryan's hands to make heading outside easier.]
L-let's go back. She's right.
[How late is it, actually? He spares a quick glance down at his wrist to check, and... Wow. Yeah. He bets the rest of the stragglers will be getting similar treatment soon.]
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The part that's new is leaving with someone he fully intends to kiss, and that has his heart fluttering. He pouts at suddenly having one hand free, and responds by letting go of Min-Gi's other hand in favor of clinging to his arm for balance instead.]
Yeah...guess it's closing time. Buuuuut we can keep the party going ourselves. With hotel kisses. Or just-outside-the-saloon kisses. Or anywhere kisses.
[Any kisses are good really. Something about that reminds him he should actually check in though. Min-Gi seemed new to all this when they met, so. Just to make sure.]
Byyyyy the way, you holding up okay? Like, with the tequila and whiskey and...and the more whiskey? Feeling good?
[He is feeling so good, but Min-Gi needs to feel good too.]
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Now he can at least slowly lead them out. They aren't making progress fast, but there is still progress. He tilts his head to look down at him with a puzzled expression as they near the door.]
Huh? I'm so good.
[He wobbles a little as he leans on the saloon doors to swing them open, but it's fine. He's fine. Totally good over here.]
Aren't you feeling good? I could... [What could he do? He stands blocking the saloon door as he tries to figure out how to make Ryan feel better, seemingly oblivious he's in the way of anyone else who might need to leave.] Water? I think you should have water. I can get it at the hotel.
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No, I'm soooooo good! I just-- I wanted to check, 'cause you're new and I'm less new! But dude, everything is so good right now...
[Punctuated by him clinging even more to Min-Gi's arm and nuzzling his face against his shoulder. He's totally good. This is how a totally good person looks.
They're in the doorway though and other people are trying to leave, so Ryan helps move them forward, resulting in them stumbling out into the cold night air. The hotel is close - literally within view - but it might as well be a million miles away.]
Min-Giiiiii...
[Once he has Min-Gi's attention, he tilts his head up to look at him, for a very very serious question. Totally serious. Look at his not at all wrecked face.]
...Can we kiss yet?
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[ But Ryan nudges them out of the saloon and back out into the town. He shudders as the cold air hits him. It was still warm when he'd first left, but it's a lot colder now. It's lucky they're so close to the hotel, so it's not like he'll have to worry about it for long.
He finds himself distracted by the way it looks at night. Everything is so dark, but when it looks up the stars are bright. It's pretty. And distracting. It takes hearing his name put pull him back down to Earth(?), and he looks a little out of it still as he glances down at him to see what's up.]
Hm?
[Oh. Right. Kisses. They were going to do that, weren't they? He nods, feeling nervous all over again. He's so beautiful. He can't remember ever wanting to do anything more. Which doesn't mean that much at the moment, but still. It's something.
Min-Gi grabs both Ryan's hands in his own, taking a few clumsy steps backwards so there's a little space between them and the door. He doesn't want them to be disturbed again. He lets both hands go again with a little reluctance, but it seems a worthwhile sacrifice to be able to cup his face. His thumb brushes over the soft skin of his cheek as he looks into Ryan's eyes, and then he's leaning in, pressing their lips together in a kiss.]
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It's so soft.
His hands settle against Min-Gi's back, holding the two of them in place as they find another way to get to know each other without memories.
They aren't the most coordinated they could be with it, but the kiss is slow and surprisingly sweet considering how impatient Ryan's been to have it happen. They take their time with it, as if there's no one else in this town right now. There's no tongues or teeth, but Ryan hums a small content noise against Min's lips.
He could stay here forever, he's pretty sure.]
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He feels a pang as they eventually reach the point where the kiss naturally comes to an end. Min-Gi doesn't pull back. He remains with his face close to Ryan's, leaning slightly down to make up for the height difference. In the bar he'd seemed so large despite that. Out here, in the tenderness of the moment, he can feel how small he is.]
Was that okay?
[It had felt so nice, but he knows he'd misjudged Ryan's movements a few times, or turned his face the opposite to the way he should have. He's not certain Ryan will have enjoyed it as much as he did.]
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...Yeah! Yeah. Yes.
[He feels like he was quiet too long, just looking at Min-Gi in awe, so he makes up for it now with repeated enthusiasm. It was more than just okay, but there isn't really a word for that in his brain anymore. Maybe he forgot it.
All he can think to do is push himself up on tiptoe and kiss him again - a shorter, quicker ones planted on the corner of his mouth and his jawline.]
So okay.
[It's not like they needed to go anywhere, right? He can just stand here in the moonlight and sway a little in Min-Gi's arms and kiss him as much as he wants forever and it'll be great.]
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Not that he gets much chance before Ryan's lips are on his again, however briefly. It can't have been that bad if he wants to do it again. He's beaming by the time Ryan reaches his jawline, wide and goofy.]
Rad.
[He reaches out to cup Ryan's cheek again with one hand. Nice as his lips feel on his skin, he wants to kiss him properly again. He tilts his face back towards his lips. He's still gentle, but this time he chances a deeper kiss.]
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A cool evening breeze blows through them, and it sends a shiver so strong through Ryan that he can feel it in their kiss. This time when they part, Ryan is the one who speaks.]
--Chilly.
[He's breathless, and that's all he can manage to say before trying to kiss up Min-Gi's jawline again. If he isn't stopped, he'll try and catch his earlobe between his lips, not caring even a little that they're in the middle of the street in the middle of the night.]
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Once they do finally part he's just as breathless, and hyper aware of every little touch on his skin. The breeze is making him shiver slightly, but Ryan's mouth feels good as he works his way back along his jawline and he makes no protest, moving his hands to caress the small of Ryan's back as he explores.
The earlobe is what finally snaps him back to reality. It's so sensitive, and he can't supress a high whine in response to it. His shudder this time has nothing to do with the cold.]
Ryan...
[It's so good, but he's abruptly aware again they're in the middle of the street. There's no one around by now, but it still feels too much for somewhere so public. He reluctantly starts to step back, swallowing thickly as he tries to remember how to think again.]
We should get back. It's cold, and... [And he is absolutely starting to feel embarrassed about what they're doing. Or at the very least how open it is.] I-I don't even have a jacket.
[Yeah. Yep. No jacket. That's the problem here.]
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Yeah...it's preeeetty cold.
[The warmth that had been building mostly made up for that, but now that they aren't actively making out anymore he can feel it a little more, and it will probably be nicer if they're warm.
He doesn't fight it, but he does adjust himself so that he's clinging to one of Min-Gi's arms and resting his head on his shoulder. Everything's a little spinnier than it was (and he's choosing to blame it on the great kissing and not the fact that he drank a large tequila drink very quickly on top of multiple whiskey drinks) but he can walk. He's just feeling clingy and comfortable. After a few steps, he slows again so he can look up at Min-Gi.]
You cooooould borrow my jacket...? It's fun, it even swishes.
[You know, since Min-Gi said he was cold and didn't have one. There are many problems with this plan, but on the other hand he does take his free arm and wave it so the fringe swishes around.]
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Which he will have to, despite Ryan's offer. The absurdity of it startles a laugh from him, and he squints down at him trying to work out if he's serious.]
How? It'll never fit.
[But... it's still a sweet offer. He pauses to tilt his head down and press a quick kiss to the top of Ryan's.]
Thanks, but it's okay. We're close, right?
[It's right there! If they don't keep stopping they'll make it there in no time at all.]
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It could fit! You could-- you know, over your shoulders?
[He makes a little motion that's supposed to be miming tying the arms in front of him, like a cape, but it isn't actually that clear at all.
This kiss is so sweet though and enough to get Ryan to stop pushing the issue. He smiles so wide and settles back against Min-Gi's arm, making himself comfortable again.]
Yeah...yeah, it's up ahead. And it'll be warm...there's fires at night.
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And with Ryan clinging, at least one arm is warm?]
Fires? You... want to sit by them?
[Not that he doesn't want to spend more time with Ryan, but it's so late now. He'd been assuming that would be where they'd go their separate ways. Maybe make plans for a proper date first.]
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Fortunately for him though, his body betrays him. Just thinking about how tired he is makes him yawn, though he tries to disguise it but nuzzling into Min-Gi's arm.]
They're cozy...maybe too cozy?
[Definitely too cozy. He would fall asleep instantly. And he doesn't want to fall asleep, because he wants to keep kissing Min-Gi, but he's pretty tired from a long night of dancing and flirting and drinking.]
Ugh, I wish it wasn't so late...
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I know, but... I'd like to see you again. We could do something soon?
[He doesn't want to pressure him, but he really does want to get to know him better. At least as much as the lack of memories will allow it. He's torn as they finally do reach the hotel. It's nice to step back into the warmth, but it also means the night is probably coming to an end. It's the sensible thing, but he can't pretend he's feeling that enthusiastic about it.
He shrugs the arm that Ryan's clinging to slightly, the movement serving as a sort of gentle nudge.]
Want me to walk you up to your room?
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Yeah! Yeah, I wanna too! This is...you're so nice, I want to see you again and kiss you again and dance more and...and. You'll still be here tomorrow right...?
[Not that he's ever seen someone check out of the Staywell, but the thought of this all being temporary sucks. But Min-Gi wants to see him again too. He wants this too.
Min-Gi nudges him and asks his question like a gentleman, and Ryan nods directly into his arm.]
Mmm...second floor, second room.
[He flashes a peace sign twice - 2-2. After that though, he does try and straighten himself out just a little, making himself stand upright and look slightly more put together. He combs his fingers through his hair and manages to only wobble a little as he fishes his keys out of his pocket. It takes a couple tries to get the right pocket, but he succeeds eventually. He flashes a grin at Min-Gi as he jingles the keys victoriously.]
Such a gentleman, escorting me~
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[He's not sure where else he'd go, which is scary if he lets himself think too hard about it. It's nicer if he thinks about it as a chance to see Ryan again, assuming he's still interested once all the booze wears off.
Ryan does seem to manage to shake off some of the effects surprisingly well once he actually stands up though. It's almost a shame not to have the man latched onto his arm anymore, but it will make getting to his room a lot easier. The stairs may have been a challenge with their previous arrangement.
He shrugs, blushing faintly at the praise.]
It's the least I can do, right? You're the first person who's properly spoken to me here.
[Which... maybe makes the way this has gone down a little weird, but it's not his fault he met someone he clicked so well with so quickly. ]
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--and honestly, that happens almost immediately. Ryan is baffled by that admission.]
Seriously? Wow...wow, I can't even imagine not talking to you! Dude! That's...how?! You're so freaking handsome! I'm the FIRST person?
[He was doing so good for a second, but the drunk babbling has returned. Ryan catches Min-Gi's sleeve and tugs on it, as though he needs to get his attention after that outburst.]
But hey...I gueeess that means more for me~?
[Right? That's how that works, right?]
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I just got here. It's not like everyone's been ignoring me.
[Or he hopes not anyway. Ryan is nice. Ryan is very nice, but he can't expect him to be the only one who keeps him company. He probably has lots of other friends who want to spend time with him. He can't just hang out with Min-Gi all the time, even if there's a part of his mind insisting that might not be so bad.
He gently pries Ryan's hand from his sleeve, holding his hand instead.]
Come on. Bed time. Try not to yell when we go up.
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Min-Gi takes his hand and the warning makes him laugh, though he makes sure he keeps it quiet. Big, bold laughter would probably count as yelling.]
I'm not gonna yell! I'll be suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuper quiet...
[Ryan can behave himself for the last two minutes of this, probably. He'll even keep himself as steady as he can going up the stairs, not matter how weird going up feels. He doesn't let go of Min-Gi's hand though, not even for a second.]
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