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2.0 Test Drive Meme
2.0 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. This month, there is a strong possibility that those old west style clothes include a pair of jorts or daisy dukes.
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 May onward, and can happen concurrently with other events during May and June. This will be the only TDM for April, May, and June.
Applications are open April 26th until May 1st, and May 27th until June 1st. Invites are available for friends of current players.
All-Night Diner
Content warnings: feelings of euphoria and mild intoxication, exhaustion
There’s banner over the diner's doorway reading Welcome!, with colorful flags drooping in the heat. Inside, the waiter greets you with a wide smile and an announcement:
“Welcome to the Stardust Diner! Pie’s on the house today. Have a seat.”
During the day, the diner is just that: a diner. You can get anything on the very extensive menu, including prickly pear lemonade. The pie is free, and everything else is put on the tab for your room that will never come due, probably. It seems like a shame to eat that pie all alone! Accepting a piece of pie makes you feel like you should share this moment with someone. Luckily all the booths are plush and open, and it’s easy to plop down with a stranger to share this special moment.
At night, the mood shifts. The diner’s neon sign is a beacon against the thick darkness, beckoning you in with blinking lights and a line of text reading FORGET YOUR WORRIES. Inside, country-swing music rolls in time with throbbing red lights. The tables have been pushed aside to make room for a makeshift sticky dance floor, and the atmosphere is intoxicating.
It’s as easy as anything to be swept along with the vibes, the dancing, the intensity of it all. When you start dancing, you really do forget your worries. You forget that you don’t know how you got here and that you don’t may not even know the person beside you; you forget that you’re supposed to be anywhere else except here. Everything feels briefly perfect and beautiful, meant to be, no matter what else is happening to you.
When you stumble outside, it will be dawn, no matter how long you think you’ve been there, and you’ll be exhausted enough to simply curl up right there in the sand and fall asleep. Hope you made a friend kind enough to drag you home, or that someone wakes you up!
tl;dr:
There’s banner over the diner's doorway reading Welcome!, with colorful flags drooping in the heat. Inside, the waiter greets you with a wide smile and an announcement:
“Welcome to the Stardust Diner! Pie’s on the house today. Have a seat.”
During the day, the diner is just that: a diner. You can get anything on the very extensive menu, including prickly pear lemonade. The pie is free, and everything else is put on the tab for your room that will never come due, probably. It seems like a shame to eat that pie all alone! Accepting a piece of pie makes you feel like you should share this moment with someone. Luckily all the booths are plush and open, and it’s easy to plop down with a stranger to share this special moment.
At night, the mood shifts. The diner’s neon sign is a beacon against the thick darkness, beckoning you in with blinking lights and a line of text reading FORGET YOUR WORRIES. Inside, country-swing music rolls in time with throbbing red lights. The tables have been pushed aside to make room for a makeshift sticky dance floor, and the atmosphere is intoxicating.
It’s as easy as anything to be swept along with the vibes, the dancing, the intensity of it all. When you start dancing, you really do forget your worries. You forget that you don’t know how you got here and that you don’t may not even know the person beside you; you forget that you’re supposed to be anywhere else except here. Everything feels briefly perfect and beautiful, meant to be, no matter what else is happening to you.
When you stumble outside, it will be dawn, no matter how long you think you’ve been there, and you’ll be exhausted enough to simply curl up right there in the sand and fall asleep. Hope you made a friend kind enough to drag you home, or that someone wakes you up!
tl;dr:
- The diner is open and the pie is free.
- If you get a slice of pie, you feel compelled to share it with someone.
- At night, the diner transforms into essentially a nightclub. The vibes are intoxicating and you can forget all your worries and dance the night away.
- You can only leave at dawn, and your body will be exhausted. Better get help getting back to your room!
Something’s Coming
Content warnings: blood, blood-sucking, monsters
A few hours after dusk, strange creatures begin to scurry from shadow to shadow, chasing after anything that moves: chupacabras. Large ones. They’re big creatures, the size of large dogs with spikes down their spines and tails, dark and hairless with fearsome teeth. They are everywhere, and they are hungry.
They are indiscriminate in who they try to bite: the biggest among you is just as at risk as the smallest, but the bigger you are, the more of them might come for the fight. No matter where you are, there’s a risk: they seem adept at making their way into buildings. You might find one looming over your bed, resting on your chest, getting ready to bite; one might slip into the diner while you’re dancing and latch on when you’ve forgotten to be concerned.
If a chupacabra manages to bite you, it will suck your blood, and it won’t stop until you’re completely drained unless you do something about it. Having your blood sucked by one is not a pleasant experience, it’s excruciatingly painful and the creatures will do their best to keep you prone while eating their fill. The more they drink, the more exhausted you’ll get, until it’s very difficult to fight them off.
They can be killed or scared off, but the further they are into a fight or into their meal, the harder they are to get rid of. If a chupacabra has latched on to you, you’ll need help escaping!
tl;dr:
A few hours after dusk, strange creatures begin to scurry from shadow to shadow, chasing after anything that moves: chupacabras. Large ones. They’re big creatures, the size of large dogs with spikes down their spines and tails, dark and hairless with fearsome teeth. They are everywhere, and they are hungry.
They are indiscriminate in who they try to bite: the biggest among you is just as at risk as the smallest, but the bigger you are, the more of them might come for the fight. No matter where you are, there’s a risk: they seem adept at making their way into buildings. You might find one looming over your bed, resting on your chest, getting ready to bite; one might slip into the diner while you’re dancing and latch on when you’ve forgotten to be concerned.
If a chupacabra manages to bite you, it will suck your blood, and it won’t stop until you’re completely drained unless you do something about it. Having your blood sucked by one is not a pleasant experience, it’s excruciatingly painful and the creatures will do their best to keep you prone while eating their fill. The more they drink, the more exhausted you’ll get, until it’s very difficult to fight them off.
They can be killed or scared off, but the further they are into a fight or into their meal, the harder they are to get rid of. If a chupacabra has latched on to you, you’ll need help escaping!
tl;dr:
- Chupacabras strike the town at dusk.
- They want to suck your blood, and are indiscriminate in who they attack. They will try and drain you completely.
- They can be fought or scared off. It's easier to get rid of them if you have a pal.
The Walls Have Eyes
Content warnings: eyes, trypophobia
There are eyes everywhere. They peer out of cracks in walls, the floor, the grout in your shower, an open cut in your skin. There are even eyes in the craters on the moon, staring down at you unblinking.
These eyes seem familiar, even if you don’t remember them. You feel like you do. You feel a heavy weight settle over you when you look at them, guilt curdling in the pit of your gut.
The eyes belong to someone, or someones, who you’ve hurt or let down. They belong to your greatest mistake, to someone who you left behind, to someone who you regret. The same eyes over and over again, or the eyes of many who you’ve hurt, watching you, judging you, pleading for you to save them or apologize or make up for the mistakes you may not even remember making. You just know that you made them. They eyes don't lie.
The more you ignore these eyes, the more they seem to encroach on you: appearing in the walls, following you around corners, in the creases of your knuckles, the fold of your sheets. They replace the eyes of the people around you, the same eyes staring at you from everywhere you look.
Your skin itches with the constant feeling of being watched. Your head feels tight, and your own eyes feel too full, like there’s too much of you inside your skin. You’d do anything to get away from this feeling.
Soon enough, the mounting pressure explodes: you have to confront them and your guilt and your mistakes, and beg for the forgiveness they’re asking of you. Even if you don’t remember what those mistakes were, or why you should feel guilty, you have to tell someone. If you don't, the feeling will only mount, until all you can see are eyes. Eyes, just eyes.
tl;dr:
There are eyes everywhere. They peer out of cracks in walls, the floor, the grout in your shower, an open cut in your skin. There are even eyes in the craters on the moon, staring down at you unblinking.
These eyes seem familiar, even if you don’t remember them. You feel like you do. You feel a heavy weight settle over you when you look at them, guilt curdling in the pit of your gut.
The eyes belong to someone, or someones, who you’ve hurt or let down. They belong to your greatest mistake, to someone who you left behind, to someone who you regret. The same eyes over and over again, or the eyes of many who you’ve hurt, watching you, judging you, pleading for you to save them or apologize or make up for the mistakes you may not even remember making. You just know that you made them. They eyes don't lie.
The more you ignore these eyes, the more they seem to encroach on you: appearing in the walls, following you around corners, in the creases of your knuckles, the fold of your sheets. They replace the eyes of the people around you, the same eyes staring at you from everywhere you look.
Your skin itches with the constant feeling of being watched. Your head feels tight, and your own eyes feel too full, like there’s too much of you inside your skin. You’d do anything to get away from this feeling.
Soon enough, the mounting pressure explodes: you have to confront them and your guilt and your mistakes, and beg for the forgiveness they’re asking of you. Even if you don’t remember what those mistakes were, or why you should feel guilty, you have to tell someone. If you don't, the feeling will only mount, until all you can see are eyes. Eyes, just eyes.
tl;dr:
- The eyes of someone(s) who embodies your regret appear in the cracks of the world around you.
- The more you ignore the eyes, the more of them appear, and the more you feel an intense, heavy sense of guilt.
- The guilt you feel can be based on things you remember, or things you don't. If it's based on things you don't know, your head will also hurt.
- The eyes will ease if you admit your guilt, to the best of your ability. Tell someone your guilt, and the eyes will recede.
- If you don't, your whole world will become eyes.
Vic | The Princess Beard
Vic has amazing powers of conjuring tea and cake but one of the memories he gets gives him the absolute conviction that if people know he has these powers they will hate him. Unfortunately he's not very bright and doesn't think anyone will think it's him if they don't actually see him do it.]
1 [High Noon Tea]
[One of the tables at the diner has been transformed. It's covered in a big white doily. There's pie, yes, but it stands out as being more prosaic than the rest of the spread. A couple of teapots, and pretty teacups with enamel handles, and a bowl of sugar cubes with tongs, a plate of lemon slices, a little cream pitcher. A larger pitcher with iced tea, beaded with condensation. Then there's a plate of various little tea sandwiches without crusts, and one of tea cakes with elegant icing patterns, and an elaborately sliced apple... It does not fit the surrounding decor at all. Vic looks a little anxiously over. He cannot fit into the booth, so he just stands in the aisle, in the way.]
Hey, bro, you want some of this? I just asked about tea and [he waves a big ham hand] everything!
2 [Centaur of Attention]
[Can Vic dance? Well he can kind of jig, but that's more a nervous reflex than a dance. He's a bit clumsy and also weighs at least a ton. Somehow he manages not to careen across the dance floor too often and instead mainly jumps in place like he's at a mosh pit (CLOP CLOP CLOP) and flails his arms. You might get tail flicked or bounce off him, and he'll yell an apology and try to hand you a cookie. Where did that come from?
Alternately when you stumble out at dawn you may stumble across him - possibly literally - having laid his lower half down out of sheer exhaustion, his human torso still semi upright with his hands braced on the ground.]
Oh, man... five more minutes, I'll be up.
3 [TEAVENGE wait no that doesn't make sense what's the revenge for-]
[Maybe this chupacabra was after you! Maybe it was on Vic. Either way, he makes a weird noise - "Hgahhh!" - and a forceful gesture, and a splash of oversteeped hibiscus tea, reheated to boiling, manifests to fall on the creature! You might get hit with a few drops yourself. It does not appreciate the heat or the overwhelming sour musty taste and has to pause and writhe a little. Vic dances in place, his big hooves clumping.]
Aw yeah, get some, get some!
[There are more converging. Fight with him? Leave him here? Try to get on his broad back and hi ho silver away? I can run with whatever.]
Wildcard
[I'm flexible! Run into this horse himbo anywhere, possibly drinking an iced tea. He never seems to go long without having something to eat or drink, but you never see him carrying anything either.]
2, morning
(Strange, still, to see the diner whole and hale and full of food, like it had never fallen to heartbreaking pieces. Flynn's gaze flicks to it every few seconds, like he expects it to fall away again).
He hasn't made any more sense of the jumble of limbs when said jumble starts to talk, and given that he can't exactly ask excuse me sir are you trapped on top of a horse, do you need help finding your legs he says, a little mystified, ]
You really shouldn't— um, it's not safe to... sleep there. The sun is only going to get worse. You'll burn.
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[Oblivious to all that, Vic switches his tail and rouses a cloud of dust. The transition from man to horse, on him, isn't all that abrupt. A mane, gathered into buns that are coming loose, travels up his man-spine to his man-hair, which has its own now messy bun. He's got furry horse ears. On the other side of his human torso, where some men have a trail of hair he's got more fur reaching up his belly.
He's also big, even half laying down. Vic's human half would be an ogre of a man, well matched to what a large horse the rest of him is.]
Don't wanna swab the deck today, bro... it's all swayin'.
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Flynn can't seem to convince himself to look away. What he's seeing doesn't make sense, outside of fairy-stories or— or something, but he can't just stare at this poor man and not help. He remembers Mayoi, limp and red.
Carefully, he picks over a few rocks and some over-eager cacti to get closer, tentative. ]
I'm sure you don't want to get up.
[ turns out, when you're bent on helping someone avoid heat stroke, it's easier to just avoid social decorum altogether. Flynn stands by Vic's side with his mouth turned into a tight little frown and reaches out to gently shake one shoulder. ]
But I promise you the sun won't be worth it, so as tired as you may be, you really do have to get up.
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Aw man. Why do you have to be right?
[His mouth is dry. Vic just barely stops himself from doing something about that, there's a guy watching. Everything is terrible!
Slowly he starts the process of getting to his feet, too weary to do it all in one surging motion. Vic pulls in all four legs and gets them positioned, then heaves up, and up! It's a very equine motion, his hands and arms aren't involved much if at all. He is a good eight feet tall and already sweat-streaked.]
Think I partied too hard, bro.
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[ Do not step back do not step back—
Flynn has to step back. He wasn't in any danger of being knocked into but that's a lot of bulk moving unexpectedly and he doesn't want to—well. He'll justify his lack of bravery to himself later, because this poor man really doesn't look... great...
And Flynn can't just leave him to it now that he's bullied the poor man into standing. He casts a look into the diner, thinks for half a second, and then steps carefully back over the cactus. ]
Wait here just a moment, please! Try not to fall asleep again. I'll be right back.
[ He's just going to dart inside and come back out in about a minute with an absolutely towering glass of water, studded with ice. ]
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[Just enough pollen's started to be released by the budding cacti that his eyes itch, too. Being Vic is suffering. It is tempting to nod off again, he can do that standing up for short periods, though it's better if he can lean on something.
...wait the guy's gone off for a moment. Hurriedly, Vic cups his hands together and conjures a little handle-less cup of mint tea that he bolts guiltily, flanks shivering in anticipation of getting caught. As soon as he's gulped the couple swallows of cooling liquid he pitches the cup. It shatters against the side of the Staywell just as Flynn is opening the door again.]
Oh, hey, that's real sweet of you, bro. Thanks.
[Totally no mint smell, totally not more awake and aware than he was a minute ago. Broken and without his attention on it, the discarded ceramic vanishes again. Vic's not a pottery wizard, after all.]
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Well, Flynn offers up his water regardless, wondering at how fresh the air is this morning. ]
It's really no trouble. I'd hate for you to get heat stroke! The first month we were here, no one really knew how to handle the sun, and there were a lot of injuries. Once you've drunk that—you have a room, don't you? At the hotel?
2
Lying there, face down in the dust, all he could think to do was let out a tired, pained groan.]
We could just sleep here.
But. The sun.
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Urgh... not the sun, bro... I'm tan enough already, it's gonna start peeling... dunno where my hat went.
[He is indeed quite tanned. Vic starts to pull his legs in, one at a time, initiating the rather involved process that is a centaur standing up. His human half is massive, well suited to the draft horse of his lower body, but arms just can't do all the work of getting this bulk to all fours.
Also he's got like a glass of iced tea now and is spilling a little as he drinks it. In the early heat it's immediately wet with condensation. Maybe caffeine will help?]
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We'll get you one from the shop. 's where I got mine.
[Clearly, someone was unwilling to move.]
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Aw, bro, that's sweet. Man. Bro. I guess I gotta get up huh.
[He looks down and frowns with concentration. Legs... posed. He rolls his over-a-ton bulk on to them after a false start or two, and with his hooves on the ground now stands his back legs up, then his forelegs... up and up! As a draft centaur Vic's a good eight feet tall.]
Oooh, I did that too fast... [His head is spinning. He rubs his scalp, trying to clear the brainmeats underneath, and conscientiously keeps his hooves planted so he doesn't accidentally step on Aizawa. It's a very bad idea to stomp people if they haven't tried to harvest his organs or something first, he knows that much.
The tea glass has vanished.] Bro, you need help down there?
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Why anyone would harvest a centaur's organs, he didn't know. Horse people were fine. Totally fine.
Totally normal.]
I've got it. I think.
[He said, unsteadily rising up out of the dust with the lumbering grace of a cryptid that had been knocked from the shadows. At just near six feet in height, he was average size for a human... and not at all deterred by the massive difference in height between them.]
...Was that tea? Where did you get it?
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[Vic's eyes go wide and he fidgets in place, oh shit this guy noticed the ice tea!]
Uhh, no? Um. I mean, I don't know? Bruh, I just put out my hand and it was there. Maybe the tea fairy brought it.
[This sounds extremely convincing. He switches his tail.]
That kinda thing's happening a lot here. You want I should find some for you too?
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While he only had one eye, he wasn't blind.]
Sure. Whatever.
[He said, bracing a hand against the side of the horse-body without request or invitation while he adjusted his footing in the sand.]
Tea fairies are totally possible around here.
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Bro I dunno what's possible or not, don't ask me. Uh. I'm Vic.
[Vic really doesn't want to dwell on the topic of where mysterious tea and cakes come from! People won't like him if they know, he is dead certain of this. He has to be swole and masc and hide his power, even if it's useful sometimes.
Despite his size and his ability to grow a mildly sketchy soul patch, there's a young aspect to this centaur. 'Late teens' really. Something about his hands and hooves suggests, alarmingly, that he might not actually be at his full height yet.]
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[He was quite thirsty and curious about the 'tea fairies', and he wouldn't care in the least if Vic revealed his power. That said-- they could drop the subject.
Instead of dwelling on it, Aizawa quirked a brow.]
I hope you're okay with your rooms location. I don't think the steps had physical differences and weight capacity in mind when they were built.
[As a high school teacher, he couldn't just leave a young person flailing in the face of the unhelpful staff. Someone needed to advocate for the people that didn't like pickles. ]
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3
There are more of the creatures trying to sneak up on the centaur's flank, so Jono does what any self respecting fellow would do and starts waving his arms like a maniac and yelling. Well. 'Yelling.' Jono can only communicate with telepathy, which has never stopped him from projecting his thoughts out to literally everything within radius regardless of whether or not they are even conscious beings.
He's not smart, okay?]
~Oi oi! Over 'ere you ugly dogs!~ [He's not really sure what they are, but they look canine anyway. Two of the three creatures look over, but only one rushes toward him. Which is when he realises he's completely unarmed, and so he runs in a half circle, heading in a round-about way closer to Vic.]
~This is not the rescue I had planned!~
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None of you little creeps lift!
[look he has zero points in witty combat dialogue and is just letting the tension of the moment run without filter through his mouth.
Vic pivots on his forelegs, swishing his tail, and raises a hind leg in what anyone who works with horses knows is a pretty serious warning. The spined creature doing the rushing doesn't work with horses and catches a hoof to the body. The chupacabra is launched off its feet with the force of that kick and tumbles to the ground, where it writhes. It would've been dramatic if it hadn't happened so quickly. Maybe if it was dramatic that'd be enough to scare the others off right now!
He has basically horse limitations on kicking - straight back like that is like being hit by a car, a sideways kick from his hind feet is still nasty, front hooves can't kick as well - but also the added centaur limitation that he's got a human field of view and if his head's not turned he can't see behind him. The manifesting boiling tea, fine, tisane is also limited by having to see where to put it unless he gets drastic and also he doesn't want to do it where someone can see. Vic looks around, trying to point his butt where a flying kick will do the most good.]
Bro... thanks, but might be time to get out of here instead.
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Like the totally awesome winner he is, Jono gives Vic a quick thumbs up when he's saved by that honestly impressive kick. He moves closer, being very sure not to be on the kicking end.]
~I think you're absolutely right.~
[He grabs hold of Vic and swings gracefully up onto his back... in his mind. In reality he's never ridden a horse in his life, so he sort of stares and awkwardly tries to clamber up. One of the chupacabras takes this opportunity to dart forward and take a bite at his calf. Luckily, Jono manages to haul himself up onto Vic's back - backwards - before the creature can do more than get a quick bite in. It hurts (in a dim sort of way) but it's not serious.
The chupacabra, for its part, hacks for a moment and then lunges for Vic instead. Apparently the centaur is much tastier.]
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What the hell, bro, I was gonna pick you up in my masculine arms!
[He cow-kicks the coughing chupacabra just as Jono gets himself pulled out of the way, a nasty little sideways lash that gets it to reel even if it's not as powerful as that backwards kick, and thrusting an arm back along his back to grab whatever clothing or anatomy falls under his big ham hand - he can tell the guy isn't balanced very well - he starts galloping with a heroic cry:]
Don't touch my butt that's sensitive!
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~Well, I didn't know that, did I?~ [He probably should have asked. It would have actually been more dignified that scrabbling onto Vic's back and then being held in place like an errant toddler.]
~Why would I touch your butt?~ [He manages to sound completely affronted even as he clings like a barnacle to Vic's back. He also unwisely kicks at a chupacabra that's trying to sneak closer.]
~Just go~
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[SWITCH SWITCH SWITCH his tail is going and might sting if it hits. Vic's referred to his whole horse body as his 'butt' before, so. who knows!
Anyway, galloping! Vic is not a smooth ride at a run. He rocks as he goes, the impact of each heavy leg resonating up through his body. There's a definite sense of the size and force of him, all those muscles bunching and releasing, and that fur is kinda slippery. While many types of horse or centaur would be faster, this is still a good clip quicker than a human can manage.
The chupas pursue a little ways but tbh Vic's a difficult target, and they're not the boldest monsters. He could probably stop now?]
I coulda [huff!] taken them. [Cardio's not really his forte.]
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[Jono just hangs on for dear life. Backwards. Once the chupacabras have faded into the distance he risks patting what he's pretty sure is not a butt. Pretty sure.]
~Oi, I think you can stop now. Preferably before I fall off. And I'm not sure trying to 'take them' would have been smart. They seemed to think you would be rather tasty.~
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[There's more twitching as Jono pats his flank. It tickles! By now Vic has gallumphed to within sight of the graveyard, and finally he slows and comes to a stop.]
It's the [huff] risk I took in becoming [huff] swole, bro. Everyone wants a piece of Vic.
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