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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.
Questions
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Ruby Rose | RWBY
[There's one new addition to the lobby that stands more than a little. It's a tree oddly shaped like a teenage girl with a somber expression just growing out of the floor.
There's not much to be said about it other than that. It remains that way for a few hours and can be messed with in any number of ways. Eventually it'll suddenly start to shake, lines and cracks will form all along the tree as if there was something inside trying to break out.]
[The Walls Have Eyes.]
[Since emerging from the tree, Ruby had felt the crushing weight of guilt for actions she didn't remember. It was a weight that felt familiar- perhaps all consuming and she hadn't felt the need to share it with anyone. She was fine. She would be fine on her own.
But then the eyes started to appear. And the weight of those actions started to hang heavier on her. And at first she thought she could just ignore that too. But then more and more eyes started to loom over her.
Eventually it hits her. She snaps-. She bursts out of room and comes crashing through the hallway. Hands pulling her cloak up over her face- But there's just more eyes in there. She'll come crashing into someone and after a brief stumble she'll move to push them out of the way.]
Leave me alone!
[All Night Diner. Nighttime.]
[To say Ruby had been moody since arriving was an understatement. If there was one thing going in her favor it was that she did seem to be actively trying to stay away from anyone here. Which is why she had come to the diner later in the evening. Unfortunately she hadn't expected the dance floor to be set up. There was a brief moment where she looked shocked but she also felt lighter. And that feeling more than anything caught up with her.
Anyone who catches Ruby on the dancefloor will see someone very different on the dance floor. She's out there grinning wide, cheerful, and dancing up a storm. ...Unfortunately she's not actually very good at what she's doing. And odds are if someone is dancing near her, her heel is coming right down on their toes.]
[Wildcard]
[Have anything else in mind? Go for it. Or shoot a pm to jjabarrett on plurk to plot something out.]
ARRIVAL
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Arrival
Re: Arrival
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all night diner
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the walls have eyes
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👀
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Diner
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eyes on the inside
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Need | Heralds of Valdemar
When someone's been dead as long as she has they get used to forgetting things but she really should have more context than this. She does remember how to lock down her powers, and that otherwise right now they'd overwhelm her. Her powerset is absurd but for this and for now they're mainly inactive - she can pick up on if a person or etc is magic, she can sense the emotions of someone close by, she's really a mass of spirit particles pretending very well to be a living body but she can't change them rn]
1 [do I like pie?]
[Lashan... or should it be Need, still? inspects a slice on a plate and uses her fingers to break off a bit of crust. Smells it. It's pleasant enough, but the little circle of things she knows includes this is just a facsimile I set up of my old body and she's pretty sure she hasn't actually eaten in long enough that doing so now would be on the intense side. Does she want that? Can she even handle more than a bite or two?]
Hmn. I don't think I actually need to eat. [She looks up and quirks gray eyebrows in an ironic invitation.] How about you, child?
[Unfortunately she'll say that to a character of any age.]
2 [you can take the spirit out of the sword but you can't take swords out of...]
[How dare there be no weapons. Lashan - yes, today it's Lashan - grumbles as she searches through the town. The best she comes up with for this prompt is one of the multi-tools with a tiny knife in the shop, and a reasonably sized iron bar not totally eaten by rust. She gets one end of that wrapped up to act as a handle and tries to at least get the other end pointy by scraping it against brick and rock and whatever else might work. Scrape, scrape, the sound carries.]
3 [a passable pun for this section: eye have it!]
[The old woman's stubborned the eyes out for a good while and eventually resorted to sitting on a porch, either with her own eyes closed or looking at the sky. She's been presented with an awful lot of these eyes and is completely certain that even before ending up here she wouldn't remember most of them. It's very unpleasant. If you come near, she sounds resigned more than maddened.]
You, too? Or am I going mad in my old age?
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Eda Clawthorne | The Owl House
[ Leaning on the reception desk, Eda's having an idle conversation with the receptionist, her eyes half on him, and half on the rest of the lobby. She doesn't know what she's looking for, but she feels like something's missing. It's an acute, odd feeling ]
Wellstone's not what it used to be, but we're really working to ramp up tourism. You're here, aren't you?
Sure am. You've got sand, dirt, and more sand. What's not to like?
Don't worry about the storm. It'll blow right through.
Storm, huh? I don't feel it in my bones.
What is there to do in town? I'd check out the saloon, and the diner has great food if you want something different. Stay in town, though, it gets dangerous outside at night.
Who's afraid of a little danger? [ Her toothy smile grows, one gold fang glinting ] You get out much, mister?
Wellstone's not what it used to be, but we're really working to ramp up tourism. You're here, aren't you?
Sure am, sure am. Dirt and sand, blah blah...
[ This goes on and on for a while, Eda oddly patient with this automaton of a man. It's fun, almost trance like, to be stuck in this loop of conversation. ]
2. Always time for pie
[ Eda has several slices of pie around her, tucked into a booth in the diner. She looks up when you enter the diner, or walk by, and grins at you, waving you over with the fork in her hand ]
You ever try this? "Key lime". Never heard of anything like that! What d'you think it's the key to? Didn't know limes had locks!
[ She snorts a laugh at her own joke ]
3. Something's coming
[ Eda's running. She's running and she doesn't want to be running--she can fight, she knows she can, but she doesn't know how, and she isn't foolhardy enough to think she can. After her are two chupacabras, teeth bared, paws hitting the ground silently. She knows enough to know not to mess with those things.
She'll run right by you, calling out: ]
Bloodsuckers, comin' through!
4. The walls have eyes
[ The guilt becomes pressing, so pressing, and Eda can't face it, doesn't want to face it. Brown eyes tracing her, green eyes watching her, gold eyes appearing on her skin, and she wants it to stop, wants it to stop, wants to not feel this guilt anymore.
She keeps busy, walks around town, gets food, gets a drink, talks to people, her energy frenetic, intense, focusing on anything and everything but the eyes. She may corner you with a bright, fake smile ]
New here too, aren't ya? Never thought of myself as a desert kind of gal, but I'm liking it. The get up's something.
[ Or she'll cover her own eyes with her arms, crouching down behind a building, around a corner, murmuring to herself ]
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't want to--I never wanted to, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--
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how could i resist (3)
ur making the best decision
i am, as are you
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Arrival
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cecelia ardenbury - an oc - ota
o2. diner (ota)
o3. chubacabra (fcfs)
o4. eyes (ota)
1 slides a gremlin
yesss gremolinnn
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1, buckle up here comes the pain train
YESSSS ALL ABOARD
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Nicholas D Wolfwood | Trigun Stampede
[Sand.
Hot air fills his mouth with every inhale. He sticks his hand in his pocket and comes up with nothing. He stares at it and reaches behind him. Nothing. Something is missing.
Wolfwood glances behind him. Sand. Desert. That feels right. He glances around at the buildings. There's something not quite right. Fragments of memory drift up like a puff of smoke.
He has to stick to Vash. Why? No answer. He's getting sick of the lack of answers. His brow furrows. He focuses on the blank spot and his head explodes with pain. He weathers it.
Blood drips from his nose and he wipes it away. No answers. Just pain.]
Fine, I get it.
[He stops himself from reaching behind him this time and trudges into the seemingly lifeless looking town.]
All-Night Diner
[Unfamiliar face is sitting in the booth closest to the door. One leg crossed over the other Nicholas D Wolfwood swirls his drink and makes eye contact with whoever appears.] Why don't you have a seat?
[He slides a plate of pie towards the seat across from him. If you sit down he gets a sandwich and takes a bite of it. He slides a platter of fries to the center of the table. He waits a moment.] So, how often do people come to town?
Something's Coming
[Shapes move in the dusk and he watches them idly, one hand in his pocket. Fast moving creatures. A thought bubbles up to the surface of his mind.
I'm faster.
Weird, but he'll trust it. If he can't trust himself. Life is going to be really fucking short. One of the beasts rushes at him. For a moment the world makes utter and complete sense. Other beasts rush at him from all directions. He's out here as the sun is fading.
What else could he expect? Everything in this world has the urge to survive. It's dog eat dog.
He waits until they're almost in reaching distance, then leaps. He catches the edge of the roof of the general store and hauls himself up.
There's something missing from the experience. He spits out his toothpick.] Fuck off and find better prey!
[Or, if the creatures are coming for you. A wooden board catches one hard in the face. Wolfwood blocks their path of attack on one side and hefts his board.] Are there really no weapons in this town? That's a shit way to live.
Wildcard
[Got an idea? Pm me and get a custom prompt.]
Diner
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something's coming
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Arrival
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Vax'ildan Vessar | Critical Role
[The diner at night catches his eye. He'd wandered out into the night to hunt for his twin. He has to find her. It's not a want. It's a need borne out of desperation he can't place. He'd tried to remember why and...it hadn't gone so well.
Back to the Diner. Forget your worries. He's drawn to the sign and the lights. He presses the door open. Pulsing music grasps at him like reaching hands. Maybe...she's in here.
He doesn't leave until later, kicking the door open as the sun crests the horizon. He sags against the wall with a tired puff,] ...what the fuck was..?
[Vax has tapered ears, long dark hair, and dressed like some cow wrangler. He drops his hat to the side and stumbles away from the diner. One might see him, using the walls of buildings to hold himself up. Or might find him just as he starts to collapse outside the hotel.]
Something's Coming
[He's coming back to the hotel when he has the sense that something is following him. He keeps walking. The sense of eyes upon him increases. Red eyes flash in the darkness. He pretends not to notice. Vax takes his room key and tucks it between his fingers.
A shoddy weapon, but it's something. Just as he's about to turn to face whatever is coming after him....
He sees a woman in black robes with a white mask over her face. It's just a moment. But it makes his head ache and he doubles over, as his blood runs cold.
Everything is cold. Raven feathers flutter in the breeze as the beasts close in on the fallen Vax'ildan.]
The walls have eyes.
[It starts when he washes his face and heads down for breakfast. A strange glowing eye with a slit pupil stares accusingly up at him in a crack by his door. Vax stops in mid-pulling his coat on. He kneels down to stare at it. He lifts his hand and drops it. He recognizes this eye.
Vax takes a breath, pulls his hair back with a strip of leather and walks away while tying it. He almost runs into someone coming down the hall. He steps to the side and turns to face them.] Morning, seen anything weird lately?
[Nothing weird happening. Nothing at all. The eye had to be a fluke. He spots another one in the mirror. A stab of guilt he can't remember the cause of makes him swallow hard.]
all-night diner
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The Curious Cat | RWBY
[The Cat is sitting on the Receptionist's desk in the lobby, with their tail curled around their body, and their paw on their room key.]
Well, yes, I know you have my reservation, but the question is, who made it? It wasn't me. Or, at least, I don't think it was me.
[The tip of their tail flicks in agitation as the Receptionist once again, welcomes them to the hotel and gives them their room number.]
But you've told me that already. Along with not to worry about the storm, the time breakfast is served, what there is to do here, that the town isn't what it used to be and that you hope I enjoy my stay. All perfectly wonderful things to say, I assure you, but none of which answer my question about who made the reservation.
[The Cat heaves an unhappy sigh, and regards the Receptionist regretfully.]
I see. You've left me with no other choice, then, I'm afraid.
[They stand, and arch their back as they stretch, then walk across the counter to the bell and place a paw on it. Their eyes never leave the Receptionist as they flick it off the top of the desk.]
Oops. How terribly clumsy of me.
[2a. Diner - Day]
[They didn't think they wanted a piece of pie, and really, they don't care for the lemon base, but the meringue is quite tasty, they have discovered, and they're on their third plate.
The other two are shoved off to the side of the table, nothing but crust and lemon filling left as the Cat is perched in the booth with their front paws on the tabletop as they lap at the light whippy pie topping.
They pause when they notice someone nearby, looking up, and licking their lips.]
Well, hello! Would you care to join me?
[2b. Diner - Night/Dawn]
[Once the tables are pushed aside and the music starts, the Cat is easily swept up in the joyous atmosphere. They didn't even know they knew how to dance, but they can't help but find themselves up on their back legs, spinning around to the beat of the music. At least until the lights catch their eyes, and they give up the dance for a game of chase instead, pouncing on the light as it reflects on the shiny checked floor of the diner. Hope they don't trip you!
It's a long night, a busy night, but a fun one. Still, once they stumble out of the diner come dawn, the hotel feels too far away to bother. The sand is warm and inviting, so they simply curl up in a sunny spot to sleep.]
[3. The Walls Have Eyes]
[The eyes are everywhere and they hate it. At first, it just seems like a novelty, and the Cat is aware they don't even look the way eyes should. Two sets, one gold, one purple, both just plain orbs, but they know. They know they are eyes, and they know those are the eyes of whoever it is that has left them.
At first they simply sit and stare back. They don't feel guilty. They don't. They didn't do anything wrong. They didn't leave anyone behind, or send them to this godforsaken place with no memory of why they're even here to begin with. If anyone should feel guilty, it's them. Yes, of course, it's the eyes' fault.
It's fine.
Sometimes they swipe at the eyes to try to chase them off. Maybe that's the solution, and maybe that's how you find the Cat - trying to scratch out a pair of eyes that have appeared in the wood of a tree, or on a rock, tail lashing as their skin ripples down their back as they try to fight off the eyes they resent and don't understand as though that's the solution to their problem, and not going to result in even more cropping up around them as they let out a yowl of fury.
They do not feel guilty, they tell themselves. Not about any of it.]
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3. no one has ever deserved this more
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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
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eddie munson — stranger things
( This place feels strange in the sense that this is precisely where he feels like he needs to be, but at the same time, he doesn't remember why he needs to be here. What he does know is that he has not a clue of where else he should be, so it seems like his best course of action is to stick around. Besides, apparently he has a reservation, and who is he to argue otherwise?
Edward Munson, or Eddie as he's much more likely to answer to, steps out of the hotel like a man on a mission. What that mission is, even Eddie doesn't seem to know, as he pauses to look at the stretch of land before him. Those who spot him might take notice of the curly dark brown hair nestled under a rather fashionable Stetson. They might also notice that Eddie is dressed in all black: black shirt, black gloves, black coat, black pants, even his boots are black. Whether that's part of a fashion statement or evidence of an overall dislike of color remains to be seen.
But he does look every bit the outlaw, and for those purporting to be the law of the land, they might want to keep an eye on this one. )
Right, let's get a little lost, then, shall we?
ii. all-night diner
( Who can resist free pie? Free anything, really, and so it's no surprise that Eddie is shoving his face full of pie. It's so good! He looks over at the poor soul sitting diagonally across the diner from him, still in the process of finishing the bite he just took. )
This is some really good pie, seriously, you've gotta try this.
( Hope you're ready to spend the next few hours here eating pie with Eddie, because he has no plans on leaving anytime soon. Not even when the diner seems to shift gears to becoming a little more in tune with the nightlife. )
iii. the walls have eyes
( There's no mistaking whose eyes are staring back at him as Eddie tries to tear his own eyes away from the accusatory gaze. Eddie feels frozen in place, his throat closing up as he stumbles backwards.
Even looking away doesn't seem to help, though, because there they are again.
He can't even blame this one a drug trip, goddammit. He's sober as can be, but he'll never forget those eyes, or who they belong to. Chrissy Cunningham, still dressed in her cheer uniform, waiting in his trailer. He might not remember much else, but there's no way in hell he'd forget the way her body contorted right there in his living room.
And now all Eddie wants to do is the exact same thing that he did when he witnessed her gruesome death.
He runs. Runs, right into some other poor soul. )
Shit, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm really not having a good day.
( And there are her eyes again, judging him menacingly from the corner of his vision. )
iv. wildcard
( If none of these are to your fancy, please feel free to suggest something else. pm or
iii
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ii
steve harrington / stranger things
( is it possible to party so hard you forget, uh. literally everything? because steve doesn't remember any of this. not this hotel, not the town. not even yesterday. he preens over an outfit that doesn't feel quite right, steps out into a town that he should know (because why else would he be here?) but doesn't, and... that's it. he doesn't really know where to go from here.
without so much as a peep from the ol' ancient reptilian brain to guide him (perhaps because it's the wrong canon but who can say), he settles his hands on his hips and surveys the land with a squint worthy of any clint eastwood film as if it might bring back a morsel of memory.
it doesn't.
so he nods to the nearest stranger. )
Hey. ( play it cool, he reminds himself. try and figure this shit out but don't let them catch on. ) Pretty crazy night, huh?
( with some luck he can glean some details from you, his new best friend. )
all-night diner
( free pie. who could say no?
steve harrington, that's who. he's stood at the counter, sneering at the pie as if he's been offered a plate of something far less palatable than a slice of key lime. )
Yyyeaaahh, and spend all night barfing my guts out from food poisoning? I don't think so. This looks like it's been sitting out all day, ( he's saying, when he notices he's not the only customer being offered a sampling the diner's fine wares. he cuts his eyes over to his fellow patron and frowns. ) You're not seriously considering eating that crap, are you?
something's coming
( maybe it's because he doesn't remember a goddamn thing, but the thought didn't even cross steve's mind that going outside at night in a populated area might result in being chased by a — fuck, what is that thing? he's not sure. he couldn't get a good look at it before it started chasing him, and though his first instinct is to grab something and fight the thing he doesn't actually have any weapons.
so he runs. )
Heyheyheyhey! ( he yells, the words blending together as if it's just one long, singular word comprised of several staccato heys. he waves his arms at whoever he's running towards in the international sign for "haul ass immediately, there's some kind of animal chasing me." ) Go go go! There's a — Shit! ( the thing lunges and comes so close he can feel the breeze of its swiping claws as it barely misses him. ) Just run!
wildcard
( i'm open! feel free to hit me up with whatever here or
something
diner
Darin Altway | Original Character | Open to All
-I WANNA DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY-
-CHUPACABRA KADABRA-
-EYES ON ME-
lmao hi (eyes on me)
OH SHIT HI
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jesus christ eyes
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nagito komaeda | dangan ronpa
ii. something's coming
iii. the walls have eyes
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Jaune Arc | RWBY | Volume 9 Spoilers (Will Keep Minimal)
2. something's coming
[cw: violence against monstrous animals]
diner
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Martin Blackwood | The Magnus Archives
[It's been a weird day. Martin thinks it's probably the weirdest one he's ever had, except it's hard to confirm that when he can't remember specific days. Surely turning up in a strange hotel with no memory of how or why he was there, or much of anything really that came before, has to rank somewhere on that list, right?
Mostly, he steps into the diner to get out of the midday sun and have a little break, maybe something to drink, but when he's offered a slice of free pie, Martin settles into a booth to eat. It's actually really good. Good enough that the inclination to share is strong enough to make him gesture to someone nearby.]
Here, come and sit down. You've got to try this pie. It's really good.
2. Something's Coming
[He's on his way back from the general store at dusk when he thinks he sees something slipping silently through the shadows between two buildings, and it makes Martin go still as he watches to try to spot what it is. He isn't sure of much as he peers into the darkness, except it was big. Maybe a dog? Yeah, a dog. It's probably just a dog. Hopefully not a coyote, or if it is, hopefully not a mean, or hungry one.
Cursing himself silently, he picks up the pace for the hotel. He's learned very little about this place today, mostly that it's weird, and some of the townspeople just repeat the exact same handful of lines over and over again, and he's not the only one here who seems to be having problems remembering their lives before coming here aside from a few scattered details. He never should have been out at night. He should have known there was something dangerous lurking once the sun went down.
Something darts across the road in front of him, big, dark, with menacing looking spikes that run down the center of its back, and Martin breaks into a run. He's not much of a runner, but the hotel isn't far. Maybe he can make it. Glancing behind him as he runs past the alley the second shadow slipped down, he slams bodily into someone he hadn't noticed initially. He hasn't run far, but he already sounds out of breath.]
Sorry! Sorry! Just... there's something back there!
3. The Walls Have Eyes
[It feels like a bad dream at first, when Martin steps out of the shower, wraps a towel around himself and startles to see a pair of eyes staring at him embedded in the grain of wood in the door. He freezes, because, god, this is an embarrassing way to be spotted, and he's sure those eyes weren't there when he got in the shower. He would have noticed them, right?
He blinks, and shakes his head trying to clear them from his vision, then rubs a hand across his eyes to try to force them away.]
You're not real. You can't be real. Stop watching me.
[Best to ignore them, maybe. Forget that they look like they're judging him. That they know there's something he's done that was terribly wrong.
Except it gets worse as the day goes on. The same set of eyes appearing in cracks, on doors, on walls, even peering out at him between the grains of rice he has at dinner, and Martin has to keep looking around to see if anyone else is acting as though they see anything off as well. It's not as though he can just blurt it out to just anyone, right? What if someone thinks he's lost his mind.
He can't even bring himself to finish his meal, he just stares down at the sets of eyes blinking up at him.
He slides the plate across the table as he stands, and leaves to step outside. Some fresh air, yeah, that's all he needs.
Just outside the hotel, he leans against the wall next to the door and stares up at the sky that looks back down on him, and it's almost enough to make him want to cry. He doesn't think he can take it any more, so when he hears the door open, he doesn't even look to see who it is before speaking.]
You can see them too, right? The eyes? Tell me you can see them too.
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1. speedrun five seasons of development challenge
Let's do this
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ariane yeong | signalis
Where earth's pores ought to suffice
And things have learned to walk
That ought to crawl
WAKE UP ]
//01. arrival.
//02. all-night diner.
//03. the walls have eyes. cw: mild self-harm
All Night Diner
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Darlington | Hell Bent
"Your definition of tourism seems markedly different from mine."
He thinks that's true, at least; it sounds true, even as it doesn't appear to faze the man behind the reception desk, beyond a brief blink and a smooth transition to We're so glad you chose to stay at the Staywell. Letting out a sigh, Darlington turns from the counter, adjusting the cuffs of his long, black duster coat. Like the rest of his clothes, the dark jeans and the plain buttondown shirt, the sturdy boots and grey kerchief knotted about his throat, it feels right and yet not, even if he wears it all easily. His eyes scan the room, confusion and interest intermingled in his expression. Nothing here is right, but compared to what came before...
Well, that, he's not as sure of as he wants to be.
"...continental breakfast is served from--" the concierge continues, and Darlington rolls his eyes and waves a hand. "Six to ten every day," he recites along with the other man. "You've said."
2: Something's Coming
The graveyard at the edge of town draws him, makes him ache with the urge to say something, even as he can't think of the words, even as trying to makes pain star his vision and brings a slow thread of blood trickling from one nostril. That, too, is distantly familiar in its way. Focused as he is on the things dancing just at the edge of his grasp, Darlington doesn't hear the snarl from a low outcropping nearby, doesn't catch the low, creeping blur of movement until almost the last moment.
And when the creature lunges, something else happens. It feels like reaching for something, flexing an unknown muscle, taking hold and saying come forth. His frame lengthens, shoulders broadening, claws sprouting from the tips of his fingers as gold-ridged horns curl back from his temples. His eyes blaze golden, too, and the opening of his mouth--to speak? to snarl? he can't be sure--reveals sharp-tipped canines lengthened to fangs. He meets the creature in midleap, seizing it in sudden fury and throwing it just as fast, dashing it towards the rocks it had lurked behind only moments prior. It lands with a crunch, a squeal, and then lies still. Darlington's left breathing hard, still blazing with light--eyes, horns, glints of it at throat and wrist, half-covered by his clothing.
"What the fuck." The profanity feels harsh, but warranted.
3: Walls Have Eyes
There aren't a lot of them, but there's enough. All of them make his head hurt, to one degree or another; the scarred, emerald cat's eye that regards him balefully from the knot in a tree is a dull twinge eased by a murmured forgive me as he passes, while the startled, almost rabbity blue one he sees amongst the tiles in the hotel's atrium causes a pain that wavers with the turn of his head, his guts cramping hard with the effort of his avoidance. The one he finds by his tub, its iris night-black and cold, nearly makes him flee his room again in agony even as something else half-compels him to stay.
The worst are the eyes that look like his. Not exactly, enough difference in them to make clear that they're not his own, but close enough to feel familiar. In the general store, he quails like a child from the aged, rheumy one that glares from the wall, the hazy, half-formed memory of a bed and a hand gripping his wrist rising up before sinking down again. It leaves him unmoored enough that he's unprepared for the others, pinned underneath their fear and horror, their shock as they see him and understand...but what?
"It wasn't me," he says, and doesn't know where the words are coming from. His head splits, an agony, the pain nearly blinding. "It was. It wasn't. I didn't..."
[[Just a note to say I'll match your formatting, whatever works for you!]]
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Qrow Branwen | RWBY
[Are there supposed to be crows in the desert? More importantly, are you supposed to see any inside?
Well, if they're not, this particular crow has not gotten the memo. Listen, the pie might be free, but nothing else is, and a fiscally responsible bird knows better than to owe debts to potentially sketchy people, alright.
...In other words, the bird is stealing your french fries. All's fair in lunch and war.]
ii. gotta poke 'em all
[The feeling of being watched is strange. There's a wrongness to it, like it's all backward. That's supposed to be his role, isn't it? There's an image of an eye in his mind, stylized with feathers and gears, and somehow he knows its his. He's the eyes and ears at the forefront of a war that people shouldn't know about, and not being able to conceal his movements from these eyes would be irritating enough if it didn't come with this bone-deep heaviness, of accusation -- he's a burden, a nuisance, an albatross around everyone's neck. He makes people's lives more difficult at best, the eyes allege in their silence as they stare through him moreso than at.]
Who the hell are you looking at, huh?
[he finally snaps, as a particular teal pair emerge from a wall.]
Mind your own goddamn business.
[They don't go. A fit of pique overtakes him, then, and he just reaches out and pokes them. The satisfaction of watching them melt back into the wall is short-lived, though, as several more take their place. Two sets of silver eyes, this time. Pushing them back in draw out russet brown eyes, then red eyes, like his own. Purple eyes, even.
So it is that anyone walking this particular hallway will find a man aggressively playing whack-eye-mole with a wall and swearing. Anyone that lingers too long or even perhaps decides to approach will get a particularly irritated glower--]
What do you want? I'm busy.
[Poking out possibly hallucinatory eyes in the wall, obviously. Important shit he's got going on here.]
iii. something unfortunate this way comes
[Getting attacked by a bloodthirsty monster while you're minding your own business cheerfully dancing is patently unfair, Qrow thinks. Especially when he somehow knows that fighting barehanded is not the style he's most comfortable with. There's only so much in a diner-slash-improvised nightclub one can use as a weapon, though, and for the most part he's fighting an evasive battle.
Until, that is, he trips over your foot and slams into the nearest table, knocking over both an entire pitcher of beer and a couple of the votive candles for ambiance, which of course immediately ignites the alcohol now all over the floor in a wall of fire, scaring off the chupacabras that had wandered inside.]
...Well, uh. That was ... lucky?
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1!
1.
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Glitch |Original | CRAU Deerington
[ He's not sure when he went to sleep or how he even woke up here. He's not entirely certain where he was before all of this. Had he always been here? He's not even really listening to the receptionist at this point because he's more preoccupied with what he was wearing.
What...was this get up? This weird coat with all this weird leather fringe just earned the most disgusted sneer. ]
Why the fuck did I put this on? [ He's already violently taking it off and throwing it...probably right into the face of someone just passing by. ]
______________________
Dining in
[ Free food is the best thing to hear. Even if he had a reason why how could anyone turn up something given freely? He's already at the booth with three pies of different flavours. He's not really caring about how it might look as he's shoveling down one of them into his mouth when he looks up. ]
Uh...you wanting some?
______________________
Eyes of a Maiden and a Witch
[ Why was it everywhere he went it always felt like something was following him? Something that just kept staring and moving just out of his sight. He tried to ignore it, pretending he was just imagining things, but the more he did, the worst it felt.
They began springing up now, and appearing where he couldn't look away. Silver eyes, staring at him. He couldn't tell the expression behind them, could it be terror? Anger? The look was unsettling but the tightening in his chest only made him feel that more distraught. He failed someone, something didn't turn out and any time he saw these silver eyes they only brought back painful feelings with no memory to attach to. With those feelings burbling inside, silver eyes were soon joined by black sclera, and blood red irises.
The feeling in those dark eyes were definitely easy to understand; absolute hatred.
He's sprinting through the halls of the hotel just trying to get away from the stairs, shoving things and maybe even people aside. ]
GET OUT OF MY WAY! [ He didn't care if he was being rude he just needed to get away. ]
(ooc note; for the eyes prompt it's referencing an event in another game Glitch was in involving RWBy characters Salem and Ruby)
Arrival
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dining
Dining In
Arrival
Nicholas D. Wolfwood | Trigun Maximum
Nicholas D. Wolfwood currently has a very limited number he is certain of. They are, in order of importance: his profession (a priest, of course - he even woke up dressed for it), his name (though...not what the "D." actually stands for), that something is deeply fucked up (inarguable), and that he lives in the desert. He doesn't think it was this area of desert, but he won't commit to that as a certainty. See: the depths to which things are currently fucked up.
As he walks around the town again, trying to shake anything else from his brain, he finds one more certainty. He is starving. Happily, there appears to be a place where he can fix that.
He gets two pieces of pie from the counter - one cherry and one key lime - on the pretense that one is for his friend over there in the booth. Maybe it will be! Nicholas has no idea what key lime even is, it could be terrible, but he's willing to try it.
He sits down across from whoever is sitting alone in a nearby booth with both plates and a wide smile.
"Hi!"
2. press x to doubt (outside the diner, nighttime)
FORGET YOUR WORRIES
Nicholas stands outside, looking up at the sign with distinct suspicion. Look, he may be missing his memory, but he's not stupid. If someone is telling you to forget your worries, it's because they're up to something worrisome.
That's not very forgiving of a priest, he guesses. But maybe that just means he's not a stupid priest.
Nicholas sighs. He'd been hoping, in the midst of insomnia, that he might at least get another slice of free pie. But he's definitely not going in there now. He reaches into an inside pocket and grimaces when he remembers it's empty.
"Hey, you got a cigarette?"
3. eye don't know
Nicholas stands in the middle of the hotel hallway, staring at the wall in front of him. Or, rather, staring at the pair of pale brown eyes looking out at him from it.
"Hey." He turns to whoever next approaches, and points at the eyes. "Do you see this?"
Pie
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3.
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makoto naegi // dangan ronpa
[ though he doesn’t know it, makato isn’t a stranger to turning up someplace with his memories of the past being an unreachable blur. perhaps that’s why he approaches the situation with a bigger sense of ease than he would have -
if he only knew. ]
Uh… my name? But I don’t think— [ he didn’t have a reservation here, did he? why would he have come to a place like this in the first place? the setting wasn’t something he thought he’d ever be drawn to… but a quick glance down at his western attire (white, long-sleeved shirt, brown vest, a red bandana around his neck, brown chaps and thick, pointed boots) forced him to believe that maybe he had intended to come here. not, not even maybe—he definitely had chosen to come here…
right? ]
…Makoto Naegi.
[ and lo and behold, he receives a key and his room number. maybe… maybe he didn’t know himself as well as he thought he did.
…and that was just a little concerning.
but not enough to dissuade him from giving the receptionist a half smile and turning towards the lobby. maybe finding someone to talk to would clear up the gaps (the many gaps) in his memory. he'd find a familiar face and it'd all come rushing back. yeah… he was sure of it. ]
all-night diner - daytime }
[ who could turn down free pie?
makoto had heard about the diner and its famous free pie a little after settling in. after checking out his room, he’d decided to loiter around the lobby to try to remember why he’d decided to vacation… visit…? well, whatever it was, why he'd come to such a destination as this one. there was no sense of urgency to figure it out, however; he almost felt as if it were silly that he was trying so hard to remember. obviously he’d had a purpose, and now he was here.
he doesn’t remember who he overheard say something about the pie, but it had reached his ears and not ten minutes later he was sitting in a booth (it was very comfortable, he noticed), sipping on some water while he awaiting his treat.
it doesn’t take too long for it to be brought to the table, and the second it’s placed in front of him he stops drinking abruptly.
what was he doing?
had he really thought it be okay to accept free pie without sharing?! ]
H-Hey wait! [ his words don’t reach the person who’d brought him the pie—they’d almost seemed to disappear as fast as they’d shown up. but now what did he do?
he sets the glass down and grabs his plate of pie, standing up as he does so, almost frantically looking around him. his eyes eventually catch sight of someone - maybe they’d just come in, or perhaps they’d been there the entire time. it didn’t matter; all that did matter was— ]
You, uh… do you like pie? I think it’s— [ he glances down at the treat and studies it for a moment ] —apple? Or maybe… [ he squints, but it’s hard to tell when the brown exterior is so professionally scattered with brown, probably tasty, crumbs ] …pecan? I can’t… really tell.
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Emerald Sustrai | RWBY
[this is hardly the greatest pie in the history of pie, but it's still pretty damn good, in the opinion of this one green-haired girl who at least looks enough like she belongs here to fake it. the circumstances of her arrival have been as weird as anything else, but, like, whatever, right? everyone's nice enough, and she's getting some free food out of it, so that's all probably fine.]
[actually, as she thinks about it, there's no real way to know whether this is or is not the greatest pie in the history of pie. she knows nothing of the history of pie. maybe the person she slides in next to will know.]
Hey. Do you know much about pie? I get the feeling I've had better than this, but, like, who knows. [she rests her plate and a brown bottle of sarsaparilla on the table.] Is it the same here every night?
b. but at least they were mine to make [eyes]
[they're silver.]
[that's the first thing she notices when she starts seeing them all around her. and she doesn't know what that means, but she knows that being stared down by these silver eyes is starting to give her a headache. a headache and a horrible sinking feeling in her gut, as though she needs more of that. she's walking through the streets when one of the silver eyes catches hers through a gap in the wood, then another, then another, and they just multiply and multiply and it gets harder and harder to understand what's happening but it's only making her head hurt worse.]
[she ducks off around a corner and backs against the wall of one of the more intact buildings, and she sees her own red eyes staring back at her from a broken reflection, and in an instant—before she can even realize that her nose is bleeding, the red flashes to more silver. more and more, surrounding her, coming from every angle. she sinks to the ground and slams her own eyes shut, and with both hands on her head she screams out,]
Enough! [like it's a plea. like someone will listen.] That's enough. I see you. I see you. Just... tell me what you want.
[she's not expecting a reply. maybe someone can surprise her.]
a
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b
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B
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Athena | Original Character
Shh. Don't use that name.
[A tall, slender stranger with their hair piled high into a messy bun and a ridiculously colored sweater that stood in stark contrast to the dusty denim and the neon colored crocs leaned in over the counter and held a finger to their lips with a smile. The poor receptionist didn't even blink as the stranger rambled on-- heedless for the moment of the limited scripts that all of the workers operated on and game for one goal and one goal only:
Find a cup of coffee.]
The name's Athena.
[They said, with a bright smile.]
I don't know much, but I'm pretty sure about this.
Now. Where did you say the coffee was again?
[The receptionist was a no-sell, and dropped the keys in Athena's hand with a crisp 'Your room number is 420.'
To this, Athena snorted.]
Gee. You're no fun!
Chupacabra
[--This was certainly unpleasant. Athena had only dipped out of the diner after an evening of dancing hard for a bit of fresh air when the creature dropped down on them from above, latching onto their shoulder with unfortunately large teeth and a not inconsiderable amount of pain. Athena, all arms and legs with minimal muscle, grunted and flailed for a few futile moments to extract the creature and send it flying-- but they couldn't fight against the strong jaws of the creature from that angle.
The creature, at least, was content to just gnaw on Athena. No more, no less. With their vision starting to swim from the effort and the strain, Athena grabbed the nearest table cloth from an outside setting, wrapped it around their body, and ducked inside to grab the nearest helpful looking person.]
Uh. You look like you're stronger than me. Can I get your help really quick?
[The voice they spoke in was uncomfortably deadpan for the obvious problem of a creature plainly chewing on them, and the uncomfortably large stain that was bleeding through the cloth.]
arrival
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goat-sucker
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John Gaius | The Locked Tomb | will keep canon for next TDM
graveyard smash
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graveyard
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graveyard
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diner
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Two;
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Three
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