Test Drive Meme #2 - Overflow

[changelinged]

TDM #2 OVERFLOW

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TDM #2 - March/April 2025

🦋 Introduction

Welcome to the Pixie Led Test Drive Meme!

The prompts will always be game canon, provided both characters who participate in a thread are either already in the game, or get accepted in the next application round.

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Please indicate character name and canon in the subject line of your top-level. For current characters, you may also indicate your character's court.

For prospective players, Invites open on the 18th, Reserves on the 20th, and Applications on the 22nd. Thanks for checking us out and we hope you'll join us!

🦋 The Party

You wake up at a party.

You're not sure how, exactly, you got here. You may have just been walking in the woods or at a meeting for work or doing any other normal activity for you. But you know you weren't supposed to be at this party, you're fairly certain.

Anyone you ask about it will say the party is for you. You and the others also waking up and looking confused. Further questions will lead to the partygoers insisting you have something to eat. You're starving and others are eating the food without repercussion, so you figure there's no harm in a bite. You finish your portion.

It's a garden party at the crack of dawn, with the sun still in its early stages of climbing through the yonder, casting a good mix of pastel hues of blue, pink, and beige on everything. Heralding the first day of spring, the Ruler of the Spring Court has found it fitting to arrange this gathering where guests can feel the blades of grass touching their ankles, as well as the rich soil beneath their feet. Flowers of all kinds surround the party as if they were carefully curated. With spring as the "dawn of seasons," which marks a transition from winter's latency to the resurgence of life everywhere, the Ruler of the Dawn Court has also seen it fit to host aspects of this party during the one time of the year that dawn occurs the whole day. Tall candles and torches grace the outskirts of the garden party, providing warmth and an orange glow everywhere. Not one flame goes out even with the occasional wind, the Duchess always makes sure of this.

There are also freshly picked blossoms and branches with leaves on every table accenting the festive spread of food and drinks. This time, a lot of the food prepared for the Adopted guests are familiar to them with a little bit of a twist. Burgers might come in small packages and in toothpicks, while hotdogs in buns are also diminutive. Cookies look delectable but they have a flowery flavor to them, as if eating freshly picked daisies or daffodils. Fruits that may have been present in an Adopted's home, such as pineapples and watermelons, have seeds in odd places. Picking this selection of food is an attempt to be more welcoming and to appease the lovely guests the fae have invited.

As the party winds down and everyone's eaten, a tall, stately woman stands up and speaks. You feel her voice more than hear it.

I am the Lawspeaker of the Fae, elected by Seelie and Unseelie alike, and you are all, now, subjects of Faerie. You cannot leave this realm once you have eaten our food, and even if you could, there is no saying how much time has passed back where you're from. Your loved ones are likely dead, your problems have likely played out. We require assistance in various matters, and each of you has been chosen for your talent and skill. You will be adopted by one of the Seelie or Unseelie Courts based on your strengths and personality. Your Court will decide what to do with you from there.

As suddenly as she stood, she sits back down.

🦋 Chance at a Dance

A party is not complete without dancing, of course, and while during the last gathering held for the Adopted, different fae danced to music exclusively for them around a glowing tree, this time they are insisting their guests to join in.

This is a party for you, after all.

If the prodding of the different fae hosts won't convince you, perhaps the music will. They play easily recognizable tunes that their wonderful guests must have heard before. These melodies have certain unique effects to their mortal attendees, which are as follows:

• Upbeat Music: You will believe that you and your dance partner have been friends forever and have known each other a long time.
• Romantic Music: You will become amorous and flirtatious towards your dance partner.
• Slow Music: You will develop some tension with your dance partner. It may be negative or sexual; completely up to you.
• Quiet Music: You will assume your dance partner is a threat and try to fight them.

🦋 Flower Power

At the Spring King's behest, every Adopted should wear a flower corsage or boutonnière to the gathering. After all, this is to celebrate the coming of spring and what better way to do that than to honor everything in bloom.

The thing is, though, the King of Spring, while amorous and friendly, also has a penchant for playing with mortals' memories, if not also affect their desires and despairs.

So, mischievous as he is, he made sure to enchant the different flowers present in every corsage and boutonnière for the party with the effects below:

• Rose: You will recall a horrific trauma
• Carnation: You will see a vision of your future, whether it's good or bad
• Orchid: You will remember a time you lost someone
• Chrysanthemum: You will believe someone among the Adopted is your soulmate
• Dahlia: You will believe you betrayed someone important to you, whether you actually did or not

It is perhaps a good thing that no one but the Adopted are allowed to see these visions and memories, but everyone who wears a corsage or boutonnière will be able to see each other's memories and visions when in close enough physical proximity to the vision-haver, for better or for worse.

🦋 GEIS

You feel a vibration in your pocket sometime after the Lawspeaker addresses everyone. When you search for the source, you will pull out your Leaf, the device the Fae use to stay in touch with each other. Anyone who's used a smart phone will easily recognize how it works.

Greetings, Adopted. This is your Lawspeaker.

Tell us all of a time you gave someone a gift. Perhaps a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates. Was it appreciated or not? A reward might await the most meaningful gift given.

ｎａｖｉｇａｔｉｏｎ

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Comments

Logan Howlett | XMCU

[logansmiddleclaw]

THE PARTY

One moment his hands were clutching the armrests on the plane, while he grumbled about turbulence and the next, he’s waking up face down on damp grass. He staggers to his feet, as his head whips around. He’s looking – searching – but he’s not sure for what. For a moment he believes this has to be some sort of dream. A very vivid and odd dream.

Because he can feel. He can smell. He can see. He feels the soft soil and the tickle of the grass on his bare feet, and the smell of flowers overpower his senses, causing him to give a slight shake of his head. And what he sees leaves him even more confused – if that was possible. There’s people around him, and they all seem to be enjoying the festivities – imbibing and chattering amongst themselves. But some of them look off. Their eyes weren’t human. But only just slightly.

Each step he takes is calculated, as if waiting for something to spring up beneath him; waiting for this oddly calm dream to morph into the horrors of his past. Any second now, the ground will open up and he will be thrashing in that vat of ice cold water as he burns from the inside out. But nothing of the sort happens

Before he knows it, he’s approached one of the tables, and he realizes then how famished he is. By the time he consumes some food, he feels a voice within him and all around him. A tall woman stands at the front of the garden and speaks, but he’s not hearing it physically. This definitely has to be a dream.

He can’t lose everyone. He can’t lose them before seeing them again. He had been so caught up in his own pain — in his own misery – that he abandoned everyone that he called family. Because he figured they were better off without him.

Your loved ones are likely dead, your problems have likely played out.

Yukio, Charles… Mariko? Everyone else. They were gone. They were gone, and he couldn't do a damn thing.

His fingers tighten around the glass in his glass, hard enough to send a crack through it. “What does she mean we can’t leave this realm? Where am I? What is this place?”

CHANCE AT A DANCE

“All they need is to pass a peace pipe ‘round.” Logan murmurs to himself, watching the folks around him dancing near a glowing tree with narrowed eyes. He knows he should be more wary, more aggressive, but if they had wanted to hurt him, they would have done so already.

Different music plays, and for the most part he tries to ignore it. But it sounds so familiar and somehow it settles his unease. If only just a little bit.

His arms cross over his chest, and his eyes close, a slow and deep breath leaving his nose as the melody of a song he once heard over his old crank up radio floods his ears.



FLOWER POWER

The smell of flowers surrounds him. It was almost overwhelming, but so was everything else in this bizarro world he was stuck in. His fingers trace his wrist, feeling the corsage that was given to him. With a scowl, he mutters, “As if it were the fuckin’ prom.”

Between his thumb and forefinger, he holds a petal of an orchid. His hazel eyes shift forward, and he feels the wind knocked from him as a vivid memory begins to unreel in his mind.

He’s carrying a woman in his arms. Her breathing is slow and labored, almost in sync with her heartbeat. The smell of her blood fills his nostrils and he knows he needs to get her somewhere safe.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here.’

The memory shifts once more, but it feels like he’s lost time within it. Crucial time.

The woman is on the floor, her eyes lifeless; the once slow heartbeat gone completely.

‘Do you know her?’

‘No.’

With a delicate touch, he closes her eyes.

The memory begins to fade and Logan is left standing there, a single petal still caught between his fingers. His hazel eyes glaze over as he mutters a single word. “Kayla…”


GEIS UN: logan

Does that reward include me getting the fuck out of here?

...
dont really give gifts. I aint one for buying things because most of the time people dont want that shit. I guess my gift to people is knowledge and protection. If i care about someone, i’ll do anything to keep them safe.

[ Feel free to choose any type of song for the dance prompt. Also open to wildcards.]

un: rogue

[mississippis]

If that is the reward you’re gonna share, right?

[logansmiddleclaw]

course kid. first thing we're gonna do once we're out of this bizarro world, is grab a couple of bottles of whisky.

[mississippis]

Good news is that this seems like the sort of place that might have a whisky replacement until then.

[logansmiddleclaw]

probably but it's no johnny walker...so have you talked to anyone else we know?

[ Because maybe there was hope that not everyone had disappeared as he feared. That maybe he would still be able to see those who had initially welcomed him at the school. ]

un: therealMcCoy

[bestials]

Logan?

[ Sure, there are chances that it's somebody else named Logan. But with Charles and Erik already here, and so many other mutants from the future, Hank can only assume (or hope?) that it's the same Logan he knows. And besides, the whole message about doing anything he can to protect the people he cares about tracks with what Hank knows about him. ]

It's me, Hank.

This is crazy, huh?

[logansmiddleclaw]

Hank? as in beast?

[ Well there wasn't any other Hank he knew, but the small icon that resided next to the text made his eyebrows furrow. It was a young man. That's all the picture was. It wasn't the blue mutant he'd gotten to know, who was always dressed in a suit or a lab coat.]

do they have a fountain of youth here i aint aware of?

[bestials]

[ Great, not this again. ]

I had a feeling this might happen.

When they take us, they take us from different points in time. What year was it, for you? It was 1973 for me, for reference.

Tʜᴇ Pᴀʀᴛʏ

[valle]

It's the smell that reaches her first. It's the same, but it's different. Metal, the same metal that's in her hands, in her feet. Leather. Skin. Everything but the sickness, everything but the dying — the same as she'd picked up sticking to Hank's clothing when he first arrived.

She follows it, because of course she follows it.

When she finds the source, she stands stone still at the very edge of everything. The outskirts of his vision, a dozen or more yards away from the table he's seated at, staring in. Watching, expressionless and unmoving, her face blank on the outside but something churning and uncertain tossing back and forth inside like boiling water.

The last time she saw him, he was dying on the ground in front of her.

No- the last time she saw him, they were lowering him into the dirt and her friends were helping her cover him, and then they stacked stones, and someone made a cross. The last time she saw him, he was a mound in the earth. The memory is fresh, because the flowers here made her rewatch it.

He's younger here, the way Charles is younger. Is this happening because of what she asked Erik? Is this her fault? Is this- bad? Or good? Or anything at all?

At some point, her legs decide to move — they carry her a dozen steps forward before she realizes it, and then she locks them in place again, but it's a little too late now to pretend like her trajectory had been anywhere but him.

So the long and short of it is: a child walks up to stand some five or six feet from Logan, to stare at him silently, like a weird little creeper.

Re: Tʜᴇ Pᴀʀᴛʏ

[logansmiddleclaw]

The moment he feels someones eyes on him, his shoulders tense but he keeps his gaze forward, his jaw clenching slightly. They're tracking his movements and he can feel the scrutiny. Perhaps he'd let down his guard down too fast, and maybe what seemed like a relatively safe environment, albeit batshit circumstances, was a trap. Because it had to be right? After all he was a mutant and the Wolverine, magnet for trouble and pain.

His fingers twitch at his sides, and a movement a couple of yards away catches his attention. With a fisted hand, he can feel his claws begin to itch under his skin, so close to breaking the delicate surface.

But the moment his head turns to the source of the movement and intense stare, he's not met with those elf looking humanoids, nor anyone else he could have known. No — it's a young girl staring at him.

The tension melts if only just a little, but something about the girl is unnerving to him. There's something about her — her scent, the look in her eyes — that nags at him. It's familiar in an unfamiliar way. No, he doesn't know her, but there's something. And why could he smell adamantium?

"Hey kid, or should I say child of the corn? You tryin' to burn a hole through my head?" He takes a couple of steps towards her, his expression wary as his eyes sweep over her face and her stance.

[valle]

She doesn't step back when he moves closer; doesn't seem skittish. If he were a stranger, most likely she'd be wary at the approach, tense, defensive, ready to lash out — but not him. She isn't afraid of him; at least, she isn't afraid he's going to try to physically hurt her. The fear she has surrounding Logan is something more difficult to articulate, more complicated, harder for her to fully understand even herself at her current age. It's a fear of the heart.

He's the same. Mean, bad attitude, starting things off with an insult — though, it's one she doesn't fully understand, and it slides right off of her. She isn't bothered or offended, maybe there's even something a little nostalgic to be found in it, this familiarity. The ways in which it hurts are in pangs of grief rather than affront.

When Charles had showed up here, she'd thought maybe it could be possible. That Logan might follow eventually, too. Only now that she's seeing him does she realize she'd pretty much considered the idea an impossible fantasy, and she's not quite sure what to do with the reality now that it's staring her in the face.

He died for her. He's alive. She's a stranger to him again. He's her father. It's complicated.

This time, she doesn't plan to make him travel two thousand miles in silence. She regrets the wasted time.

After a long, pregnant pause, her voice cuts quietly through with a lilting, rolling accent, "They tricked you."

un: pyro

[firings]

i knew they're gonna drag you here, too

[logansmiddleclaw]

yeah you were always a smartass werent you. so if you're here, does that mean ice block is too?

[firings]

no :)

he's back in the freezer

text | un: nightcrawler

[bamfed]

mein freund, that is an excellent gift, no less valuable for it being intangible. moreso in some ways, i would say!

[logansmiddleclaw]

they got you too then elf? but of course only you would say something like that. what'd you answer for yours? prayers?

The Party

[notsogroovy]

Raven didn't jump when the glass shattered, though she did raise an eyebrow when it didn't seem to bother the man. "You know as much as I do," she answered, her tone drier than dust. "I've been assured a few times by people I know and trust that this is real.

She turned to more properly look at the man and a frown flashed on her face as some sense of recognition tugged at her.

"I know you," she said under her breath. He wasn't one of her mutants. The ones she'd rescued from bad situations over the years. She did her research in every case. She knew their faces even if she didn't leave an impression long enough for them to know hers with such familiarity.

"Raven," she said. "I'd offer my hand, but you should clean that up," she said, nodding at his hand.

[logansmiddleclaw]

At the sound of a woman's voice, Logan turns his eyes upon her, taking in her features as if trying to recognize her. But trying to recognize Mystique by looks alone, was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. However, her scent was another story. As much as she could camouflage her outward appearance, he would always be able to sniff her out.

His shoulders tense when he recognizes her, however the way she's speaking to him is off. As if she barely knows him. And then she introduces herself by her given name, rather than by her alias. Another odd thing in the brief interaction.

With a clenched jaw, he tosses the cracked glass to the side, not bothering to even see where it lands. He doesn't care. "Raven? Funny, I remember you as Mystique." He rumbles, as his eyes narrow, completely focused on her -- almost as if waiting for her to attack or trick him somehow.

[notsogroovy]

"Everyone knows me as Mystique," she said wearily, though she also narrowed her eyes. "But most don't know that Mystique is also Raven." It was one of the reasons she hadn't kept her natural form for the last decade. Everyone, mutants and humans alike, knew what she looked like. And she didn't want to be some kind of poster child for the mutant race. She had literally seen herself on posters.

And then she sighed. "What did he tell you about me?" It could only have been one of two men. Charles or Erik. And what either of the men would tell someone would depend entirely on how charitable they were feeling at the moment.

Judging by the tightness in the man's face - and she was still certain she knew him from somewhere - whatever it was he'd been told had clearly come when one of the two men had been in a bad mood.

party

[heavymetals]

To say that Erik could see him from across the room wouldn't been entirely accurate. In fact, Erik could sense him from across the room. It was just similar enough that for a moment it was Laura, but it was different. It felt like more than the adamantium she carries. A quick sweep of the floor answered that question for him.

He crossed the distance, slow and cautious but not concerned. He didn't really know if Logan would recognize him, if he had the memories of going back in time, or if Erik would be a virtual stranger to him. Logan was frowning, deep in thought and no doubt struggling with the situation (both unsurprising and understandable), so he made sure not encroach too much in his personal space.

"Logan."

Something's different about you, he almost joked, but didn't. Because this is no surprise to him now, having met Laura, having heard everything she'd told him about her father. Her father. He pushed down the unpleasant lump in his throat and pressed on, watching for any sign of recognition.

"Do you know me, or do I have to introduce myself?"

[logansmiddleclaw]

There's a feeling he's being watched, but then again, him being in this unknown place meant someone was watching him. But no, this felt like someone was closer. And it felt familiar in a way that made his bones hum uncomfortably.

Before he could zero in on the person, a man approaches him. There's an eerie feeling of recognition that passes through Logan as the man utters his name. Immediately his body tenses, his fists clenching at his sides as he allows his gaze to sweep over the man.

He knows who it is. He had just been inside a plane with him. A much older version of him. Whether this was an illusion of wherever he was, or even a hallucination, his nose didn't lie.

"Magneto." He says the man's moniker through gritted teeth. He doesn't trust him yet. Even if a resurrected Charles Xavier trusts him. Trusted him. Or was it would trust him? He then remembers the brief conversation with Beast, letting him know that mutants were being pulled from different points in time. But that doesn't stop his tongue from forming the acerbic response. Nor, does that conversation actually prepare him with seeing a younger version of man who had opposed the X-Men every step of the way since he had known of them.

"Drinkin' from the fountain of youth or do they got some sort of magnetic botox now?"

[heavymetals]

All things considered, it is a comfort to be met with this kind of reaction. Not that he and Logan really interacted much, during their mission to stop Trask, but there was certainly enough for a level of dislike there, and it was clear to him then that Logan had no love lost for him. The complete lack of trust is expected, even welcome in a way.

"Erik, if it's all the same to you." Not that he rejects his mutant name, but he's at a point in his life where he's trying to distance himself from what it means, the weight it carries. He's not an entirely different man now, but he has changed. For the better, he hopes.

"Not quite," his lips twitch, and he can only think that with that question, no one's explained this particular detail to Logan yet. "We haven't all been brought here from the same point in time. I'm from 1992. You remember me older, so— I'm going to guess some decades ahead."

party

[umas_second]

"Fairyland. They've trapped us here wi' magic. No' sure if we can get home, but if we find a migicker, I'd say there's a fightin chance."

Maybe. What one magic maker could create, another could potentially destroy. The real question was whether there was someone powerful enough to oppose their hosts. Or maybe if they could find a bunch of people who did magic, the group could overpower them. It wasn't impossible, it just seemed unlikely. And Harry wasn't in the biggest hurry to leave the feast.

[logansmiddleclaw]

His eyes snap to the source of the voice before narrowing. First of all, he didn't know this person. Not by sight and not by smell, so he wasn't once of those zapped here from a different point in time. Secondly -- Magic? Yes he was a mutant with uncharted healing and metal claws that could protrude from his knuckles, but that was science. X- Gene. Humans evolving.

But then again, that was the only explanation for this place, and that one weird looking woman's speech. Besides, how far away was magic to the things a few of his friends and people he knew could do?

"Magic? Kid, the closest thing to magic I've seen is a few queens doin' some card tricks in Vegas. But I 'spose there ain't 'nother way of explanin' this." He briefly gestures to the garden party. "You ain't a mutant are you?"

[umas_second]

"Ye know multiple queens too? Most people don't even seen tae know one." There were times when Harry couldn't help being too literal. A hell of a lot of people in Auradon seemed to be royal, and Mal was a queen now too. And there was Belle. She'd been a queen. Harry didn't know her well, but he had spoken to her. Once. Other people he'd met in the city didn't seem to have the same overabundance of royals though.

Harry grinned at the man and patted the sword and hook hung at his hip, "Pirate mate. Guessin yer one yerself? Wha is it ye can do then?" If the man wasn't a mutant, he clearly knew about them. It was a reasonable question. Harry had met a couple in the city and they were seriously cool! And hot.