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pixieledmemes2025-05-16 12:28 am
Test Drive Meme #3
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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 another garden party near a large hedge maze in the middle of the night. With his penchant for games the Ruler of the Spring Court decided it would be nice to hold an actual game for all the Adopted present. None of that dreidel game a couple of parties ago. This time, he wants more spectacle with higher stakes. Forced to participate and host aspects of this gathering as well, the Ruler of the Dark Court wanted nothing to do with this, so he figured his participation in itself is for the party to happen at night, during his rule, when his mood is at its most pleasant.
Of course, there is no shortage of light sources such as candles and torches, much to the Earl's chagrin, as well as no shortage of food. This time, the fae decided to try their hand on some pasta. They heard it's a good delicacy from the mortal plane. Thing is, sauces look and smell bizarre. One's purple, while another's bright pink, and they taste fruity, as well as flowery, much like the cookies from the last gathering.
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.
So, what about this hedge maze that seems to have appeared out of nowhere and looming quite eerily beside this night's gathering? For one, peculiar noises can be heard whenever one's near its entrance. From the rustling of leaves to a woman crying, everything seems to be coming from inside.
Of course, the Adopted's participation is required and paramount. Anyone who refuses will be met with harsh penalties and consequences, whatever those may be. They also hint of a prize to anyone who comes out victorious on the other side. It's unclear what it is, though.
The fae know that while the Adopted have been very useful so far, they are also vulnerable and susceptible to fear, so to mitigate that, they have some colorful shots on a table marked LIQUID COURAGE near the entrance to the maze with such effects:
- Gold: Essentially a strong drink that gives you profound energy for 24 hours.
- Red: Downing this will make you feel warm like an aphrodisiac.
- Blue: Basically functions like a normal tequila shot. Or three. Comes with a little bag of salt.
These shots are not compulsory for the Adopted to take, but they will be highly encouraged to do so before entering. Once inside, the rustling of leaves and the sounds of someone crying become louder and even more evident. There are also a few key things that seem to be very clear the longer an Adopted is within the maze's walls:
- The maze is moving. How it's doing it, nobody knows. But it appears to be alive somehow, much like the castle grounds, so finding a clear pathway is almost impossible.
- Whenever an Adopted turns right two consecutive times, they will see a more positive outcome from a terrible event in their lives. Lost someone? They're now here and alive. Gave up on a dream? You find yourself currently living it.
- If an Adopted turns left two consecutive times, they will see someone, a family member or a friend who's still alive and had a deep impact on their lives, bleeding and dead on the ground.
It would be great if no one else can see an Adopted during their most vulnerable, but since the maze moves constantly, another Adopted or two might be able to see them trying to parse out what they're seeing, even if their fellow Adopted can't see it themselves.
CW: dismemberment, body horror, forced body transformations, mild gore, asphyxiation, drowning of children, death
The Spring King only wanted some good-natured fun within the maze, but unbeknownst to him, some Unseelie creatures and Unseelie magic have appeared inside, threatening the safety of the Adopted traversing every nook and cranny. Surely this will not have any lasting consequences between the relationship of the Seelie and Unseelie court rulers. Not at all.
A few of these Unseelie beings and Unseelie magic roaming around the hedge maze that the Adopted will have a chance to meet are as follows:
- Manananggal: Capable of severing its torso from its legs, this vampiric creature usually preys on sleeping pregnant women and unborn babies. But not anymore. Due to magic put on it, this manananggal will strike anyone it comes across. Better pour salt on its severed lower torso once you find it, or else.
- La Llorona: Remember that woman crying? Well, somewhere in the maze alongside the eerie sounds of water flowing, you'll come across a weeping woman cloaked in white with her back turned against you. Be careful not to approach her because once you do, she'll try to choke you to death, reminiscent of how she drowned her own children.
- Jersey Devil: The first thing you'll hear once you turn is a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream then the sound of bat wings flapping. You better run as fast as you can to the other direction because this devil is out to attack anyone it sees on its path.
- A fountain: How odd. Running from the jersey devil or the manananggal might have made you thirsty so perhaps there's no harm in drinking from it. But just coming in contact with its water will make any Adopted soon realize they have transformed into an Unseelie creature.
Fighting off these creatures might be best with a fellow Adopted. After all, there's power in numbers. Just be careful not to die within the hedge maze. There might be some dire consequences.
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.
To be on theme with our festivities for tonight, we want to know a time in your life when you felt lost and wandering about. Perhaps the most compelling story will receive a reward from us.
party!
"You don't have to pay for them," she tells the girl. "There's no money here- everything is bartered or traded." And Nancy had been taking advantage of that, with regular trips to the market to indulge. She had stories and songs to share, some cool rocks, and that made her rich for once in her life. While her clothing still erred on the simple side, her dress was a beautiful dark rose, with flowers pooling at the hem.
"Take whatever you'd like." Because clearly this girl needed the same permission Nancy herself had been given. "Just don't eat too much and make yourself sick. That's no way to start out here."
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“Fucking bitch,” she mutters, cross to be caught. As soon as Nancy lets go, Eponine she hugs her arms to her body. She glances at the other girl, noting her pretty hair and rosy cheeks with jealousy that makes itself known in her pursed lips. And then she looks away and down.
“I don’t have nothing, Miss. I don’t have nothing to trade.”
But the girl’s inviting her to eat and dressed as she is, Eponine just assumes that she has authority here. She takes a plate and scoops on goodness knows what and immediately begins to eat with her spare hand.
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"Well, you don't need anything right now. This is all free for us to eat and drink. It's a party, for us." Well, more so for the new ones that are arriving, just as she had last month.
"But outside of here, if you know a story or a song, or can find a pretty flower, then you have plenty to trade. I would know." She gives her a conspiratorial glance. "I came here in rags, too."
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Eponine shakes her head, speaking through a mouth full of pasta. She has no idea what she's eating and she really doesn't care either.
"Nothing is for free. Nothing is ever free. So what is the price truly? Even if it is steep, I should rather know now than later. But - but a party?"
Eponine looks around again. Is this what a party looks like? She had expected ball gowns and music, orchestras and delicate finger foods. Perhaps champagne, or fancy wine.
"For us? Me? But - but -"
Why would anyone throw her a party? Unless it's a trick. Or a dream? Perhaps it's a dream then, and she'll awake to the reality of losing her family. Eponine makes up her mind to indulge in it for as long as possible then.
"How are you to come in rags? You look - you do not look - well."
She glances down at her skirt once more, and shifts her weight so her leg is hidden from the long rent in the front.
"I were rich once upon a time, you know? I weren't always... I could have been as pretty as you are, you know?"
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"There is a lot about the customs here I do not understand. Some say that we are kept like pets, and I'd say we are the pampered kittens of pets." When it is indicated, she looks at Eponine, the poor girl is skin and bones, in worse shape than Nancy had ever been, even during the scantest of winters.
"I got new clothes here. Ones that make me feel like I'm a posh lady." She pauses. This woman has called her pretty, but it strikes her different from the way others do it. There's something to it. She reaches down to take one of Eponine's hands.
"Hush! You're plenty beautiful- we've just got to comb out the tangles in your hair, get you something more t'eat-- Tell you what- bring your plate, we can go back to my dormitory. You're about my size, I can let you borrow a dress or two? Start you off on the right food, what d'you say?" She smiles encouragingly.
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Eponine really wants to believe this girl that everything is free, or can be bartered for a song or a flower. But nothing is so easy and simple, surely. And then the girl calls Eponine beautiful, and Eponiine knows that she's lying. Understanding twists Eponine's lips to a self loathing grimace. The girl is making a mockery of her.
Montparnasse has before. He let her dress in the clothes of the women he killed. He let her think she could keep them, until he laughed at her and called her names and made her take them back off.
The girl's doing that too.
Eponine goes to shake her head, but she remembers the soft fabrics. She remembers how the corsets had pushed her breasts up and given her cleavage. She remembers how they had felt like a hug. Like she wasn't alone. And she remembers feeling pretty, for that split second before he'd laughed, she felt pretty.
So even though Eponine knows that Nancy is going to laugh at her and humiliate her, she nods.
"I'd like that, Miss."
After all, a short memory of something nice is better than nothing at all.
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"Then follow me- it's not a far walk, just a few minutes, and we'll let you pick out any you'd like. There should be time, too, if you'd like, for a bath- or perhaps a shower? It's a lot like standing in a warm rain." It had terrified her, at first, until she realized how wonderful a shower was. She still liked her baths, of course, being able to lounge in hot water now for hours without anyone yelling at her.
"And we'll brush your hair, give you a bit of rouge- oh you'll be the prettiest girl at the party, I'm sure of it!" She giggles a little. "What is your name, miss? I'm Nancy, Nancy Sikes. From England."
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Oh, a bath. What Eponine would give for a bath with pretty soaps and smells. Eponine has, of course, bathed in her destitution, but it's a whore's bath with a bit of rag in cleanish water from the well or the Seine, or if she is lucky, a gentleman's found her to be intolerably dirty and made her wash before their encounter.
"Oh, Miss. Please may I have a bath? With soap? I swear, I'll pay it back. I have - well, I have some trinkets you might like?"
From her pickpocketing.
"I'm 'Ponine. Eponine Jondrette. From Paris. Do you really think I'll be pretty, Miss Nancy?"
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"Ponine. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl from a beautiful city, or so I've heard- I've always wanted to travel to Paris. You will have to tell me all about it, 'Ponine- oh, no, no need for miss, you can just call me Nancy. And I think you will be very beautiful. Your hair is such a pretty shade!" she reaches out to gently touch a tangled lock.
"Just a bit further, and we'll have you dressed and back to the party in no time!"
CW: underage sex reference, murder reference
"Paris is a beast of cut throats and thieves, Miss Nancy. Of girls whoring before they can truly call 'em a woman, of magic when a beggar man with one leg suddenly grows his second to chase you. We starve and we hurt and we hunt one another. You say you had rags, Miss, so the pretty Paris ain't for you. You might have a room more than me there, but make no mistake, to her underbelly you would go."
But still Eponine follows along. "Only a quick bath, Miss? And la - a dress? And shoes? Please, do you have a shoe that'd fit me?"
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She listens to the way she describes Paris, and truthfully, to Nancy, it sounds like home. "Perhaps Paris is no different from London after all," she says with a frown. This girl is right, she wouldn't be in the fancy, pretty Paris. She'd be right back where she was, just couldn't speak the language.
"Well we don't want to miss the party, do we? Shoes shouldn't be too much of a trouble. You got small feet?" She looks down at Eponine's feet as they cross the threshold into the Dawn Court rooms.
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She shrugs awkwardly, before looking up in awe at her surroundings.
"It reminds me of a church, you know? A place I ought not to be really." But she wants a bath and a dress and shoes so she carries on with a hurry after Nancy.
"Yes, my feet are small. I used to wear my Pa's boots sometimes, but there is no bottom and they are so big that they make it hard to run. I hate them, truly. I'd have slung 'em in the Seine for all the good they were, but he shoulda slung me after, so I thought, no. Stay dry today, 'Ponine, or you shall wake a statue in the morning."
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She looks around at the castle and smiles, "It does, doesn't it! Just wait till you see the library, then. That'll really feel like a church for you. Feels like that for me, too."
They step up towards Nancy's door, where one of the two plaques bears her name, the other the name of her roommate.
"Well then. This is it! You'll be able to decorate your room however you please, too" She gestures. She's got quite the little set-up starting, with thick comforters and pillows, a stack of books by her bed. She hasn't been here long, but long enough to start settling. "The bathroom is right through this door," she gestures, "and I'll get a bath running for you. There's plenty of soaps and shampoos to choose from, use any of 'em- there's even a conditioning balm that takes out knots! You'll have to use that one, it'll make combing your hair easy as all that. Then when you're done with that, we'll get you dressed. What do you say?" Cheerfully, she looks at Eponine. It's like having her own real life doll!
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"My Mama had books when we were little. Just cheap ones, you know? With romances. That's where she got my name and my sister, Azelma. Oh, I'd like a book, you know? Just to look at. I can read."
It feels important to tell Nancy that. "Are we allowed? To look, I mean?"
But Nancy is showing Eponine into her bedroom. She looks around in absolute awe: a bed. Blankets, pillows - dozens of them - and things. Books. Soaps. Shampoo - though Eponine doesn't recognise the word.
"I..."
There's a hint of fear in Eponine's eyes. She hesitates, still stood in the doorway.
"I told you I can't pay you, Miss? Nancy. I told you, yes? You can't get me in trouble after for taking things. You swear?"
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Nancy's about to move into the bathroom to get the tub started, when she realizes Eponine is still standing in the doorway. She frowns, and takes a few small steps towards her new friend.
"I swear to you, Eponine, I ain't going to get you in trouble. Honor amongst thieves, yeah? Girls like us, we stick together. The things we've had to do back home? We don't got to do a single one here. I promise." She holds a hand out for Eponine to take, to step across the threshold.
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That doesn't make sense to Eponine. Actually, it feels pretty overwhelming. Not just the books, but unlimited food and dresses and pretty things? She can have anything - everything - she's ever wanted and not have to lift a finger?
She looks at Nancy's hand and back to her face, distrust clear on Eponine's.
But after a small hesitation, she takes it and steps inside.
"We can be... we don't have to do nothing?."
Slowly, Eponine begins to smile. "Oh, Nancy, if this is a dream, don't wake me up. I don't want to know. It's the nicest place I've ever been."
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She nods encouragingly, glad Eponine has taken a step into her room. "Nothing at all, save maybe a story or a favor. This is a world without money. Where if we want to trade favors that way, we can. But only because we want to. And Eponine, I haven't." For the first time in years, she hadn't had to sell herself. She could just exist. Yes, it was dangerous out there as it was anywhere, but just removing money from the equation did wonders.
"Just wait till I take you to the market and we get you your own dresses." She's already assigned herself to look after Eponine. Of all the people she'd met so far, she was by far the person she thought she'd have the most in common with.
CW: DV, prostitution, derogatory language
Eponine's hands have surreptitiously gone to her scarred bottom. She has felt the sting of leather too many times to count, and heard so many scoldings that she's telling the truth. Another won't make a blind bit of difference to her.
She licks her lips though. She's not stupid. Nancy is implying that she was a prostitute at home. She supposes Eponine was too. Eponine's first instinct was to protest that she wasn't a prostitute. She never whored herself out on street corners or in the park or down by the docks. But her father had sold her, and Azelma. All those begging letters.
Her lips twitch. Her expression softens to sadness and vulnerability with just that little spasm. But then her mask comes back: Eponine blinks and her eyes are that dull, almost dead colour. Her expression stiffens and she tosses her matted hair back.
"I don't care anyway," she tries to say proudly. "It is something to trade, and what does it matter? It's only a hole, innit? It's useless so I may as well make money off it."
The harsh words don't sound like Eponine. Clearly, they've been drummed into her, repeated so often it's become a mantra to her, so much so that she almost believes it. She just wishes she didn't.
"But now you're not?" Hope is a dangerous thing. Eponine tries not to hope. Not when it never comes through. But now, the thought of being more than what she was, of being proper and pretty and maybe even popular, gives Eponine hope. Just a tiny bit.
"I want a blue dress. Blue, with a blue bonnet. And stays and bloomers and all that. And a shawl. And boots lined with rabbit fur. That's what I always wanted at home. Rabbit skin boots. And we can have them here!"
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No, begging letters had been how Eponine had done it. But those docks and those alleys, those street-corners, that was where Nancy had spent her hours. She remembers them too well. And in that little flash across Eponine's face, she knows Eponine remembers, too. And her words- oh, Nancy's heart wrenches itself in her heart.
"We can be whoever we want to be here," she says. "People here think I'm a proper lady. They know me by my married name. They don't know about the whore I were, the thief with fast fingers. And you can do that, too." And they'll start tonight. Just as Nancy had.
She nods, smiling, "Everything you want, I promise I'll take you. A few of the shopkeeps, they know me. I got a deal with some, where I'll model clothes for them that they make, in exchange. I'll take you there, and we'll get you boots and bloomers! A shawl of silk so fine you'll think a spider knit it just for you!" She urge Eponine further into the room, gestures toward the bathroom where the copper claw-foot tub waited.
"You can even wear a blue dress tonight, if you want. I got one you'll look real pretty in."
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"Really? Oh Nancy, I would love to be a lady." She sighs. This Nancy seems so much more hopeful than Eponine, so much more relaxed and so far away from a whore and a thief that Eponine can scarcely imagine the girl on the street. Eponine can't imagine herself. She doesn't dare to imagine herself, not now that it's a reality in front of her. Because what if it isn't? What if it's made up? What if it all comes crumbling around her and Nancy's just mean?
But there's nothing mean in Nancy's expression and nothing cruel in her words. She's not jibed at Eponine and she's not questioned. She's assumed, and she's been right, and she's been there, where Eponine had been merely hours ago, and changed.
Maybe Eponine can change too?
She lets Nancy lead her to the bathroom, clapping her hands in sheer glee when she sees the bath. Honestly, it's all so overwhelming. She can't answer about blue dresses, or Nancy sorting her clothes out. She can't let herself think of anything but the bath in front of her because that at least cannot disappear into the ether. All she can manage is, "Thank you."
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And truthfully, it helps that so many people here are just naturally not as formal as Nancy was used to in polite society.
Nancy hangs back a few steps, watching Eponine take in the bathroom. She'd had the same reaction, and cried for several minutes over the softness of her bed, and the hot water that never seemed to run out. Letting Eponine take her time to see, she moves over to the tub and puts the stopper in before starting to run the water. "Of course," she says sweetly, "Just do the same for someone else, one day. That's all I'd ask."
She gestures to the shelves above the tub. "Anything you want, you can use. Just yell when you need me. I've got towels for you, too- big fluffy ones like the King would have!"
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When she's eventually done, Eponine wraps herself in a big, warm, fluffy towel with a sigh. She has never felt so clean. She'd scrubbed herself in the bath, until the water she was sat in was black with a decade's worth of grime. She'd scrubbed under her broken finger nails and on the soles of her feet until she felt almost shiny and new. She knows she smells better.
After it all now, if she closes her eyes, she can imagine herself a fine lady.
The reality that she'll have to put the rags back on at least to face Nancy almost hurts. She can't bear the thought of the filthy things touching her nice clean, new skin.
So she calls out,
"Nancy? Do you care I am in just a sheet? Or will I put on the chemise again?"
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Besides, it was wonderful to listen to the joy in the other room, she doesn't care about the water or the bubble bath. She'd had the exact same reaction, after all.
"You're fine in your sheet, love," she tells Eponine through the door. "We can wash your things, if you'd like." Or, honestly, burn them. But she'd kept her own dress from back home after a bit of laundering, she imagined Eponine would be much the same.
"I got us a bit of tea- and there's some whiskey besides, if you want."
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"I like it, you know? But it is so expensive in Paris. Me, I am for brandy or cheap wine. Anything really. I like it when it burns."
She looks at the rags in her hands. She's fairly certain they won't stand up to a wash. And the crafty side of her brain is already calculating just how she can use them to get more out of people. Already she can see that the people are softer here than Paris. Who knows how much they'll give if they see her in rags and she spins a little tale?
"I think perhaps to keep 'em, you know?" She says. "They're all I've had for such a long time. I know it's silly..."
She curls up opposite Nancy and the tea things.
"I think you're the nicest girl I ever met, you know?"
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She pours Eponine a cup of tea, and finishes it off with the whiskey, before handing her the cup and saucer.
"No! It ain't silly. I got my dress I came in, still. Still wear that shawl, half the time." she nods toward her wardrobe where the clothing resides.
Eponine calls her nice, and Nancy washes the complement down with a swig of the whiskey straight from the bottle. "Only doin' what someone did for me. I know how awkward it is, standing on the edge of the dance floor and feeling out of place. Besides, you're about my size." And something about her had just called to Nancy. "And I think we could be friends."
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