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pixieledmemes2025-01-15 09:46 am
Test Drive Meme #1
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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 seems to be a holiday party of some sort, if the large, candle-decorated pine tree in the middle of the tables is any indication. While the party appears to be outside, the temperature is mild and pleasant within the gates and hedges sectioning the party off from the rest of the garden. Stars twinkle overhead, a full moon hanging in the sky, as fluffy flakes of oddly not-cold snow drift to the ground. Some of the hosts dance in a circle around the pine tree, moving their hands around in odd patterns as their feet move; it seems to make the tree glow. The mood seems to be festive, with everyone smiling brightly. Their chipper voices sometimes crescendo louder than the soft chamber music that's being performed in the corner; their laughter rings out like little bells now and then as people get settled.
There are candles and sprigs of pine on every table accenting the festive spread of food and drinks. There are cookies, olives and cheese and crackers, various sliced meats, cranberries and oranges, chocolate coins, fried potatoes of every shape and style, warmed cider and mulled wine, and every other type of food you might be craving.
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.
In front of you sits a spinning top with symbols you don't recognize on each of its four sides. Next to it is a pile of chocolate coins. Someone nearby helpfully explains that you'll need a second player to bet against, but they at least are willing to take a second to explain the rules.
Each round, each player puts a coin into the pot. Then they take turns spinning the top, taking an action depending on the symbol that is landed on. The wind chime means you do nothing. The coin means you take everything in the pot. The sword means you take half of everything in the pot (half plus one if there is an odd number). The hand means you put a piece of your winnings back in the pot. When one person owns every chocolate coin and the other person is left with nothing, they have won the game.
Perhaps you should try and flag someone down to play a game to figure out what's going on around here. After all, half of the party guests look about as confused as you do, and it might be a nice idea to start getting to know the other people here.
Tucked away in a corner sits the dessert table. Each cake, cookie, and pastry has signs next to them:
Warning: Do Not Eat
But everything else you've had tonight doesn't seem to have an effect, so what's the harm in a little sweet treat? You dig in, and then, without your knowledge, something changes about you. What those changes are, exactly, is dependent on the desserts you've eaten. Luckily the effect is only temporary; some only last a matter of minutes, some last hours, but either way as soon as you leave the party, you'll be cured.
Types of Desserts
- Cakes: You will believe you've lived in the Fae Realm your whole life and belong there
- Cookies: You will shrink down to about two inches tall
- Pies: You will forget someone important to you
- Candies: You will no longer be able to tell any lies
- Custards: You will grow a tail, antennae, wings, or any combination thereof
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 received a gift. It could be one you enjoyed or one you did not. Perhaps a particularly amusing story will be rewarded.
party
While August carried himself as if he was wearing a suit, Andros carried himself like he was waiting for an attack. His eyes darted around, on edge despite the assurances of safety. His wrist itched to manifest his morpher and attack, to do something. But he also knew that would solve nothing, at least yet. And only land him in some kind of holding cell if he was lucky.
He handed some of the nuts August had been enjoying back to him. "The damage has already been done. Might as well enjoy yourself." Andros was in his flight suit, gray pants, red shirt and jacket with various insignias on it, two toned hair pulled back in a red tie.
"That I think was kidnapping and assault, but I've been told not to say that too loudly."
Andros was already assessing. August was. Not a ranger. Or if he was? He was really, really good at hiding it. No. Civilian.
no subject
"Pretty nice for kidnappers," he returns. The edge in his voice is a little too sharp to be taken for a joke. He doesn't disagree that this is, by definition, a kidnapping. They've all been taken here against their will, and they're not allowed to leave. No, that woman had said that they can't leave — it's impossible. Or was that a bluff, to manufacture complacency?
"What do you think they need our help for? Apparently we've been chosen for our talents. We're...special."
He makes a face as if, facetiously, this is a great honor bestowed upon him. There's a part of him, of course, that's intrigued by the Lawspeaker's words. Special is just another word for important, and he has wanted to matter his whole life.
no subject
" 'Nice' allows for the possibility of voluntary cooperation. Whether or not there's any truth to any of what they said, they're getting more than if they simply head weapons to our heads." Also it helped that Andros had an out. He was quite sure that this, whatever this was, was completely fixable. Because if it wasn't? That simply wasn't an option he'd entertain. To lose everyone he'd spent so hard trying to find. No.
"There doesn't seem to be any sort of pattern to the type of people here." Whether or not they were 'special', whether or not August believed it? Didn't matter. Andros knew he was. He'd been chosen as the Red Space Ranger. If he wasn't worthy, that power would have been taken away. It hadn't been. At least, that's what he hoped. Had he let everyone down, time and time again? Did his actions make up for it?
"They'll let us know as it suits them. Bits and pieces. Their goal seems to integrate us into their culture. Or at least keep us." Hopefully not as ornaments.
Since it seemed like either this guy wasn't from the same dimension as him (or maybe he just never turned on a TV?) Andros held out his hand to introduce himself. "I'm Andros." He'd been on Earth now long enough that he actually knew how to shake hands and peel a banana. Be proud, August.
no subject
No chance of setting things right with Sara.
Instead, he maintains his wobbly balance on what little is familiar in all this strangeness. Royal courts, he can understand. Currying favor, cozying up to those who wield power. Leveraging his strengths to get a share for himself, burying his weaknesses. This is how he has constructed his life over the past three years. Given how awry everything had gone with Wilhelm, he might actually have a better chance here. His debts have evaporated.
"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar." He nods at his own words of wisdom, then grasps Andros' hand to complete the gesture. His grip is firm, confident. "August Horn. And what 'type' of person are you then, Andros?"
no subject
"Why are we catching flies?"
Still, he shook the mans hand. And was yet again confused. Maybe he didn't understand people from Earth all that well after all?
"Type?" Did August know he wasn't from Earth? Was he asking what he did for work? Or the kind of person he was? Andros probably looked utterly baffled by August.
"I have no idea what you just said."
no subject
"You said you couldn't find a pattern to the type of people here, didn't you? I'm just curious, then, what type of person you would say you are. Why do you think they chose you?"
And what type of person does he think August is? August himself is less sure of the answer to that question lately, like everything he tricked himself into believing was built on solid granite actually turned out to be balanced on pillars of sand instead. If they — he mentally stumbled around the word faeries — brought him here for his talents, he wonders which talent of his snared their attention. What, his gift for fucking everything up?
no subject
"Oh. Sorry. It's been a bit since I was around people." That happened when you were trailing the remains of an evil Empire for years and missed some therapy sessions. " I'm ....Special Forces. This kind of situation? Not really uncommon for me."
Over the years Andros had figured out that's the best way to describe what a Power Ranger was, to someone who didn't know what they were. And since this guy didn't immediately start fawning over him, he figured he didn't know. Besides, he was Karovan, and on KO-35, Power Rangers were part of the military. They were just... Really Special Forces?
"You're a civilian though." That wasn't a question.
no subject
When Andros assesses him as a civilian, August's lips tighten into a line. He's not wrong, of course. August would begin his military training after graduation, but he isn't an officer yet. Upon his father's death, he'd inherited his title — and if Wilhelm fucks up badly enough, he'll be next in line for the throne — but for now, he's still a private citizen.
Andros isn't wrong, but August can't stand being dismissed. There's nothing sharp in Andros' tone to suggest the intent to belittle him, but he hears it anyway. I can handle this situation, but you can't.
"I'm sure I'll manage to find some way to make myself useful." Now, his smile is all edges. "I am second in line to the throne of Sweden, after all."
Because apparently nobody but mentally unwell teenagers are available for the job.
no subject
Andros wasn't always great at reading people, but it was hard to miss an upset August. And he wasn't entirely sure what he did. This was normally a time when another member of his team would step forward. One with people skills. Who hadn't spent two years alone with limited human contact, unstable and emotionally and socially stunted. But they weren't here. So he had a couple of choices. Deal with it. Or....deal with it. Hopefully in a way that wouldn't cause an international incident because this guy thought he was someone. Maybe he actually was.
But as Andros saw it? Second in line to a throne meant....second in line. He hadn't earned anything but being born. Being a ranger was something he had earned. Something he'd been chosen for.
No. Don't say that.
"Then I'm sure you've been trained in some essential skills then. Diplomacy, public speaking, leadership." See, he could do this. In very short doses. "They'll probably come in handy." Especially since Andros had been told not to just. Shoot his way out of this. He hadn't quite decided yet if he was going to listen.
He was really hoping his face wasn't showing just how little he cared that August was royalty. That it didn't mean. Literally anything. But honestly? It probably did. Andros had resting bitch face on a normal occasion. Still he'd come a long way in the past few years. Before he would have said all that shit out loud to August's face and ignored the pleasantries.
Speaking of royalty, Andros made another scan of the room. "By the way, if you see a woman with blue hair and a staff around, she's a princess too. Maybe you'll get along." See, he was helping his sister make friends after all. Maybe they'd get along? " What planet is Sweden?"