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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.
armand | iwtv
𐕣 w i l d c a r d｡
geis. un: princessofevil
What changed?
un | algol
Not that I'm ungrateful now to have had those years, of course. But some gifts eventually grow to burden us in ways we can't possibly imagine at the time.
no subject
That doesn't sound like a gift, it sounds like a curse. Gifts are supposed to be something you treasure.
no subject
[ He said... vaguely. 😌 ]
A blessing and a curse; yet another one of life's many conflicts. It's too simple being just one or the other.
the party.
I don't know, [ he says, with due consideration given. ] Seems a bit hackneyed to me as a theme.
no subject
Theatre is about interpreting beyond the purely literal, yes, but within reason; a theme of Midsummer during winter demands further justification than mere aesthetics, surely. ]
It is said that no cliche exists without a good reason for it, [ he drawls thoughtfully, nodding his head. ] Though I'd have to agree— one should never be resorting to them so whimsically, lest the outcome turn out trite and superficial.
no subject
[ When you've been around since before cliches were cliches, there's an extra layer of boredom attached. Bartimaeus tosses his apple in the air and catches it neatly, buffing it on his shirt. ]
You new too, then?
no subject
He nods after briefly considering the question, letting his shoulders roll back in a desultory shrug. ]
New to the area, yes, but not the pageantry.
[ This boy seems a lot more like a faerie's preferred choice of target than Armand himself, though he knows better than to judge a book by its cover— after all, they're clearly both here tonight at the devil's sacrament, so if they truly are in Fae Country now, it can't be by accident. ]
Do you believe them?
no subject
[ Most people (and spirits) lie through their teeth about everything, big and small. Hell, Bartimaeus has even let slip a little white lie now and again, although otherwise he's as honest as honest can be.
Something about the young man's countenance sparks a thought at the back of his mind, and he gives the Planes a quick shufti. The golden eyes are a bit of a giveaway,¹ but as he cycles upwards towards the seventh, things get a little more alarming. It's not as alarming as a marid, for example, but that there's something dark and foreboding concealed on the higher planes is enough to make him wary.
Wariness doesn't show on the boy's face, but he considers, briefly, turning into something inoffensive and bug-sized and flying away. Best to keep his nose out of trouble. ]
I'm used to a concealed motive. All that remains is to find out what it is.
[ ¹ Bartimaeus has used them himself in particular guises, although this man's are a bit much. Always better to go for subtlety. ]
no subject
( continued here! )
Party
The problem is, Diana is also usually in better shape.
At present, she's in a tattered, white dress. And almost every inch of her skin, save for her face, is covered in bite marks. A sadist could make one hell of a game of connect the dots with her injuries.
So there isn't as much smiling and laughing as usual.
Nevertheless, she overhears the comment about Midsummer. As she's a proud drama queen, she easily replies from her spot beside the wall:]
Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow
New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Of our solemnities.
no subject
He meets her gaze, offering a faint smile. ]
Out of this wood, do not desire to go,
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
no subject
[She awkwardly folds her arms behind her back, as if that's somehow going to make her wounds less noticeable.]
At least no one's been turned into an ass...yet.
no subject
[ Armand grins disarmingly, eyes flashing faintly in the candlelight. He could continue playing dumb, pretend like he hasn't noticed the state of her, but what would be the point of that? ]
Dare I ask?
no subject
I got bit.
[Yes, she's aware of how it sounds, even as she says it. But, of course, her first thought is actually of him, not her own misery.]
Don't worry. They're not here. They can't hurt anyone at the party.
un: queen
un | algol
Party
[In truth, it is all a guess. One Alucard feels confident enough in making, one hand holding a goblet he's barely taken from. It is a good enough prop for now.
Aesthetics though. That gets a second appraising glance.]
The work done does beg the question of how much was accomplished through magic and how much was through labor.
no subject
[ Although if so, Armand does strongly disagree with the notion that this (so-called) contrast is at all effective at truly conveying that point, creating that atmosphere. The director in him can't help but be critical of the message, and the immortal in him can't help thinking that it just doesn't work— there is a reason he likened this evening to dinner theatre, after all.
Then again, he supposes there's really no gentler way to break this sort of news at a party so that it actually rings true; he isn't even sure yet whether or not he believes it, although nor does he disbelieve it, either. The world contains far more mystery than most people tend to assume. ]
Are you very familiar with Fae magic?
no subject
He folds his arms over his chest, wine glass now awkwardly held.]
Not especially. I've heard stories in passing, but I grew up in Wallachia. My understanding is that fae stories are associated with England and Ireland, and I've barely spent time there. I live in hope that someone might be more knowledgeable here.