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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.
no subject
She may be in a fanciful dress and coat, covered near completely in fine fabrics of black and red, but Vanessa lacks the proper presentation for a party this fair (one doesn't normally bother with make-up or jewelry for a witch hunt). Even her dark hair shows signs of being hastily pinned back, with loose ringlets framing a sharp face.
The urge to knock every bit of food and drink to the ground nearly overcomes her, but Vanessa refrains with jaw clenched, instead circling the table while glaring at the chair. She hopes to sense if someone or something is attempting to remain hidden. Or have they simply taken a moment away from their feast?
She knows better. You know better.
Even still, Vanessa is overcome with her curiosity as she passes beside the chair, near anticipating—hoping?—to feel the warmth of someone else's hand (or claws) while reaching for a half-empty glass. ]
no subject
Zorya—in a circlet that confirms the bit about royalty, and a black cloak that otherwise covers all of her except her head and the trailing of her long, thick tail if one were to look all the way at the ground—emerges from whence she came, wherever that was, and the thing about her that usually unsettles humans remains the way it is. She doesn't like legs. They're frankly bizarre, and so she doesn't bother with them: her humanoid top half can speak just fine, she has hands, and her bottom half is all purple-scaled snake body. This Naga is the typical size of a human, though, just about seeing eye-to-eye with an average height woman.
... provided she isn't striking, anyway.
This is not the point. The point is: her hand is cold, and it is not invisibly consuming food, but behind Vanessa and placing its palm to the human woman's shoulder, splaying out bony fingertips. ]
Did you want my drink? You can have it, if you want.
no subject
She remains perfectly still at first, hand still poised mid-reach, as all manner of suspicions and considerations are played out in her moment's pause. Her hand then drops to her side as she half turns her head, the periphery of her pale gaze drifting from the hand on her shoulder, down to the beautiful shimmer of serpentine scales where feet ought to be.
Fear doesn't strike her, nor awe, but there's an old reverence that mingles with her fury. The thing within, that other self, once had an ancient fondness for cobras. For monsters. Vanessa ignores that dark stirring in her blood.
Do not be distracted. ]
No.
[ The rasp is harsher than intended, but still quiet. When she turns, it's with a glare still simmering. ]
What I want is to leave, and yet I know better than to ask.
no subject
Good.
[ Does she believe that eating or drinking anything belonging to faerie royalty will bind her closer to the realm, like some others do, or is she merely smart? Zorya wonders—she wishes to know—she will not ask. ]
You are my favorite so far, I think. But you are angry at me. At us.
no subject
She is far more experienced with demon kings favoring her. Is this so very different from that? What she knows of the Fae is merely from what she's read, but Vanessa isn't only cautious because of superstition. They could drug her with their food. They could use her real name in the casting of a curse. Any caution she wields has one foot in the spiritual and one in the terrestrial.
A foolish hope, perhaps, that she still has any power over her circumstance, but having been facing Lucifer only minutes (hours?) prior, she can't be bothered to feel intimidated by faeries and their passing amusements. She is on a bloody mission, and her enemies aren't all yet in the dirt. ]
My wrath is for another. You are not worth my anger.
[ She is angry at the Fae, of course, and she didn't technically say no.
An insult, still, and she knows she ought to be careful with her words here, but she also knows so well how language can be a weapon. If they won't show her the way out, is it possible to curse them into doing so? Can the Fae be charmed? ]
I said I would not ask. [ One hand clenches into a fist, nails digging into her palm. ] But if you do not help me return to London, I will make certain that you know regret.
[ Now a threat. Nobody's going to favor that, are they? ]