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pixieledmemes2025-03-15 08:32 am
Test Drive Meme #2
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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 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.
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.
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.
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.
Rose Tyler | Doctor Who
πΌ π πππππ ππ βπππ πππππ
πΊ π€πππππππ
chrysanthemum;
captorshosts, however, insist that he picks up another one to replace it. So, he's headed back over to the table with all the flowers on it, this time picking up a dahlia. He's stopped in his tracks, though, when a pretty blonde woman smiles at him and says hello.At first, he glances over his shoulder. She couldn't possibly be talking to him, right? But, there's no one else here. ]
Uh... Hi.
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It makes sense, it really does, that her heart should be pounding in her chest. That she should feel a rush like adrenaline and butterflies, that she should know right off that he's- something. Important. )
I'm Rose. Rose Tyler. ( She holds out a hand toward him, while confidently declaring: ) I think we're gonna be great friends, you and me. I've got a really good feeling about it.
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Rose does seem interested in him. And he could probably do with having more friends, if he's going to be stuck here. But there's a part of him that feels like by getting to know Rose, he would be betraying Raven somehow. Even if Raven already made her allegiances very clear. ]
Um, I'm Hank. Hank McCoy. It's, ah. Nice to meet you, Rose.
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Who could ever possibly be as important as him? This is- he's-
It's him. Something in her recognizes something in him on a level that's deeper than thinking, and she's desperately curious to know him, this man that's already taking up space in her chest. )
Well, Mister McCoy, what d'you say to getting a drink? If we're already stuck here, we may as well, yeah?
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But... She's kind. And her hair reminds him of Raven. And, if last night wasn't enough evidence that Raven and Hank aren't meant to be together, then... What other sign is there? ]
Uh, sure. [ He looks around, trying to identify the nearest drinks table. Thankfully, his height puts him over most of the crowd, so he can spot it easily. Once located, he looks back to Rose and offers his elbow for her to take. ]
Um, shall we?
πΈ π¦ππ’'ππ ππππ π¦ππ’π ππππ‘ ππ‘ π‘βπ
[The Doctor beams and runs towards her]
carnation
A loop.
Not a time loop, not really.
Just memories, stuck on repeat, because the last time he saw Rose he was running through the very street, this very memory of the future for her, but very far in the past for him.
And the thing is: he should never have gotten involved with this party. Doesn't know what turn he took to wake up here, should never, never have eaten anything. He knows better. He may have a skewed view of magic, but he knows myth, he knows rules--never so good at following rules, but he knows. Don't stray from the path. Don't eat food.
But he's been short-fused as of late, running in a non-fun no-good way, and he got angry. Any party for him at this point could only be a farewell party, maybe even a funeral party. Ha ha ha, thanks for all the laughs! See you, Doctor.
So he shoved an entire piece of banana cream cake in his mouth and that was that.
Not his smartest moment, turns out.
So he's here, but he's not. He hasn't taken a flower--that's better for the both of them, though he likely would have taken a rose. Funny, that.
(It's not funny.)
He doesn't know if she's real. If she's a fabrication due to the nature of this party, so-called for him. And that's the only reason he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch her. There's fear and hope and so close to anger in his voice when he calls out, because if this is an illusion of the fae, he's going to get very, very angry in a moment.
But he doesn't believe they can make a perfect copy of her.
He'll know. He'll know, won't he?] Rose?
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For a moment, just a fleeting moment, she's tempted to give up. Just one.
And then it's gone again, and she's digging stubborn heels into the grass, fixing her jaw, determined. He's going to regenerate. He has to. He can't just die and yeah, so she'll miss the one with the teeth and the hair, but it's still him, just like he's the same man as the one with big ears and a leather jacket. The next one, whatever he looks like, will still be him too. Forever means forever, she'll stay with him regardless of the wrapping paper, she doesn't care-
Rose?
She freezes, stone still.
And then turns, slowly, toward the sound of the voice. Her eyes are wet, gleaming with unshed tears. Still a stubborn, insouciant set to her shoulders, to her back teeth where they grind together. It only just begins to bleed out when the face matches the voice.
Her lips part and then, stupidly, her head whips around to look in the direction of where a bolt might be coming from, if that hallucination were to take place in the fae realm rather than on an empty street. )
I-
( But there's nothing; her wild alarm is unfounded, there's only him, and the pounding of her heart that's just as much from fear as it is from other things. )
Are you real?
( Or is this a hallucination too? Blindly, unthinkingly, she makes to reach out a hand. To touch. To check. Except she pauses mid-step, hand still outstretched, afraid the answer isn't going to be one she wants to learn so suddenly. )
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(And, well, his metacrisis might honestly be a bit more on the level than he is currently, but he's never admitting that out loud.)
It's the dimension cannon and the way she reaches out, overlaying too many memories, that has his laugh turn more real. More light. More him.
He doesn't say anything. He just reaches out with both arms and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug as his answer.]
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They move at the same time, because they always do.
Her arms around his neck as his collide around her waist, and she's hanging on in a familiar embrace that she can feel through every bit of her, from the tips of her hair to the soles of her feet, like coming home. Like coming home, even though this is the wrong dimension and the wrong time and the wrong everything else, it's right. It's so right. )
Oh my god, ( She manages thickly against the wrinkles in the shoulder of his suit jacket, her voice breaking on pitchy syllables. ) Oh my god, I did it. It worked, I found you, I did it-
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He should at least tell her that much.
He really, really should
Predictably, he doesn't. He doesn't need to even deflect.
It won't matter. She'll see through the cracks, eventually. When he's least expecting it, too.
(He wonders if she's seen Donna yet. Another thing he doesn't say. It just leads to more things he doesn't want to talk about.)
But it's always easy, talking to her. Like riding a bike--probably, maybe. He's been alone for so long, but this is so very, very easy, and his voice is warm and bright.] Brilliant, Rose Tyler. Absolutely brilliant. You can do anything. Impossible odds with a fae party of all things? But no, lookit you. Here.
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A part of her thought she couldn't. A part of her kept expecting to fail, no matter how many times she stubbornly squashed the thought and plowed ahead with brute force and determination, some small voice in the back of her mind always whispered that it wouldn't work out. She'd just miss him every time, the dimension cannon would break, she'd slip into the void, anything, anything could go wrong. Anything could lead to a disaster and she'd never, ever see him again.
But they're here. They're here, after all this time. Now that she's got him, she doesn't want to let go β what if he slips away again? What if that vision comes true, that bolt from nowhere, exterminate? What if she blinks and he disappears, what if, what if, what if-
Eventually she's got to peel herself away. Got to look at him properly, got to see him for real. His face, that face, that one she's so fond of. She reels away only inches, so she can peer up β and place a hand against his cheek. Smiling softly, aching like an open wound, looking for differences with a little knit of concern furrowed into her brow. Her eyes flicker from one of his to the other and back again, searching.
Finding... something that deepens the furrow just a little, but she doesn't ask just yet. Not- not just yet. She will, but first- )
But how's this possible? I wasn't aiming for this place, I dunno how- how are you here, too? And where's the TARDIS?
( In all her wandering of the party, she'd seen no evidence of a big blue box. Surely they can't have intercepted him the way they intercepted other ordinary people? )
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He hasn't let her go yet either though, and there's a twitch in his hands, a full-body exhaustive shudder, when she asks about the TARDIS.
What a gaping wound, that. A missing limb. He doesn't even try to hide that pain behind a masked smile. There would be no point.] She's not here. I don't--I don't remember what happened, before I woke up.
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It doesn't feel light. Not the way he looks, not his body language, not the answer that follows. The Doctor without the TARDIS is just wrong; the Doctor losing memories is nearly as bad. There are pieces she's missing, she knows, she's just not clever enough to ascertain what they are yet.
Her hand drops away from his cheek, but it doesn't go far. It just drifts down, from shoulder to bicep, where it hangs on β they're of the same mind, maybe. About not letting go yet. Not so soon. )
You don't- Doctor, I just saw... when I touched that flower, just now when I put it on, I saw something. I saw you dying. Was it that? Could it have been-
( My fault? Could it be he doesn't remember because they pulled him as he was regenerating? )
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He uses that hand to scratch at his head.] Just a graze. Not enough for a full regeneration. I just used what I needed to patch myself up and siphoned the rest off into my hand. Thanks for that, Jack. [And then that hand went caused him a multitude of problems.
Nevermind that.
He pockets both his hands.] You found me then and you found me now. Not sure what that means, Rose. [It's probably not his fault. Probably. He didn't mess with things that badly.] But we were fine then, and we're going to be fine now.
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you'll find your feet (all aboard the pain train lol)
Dancing is new for him, but Ethan has never been the type to turn away a pretty lady. Except this particular lady has a familiar voice, even if the accent is off, and gives him pause. He can see her out of the corner of an eye and the way his heart twists is immediate. Too slowly, he turns his face and looks down at her, letting out a shaky breath.
Brona. He mouths the first syllable of her name and stops himself.
No, not Brona, he knows that deep down, but the resemblance would be uncanny if not for the color of her hair and accent. Warm brown eyes search hers and naturally find no recognition which brings on a small, sad smile. It's difficult to recover without notice but he tries nonetheless, eventually drawing up a hand to take hers but he holds it like it's made of glass. ]
I can't promise I won't step on your feet.
[ The southern drawl is as soft as the touch to her hand. This is so surreal but seeing her face again, even if it doesn't actually belong to her, is something he is thankful for. In short order he clears his throat and recovers quickly, punctuated by him giving her a little twirl in place. The confidence returns to his voice. ]
Ethan Chandler, and you are?
choo choo; romantic music prompt for sad!doomed!flirting?
Maybe that's what draws her to Ethan in the first place, or maybe it only manifests after he sets eyes on her. She doesn't know, it's not a conscious thing that she does, not really. In either case, here they are.
And she does like a charming man. Even if her heart belongs to someone else, there's a fun to be had in banter, a friendliness to be found in what some might call flirting. Rarely ever does she have any intentions on following through, it's more like a game, or a sport. A joke. Something to keep things light and airy and easy.
She squeezes his hand gently, encouragingly. Gives him a little tug; c'mon, already. No need to be so modest.
And then he twirls her; there it is. That's the spark of life she'd been hoping for. She smiles at him approvingly, settling back into step with grace. )
Rose Tyler. M'gonna go out on a limb and assume you're an American, judging by that twang you've got, Ethan Chandler.
neither one of them do things part way (spotify picked time after time)
[ She sure knows how to pull the rug out from a man, the words nearly echo one of the first things Brona said to him. The longer he is in her presence, the more he begins to pick apart the differences and the easier it becomes to lower his guard. He's been fooled by a pretty face before, but this feels genuine β he isn't biased in the slightest bit. Definitely not a debutante but she has a charm all her own.
Ethan can practically hear her voice in the back of his mind telling him to get the fuck over it and move on but it's tough. She was everything. The squeeze to his hand wrenches him free from his thoughts and he carefully draws her in, his other hand finding a gentlemanly place at her back. It's simple enough to dip back into old routines and Vanessa is a fantastic teacher, the only way he could mess this up is though his own fault.
Any lingering hesitation seeps away at the smile. ]
You're as observant as you are bold, Miss Tyler. It makes me wonder if I'm going to get a word in edgewise. Do you know how to waltz?
dancing
Sure, let's do it.
[ He takes her hand and gives it a second to see if she'll lead him to the dance floor or if she's waiting on him to do so. He doesn't want to presume. Once they're dancing, the music suitably upbeat, he suddenly realizes this is a friend of his. He scrunches his nose with a grin. ]
This is a fabulous party. How are you? I almost didn't recognize you!
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And then the music sets in, and she blinks a few times in recognition before a wide, beaming smile blossoms across her face. )
Oh my god, hi! I'm so stupid, I didn't even realize, can you believe it? ( It's him, obviously it's him. They've been friends for ages! It's- um. Blimey, what's his name again? She really ought to know, given how fond she is of him, but the music must be drowning out her ability to think of it. It doesn't matter, she adores him anyway. ) I can't believe you're here, this whole time I thought I was on my own. This is brilliant!
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Brilliant! Absolutely.
[ He lets her lead then, even giving a spin when their hands separate for a moment. ]
Did you wake up here like I did? They told me this party's for me but I'm hearing that's what they told a lot of people.
spring is here again; orchid
Roseβs back is facing him, but he knows. He can remember the torment in her eyes. A daughterβs innocent plea for her father to return. But nothing in this universe can bring this version of Paul back.
He knows the lyrics to this song all too well.
The whole sensation felt as though the two of them were standing on that road for the first time.
But itβs different now. Heβs different. On the outside, at least. Internally? Wellβ¦Some might say thatβs debatable.
He takes a step forward, his right hand massaging his left palm. ]
Just a regular Del Boy. [ The words come out gentle yet cautious. ] On his way to a wedding.
[ But this isnβt his eulogy to tell. ]
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But all the same, when the memory ends there are tears in her eyes, and the hand still sporting the corsage reaches up to swipe away at her water line with the backs of her thumbs.
The voice startles her a little, and she hesitates to turn until she's scrubbed her cheeks clear of tears β like it isn't still painfully obvious when she finally does look 'round at him.
Not a face she knows. Not a voice she knows. So the smile she slaps on is polite, but distant. Kind, but impersonal. )
Yeah. Yeah, he- my dad, he was a bit like that. But he had a good heart, y'know? A really... really good heart.
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Because The Doctor doesnβt need to know how good a man Paul Alan Tyler is, he has already seen Roseβs father risk it all to protect his family. The way Paulβs face became pale when he realized that his early fate was inevitable. How he had to come to terms that he will never see his daughter grow up (at least, not in the most normal sense).
He stares at her for a moment, pursing his lips. Of course, he doesnβt expect Rose to see him. Rather, he soaks in her presence, quietly thankful for the tides of this universe to bring them together once more.
Then his attention draws back to the road. ]
Thatβs the thing about parents: They bumble around day after day, not knowing what theyβre doing is best for their child.