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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.
Striker | Helluva Boss
Party
What in the fuck is this mess? It's not the first time he's woken up somewhere he's not supposed to be, but usually it's... tied up or beaten up or something more akin to that. Not... at some kind of party where he's being treated like he's supposed to be here, like some sort of guest. While most might actually shrug and take the hospitality, the imp (all 5'3" of him) is seeming far more concerned about all of this. His long tail flicking behind him and the sound of rattling more suited to a rattlesnake the only thing to be heard from him.
One clawed hand moves to check his boot for something and, relieved at whatever it is is there, moves to adjust his cowboy hat with a low mixture of a huff and sigh. He is hungry and these foods look normal enough even with how Hell tends to do things. "Dunno what the fuck anyone would be celebrating with a Hellborn, but at least it's better than the last time I ended up somewhere while asleep..." he mutters under his breath, not seeming particularly bothered if someone hears him.
Dancing
While he might be considered as a "hick" for being from Wrath, someone at least has the understanding of how to blend into society as needed. Or just being bored and learning random things during his downtime. Which is why some poor sap may be finding the imp showing far too sharp teeth with a proper grin, one hand holding his hat close to his chest in a small bow. "You wanna dance? Promise I ain't gonna step on your feet." Considering his shoes seem more like cowboy boots with a sharp tip and sharp heel... it might be worth considering.
Flowers
How he managed to get that dahlia attached to his stupid leather vest of all things is anyone's guess but he oddly doesn't seem particularly bothered by this fact. He's been through and done worse than some stupid flower, right? There's a little niggling in the back of his mind that there's someone he has to find in the crowd, but for now he's doing a great job of keeping it on the backburner as he wanders through the party like someone who's used to making sure they aren't seen, heard, or felt.
Not that it stops him from pausing on the outskirts of the party to take a deep breath to get away from the loudest parts of the music and talk, clawed hand rubbing at his face. Gatherings aren't much his forte and around seemingly so many humans of all things? Ugh.
Flowers
"Loud party, isn't it? I had to get out of there too."
no subject
"Parties ain't ever been my kinda scene. Loud being part of the reason why, yeah." Finally he allows his attention to slip to see who he's speaking to, pausing when he sees her.
Well. That looks horse-shaped, if not one of the hell horses he's used to. Huh.
"I imagine it'd be even worse for you with ears like that, ain't built for loud noises."
no subject
"No, they're really not. But I can deal. I don't think I've seen you around, although I'm kind of new here myself... did the fae just bring you here too?"
no subject
"Fae? Is that who I'm blaming for this utter bullshit?" He's at least grateful to have a name to put to what's going on, even while he moves just a bit to find a tree to lean against properly. He did get lucky on the fact any spikes he has are out of the way for doing any of this. "Brand new to wherever this is, a lot more... colorful than Hell, I'll give it that."
flower
That good mood immediately evaporates when he sees that oh, someone he knows is here, and while for once it's someone he wouldn't mind having terrible shit happen to, it's also someone he really, really does not want to be stuck playing nice with.
"You." He points at Striker angrily. "Motherfucker!"
no subject
He wasn't the one that had noticed the other first, of course not, he hadn't expected to see Blitzø of all fucking people here. But he would be here, wouldn't he? Here to torment him and remind him that he's not what he pretends to be.
But playing nice was entirely off the table the second he pointed and spoke, his lips pulling into that grin full of teeth, muscles clearly tensing and tail lashing behind him with the warning rattle already going off. His hand tenses, ready to grab for the hidden dagger in his boot. "Is that any way to welcome me here, Blitz? Or are you still mad about that pretty little bird of yours?" Perhaps this wasn't the best thing to start out with, but at least a fight is something he's familiar with.
no subject
Right now he's mostly thinking about how it's been over two months since he killed anything and shit would it be nice to break that no murder streak along with Striker's smug fucking face.
"I'm mad about so much. He's only the fucking tip of the shitberg."
no subject
What the fuck does he have to even care about at this point? His attention is fixed on this man and waiting to see if he dares to make a move on him. Nor does the grin ever subside, instead deciding that words is more his speed right now. "That so. Why don't you go off about what's got you so pissed off, then. 'Sides, this ain't Hell and I ain't got any reason to rip your throat open right 'bout now. Not yet unless you're gonna give me a good reason."
no subject
"I think if you could rip out my throat, you'd have done it already one of those many, many times I kicked your ass." He sneers. "But you know. Helping the Goetia do their dirty work is kinda similar, right?"
Dancing
Despite her crisp and posh sounding voice, her battered trenchcoat and the little holes in her shirt suggest she's lived a life of danger rather than privilege. Some look like they've been stabbed through, and a couple look distinctly like a bullet was shot through them.
He's an interesting looking fellow. His appearance reminds her a little of Azazel, and thus in her mind she's dubbed him Cowboy Azazel, until he introduces himself.