![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Test Drive Meme #2
Welcome to the Pixie Led Test Drive Meme!
The prompts will always be game canon, provided both characters who participate in a thread are either already in the game, or get accepted in the next application round.
You do not need an invitation to join the Test Drive Meme, it's open for anyone!
Please indicate character name and canon in the subject line of your top-level. For current characters, you may also indicate your character's court.
For prospective players, Invites open on the 18th, Reserves on the 20th, and Applications on the 22nd. Thanks for checking us out and we hope you'll join us!
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.
no subject
There's another component, this... fondness. It's a little like what it feels about ART, except ART is a massive ship's too-smart bot-pilot, for lack of anything that can actually describe it.
And despite how nearly-incomprehensibly powerful the damn thing is, Murderbot has, in fact, still murdered the ever living shit out of some people who'd hurt it, before.
It's feeling similarly about Castiel, right now. Like if someone harms this person, it's going to enjoy ripping their limbs off one by one.
Now, protectiveness over humans? Weirdly normal for Murderbot. Even humans it just met. No, it doesn't understand it either.
But this degree? It's making its performance reliability sink just considering what sort of bullshit might befall this guy here, in this weird-ass party full of what it can only assume to be rampant alien remnant contamination. And contamination isn't something Murderbot can just... kill the shit out of. Or even protect anyone from.
It may even be a vector itself, by now. It could be contaminating Castiel even as it considers the danger.
βππ£ππ π£πππππ π£πππππππππ₯πͺ ππ π‘ππ£ππππ₯ πππ ππ£π π‘π‘πππ.
This is not good. Murderbot has no idea how to process panic that it can't do a damn thing about, and it's sending its whole system into a tailspin. ]
I am-- emergency shutdown.
[ Time to warn its... person, though its ability to process outgoing speech is breaking up. ]
I will-- limp for-- minutes. Just let-- drop. Heavy.
no subject
But instead he simply sags against its frame, cheek resting on its chest as his own rises and falls with breaths he doesn't need to take. ]
Oh. [ Words pull him from his reverie, and he eases back, jaw working, forcing the haze from his mind best he can. ] That's alright.
[ Weight isn't a problem for Castiel - cars, several ton anvils, iron, it's all fine. ]
Do what you must. I will catch you.
no subject
βππ£ππ π£πππππ π£πππππππππ₯πͺ πππ₯ππ€π₯π£π π‘πππ ππ£π π‘.
πππ¦π₯ππ π¨π.
βππ€π₯ππ£π₯.
--going absolutely limp.
All around the party, a lot of tiny little drones freeze in place, hovering where they are. Those nearest Castiel and Murderbot, a small cloud of them overhead, continue to act as though nothing's different, not having been under Murderbot's direct manual control at the time.
And it is heavy, a hell of a lot heavier than a human even of its height would be, and completely dead weight, every joint unlocked. But it's not remotely a several-ton anvil. So. At least there's that. ]
no subject
Carefully, he lays it down, shedding his trench to shove a makeshift pillow up under its head, and then he waits. It's all he can do, he supposes.
Of course, if it takes too long, he may well begin to get anxious and panicky, squirming where he sits and start thinking about calling for help. ]
no subject
No breathing, no weird disjointed pulse. But then those systems kick back on, and several entire minutes later, all at once, Murderbot's eyes open fully. The drones around the party resume moving as it picks up all their inputs again. ]
Fuck.
[ The organic part of its brain is still flushed clean of influence, for the moment. It runs analysis on what had happened before the effects, and after .5 seconds it grabs the flower off its own jacket and hurls it away.
Where is Castiel's? There. It can't reach it from here, so it shoves its sleeve up out of the way, opens the gun port in its forearm, and shoots the flower off the human with a narrow energy burst dialed to be just strong enough to get the job done. This takes only another half of a second to happen, in total. One second since it cursed.
Slow, but it just woke up from a hard shutdown, fight it.
And it could almost do surgery with its onboard energy weapons, so at least there's no danger that anyone could be hit. ]
no subject
You-
[ He'd had something to say, he thinks, but it all happens in a blink. The moment the little flower is pulled from the lapel of the black jacket he wears under his trench, his mind begins to clear. The fog lifts and Castiel can finally see through the haze and he sits back hard on his ass, hands planted on the ground beside him, legs out. ]
Oh. That was...odd.
no subject
Yeah.
[ It had levered itself halfway to sitting upright to shoot the flower, and now it lets itself thump back to the floor. Still kind of, you know, coming to over here. ]
...Yeah.
no subject
[ He vaguely gestures at the bunched up trench, but doesnβt reach to shove the jacket back up under its head. ]
I feel strange. That was strange.
no subject
Emergency shutdown flushed all their garbage out of the organic parts of my brain. Temporarily, at least. It let me figure out what was happening.
[ However the effect had been caused, the result was a hell of a chemical cocktail up in there! ]
Yours still has to filter all the crap out with you awake for it. Probably going to feel strange for a bit.
[ Sort of like some potent, illicit drugs, Murderbot figures. ]
no subject
[ Not as quickly as his companion, but the longer they sit, the more Castielβs eyes clear. ]
I donβt understand how that could happen to something like me. Or you, evidently.
no subject
People don't feel like that about something like me.
[ As a SecUnit, it's used to inspiring fear and paranoia. Distrust. Disdain. That's normal, outside of its weird group of weird humans. Whatever draw had been between them mere moments ago? Not normal at all.
The protectiveness that had put it into a spiral was normal enough, to be truthful. But not in that intensity. It was counter-productive to panic like that. And for a stranger, no less.
How embarrassing. ]
Some sort of drug? Those flowers were involved. We both had them under our faces, maybe they were giving off something.
no subject
[ Dean considers him a tool, that much he knows. Castiel is useful in a tight spot, and always comes when the hunter calls. He likes to think Dean thinks of him a friend, considering Castiel had rebelled against heaven for him, fallen from grace all for one man, simply because he'd asked. ]
That must be it. [ He rubs at his face instinctively, frowning as the haze finally clears. ] It disturbs me something like that can effect something like me. And you.
no subject
Its diagnostics must be fucking up, thats all.
Any alternative theory it can cook up is too terrifying to contemplate, right now. So it's just not going to.
Problem solved?
It doesn't turn its head to look at Castiel with its organic eyes, now closed. But its watching him through several drones. ]
Well, I'm a terrifying [
murderbot] SecUnit. What are you?[ Surely, that fancy title earlier isn't it. 'Angel' shows up in a tiny bit of its media archives, but they look nothing like this guy.
It also runs back drone footage of itself collapsing. Like it had warned, if Castiel had done anything creepy to it, it would have known. ]
A normal human definitely would have fallen down, trying to catch me like that.
no subject
[ But evidently it must be terrifying to some people, considering the impressive display regarding the flower. ]
I think were I human and Iβd tried to catch you, I would have several broken toes. [ But he is not, and he speaks it plainly. ] I am an angel of the Lord. Seraph, to be precise. Second under archangels.
[ spn angelarchy is weird ]
no subject
[ It's helpfully adding that, playing the catch again and analyzing it a little closer. ]
There are angels in some of my media archives, but they're... different.
[ No halo? No big white feathery wings? It would feel ripped off, except-- ]
Media never gets SecUnits right, either.
no subject
[ He would be SO OFFENDED if mb said that so it's best it just. Doesn't. He does not have a halo dammit (his wings ARE rather soft, but that's neither here nor there. ]
This is just a vessel. My true form looks much different.
no subject
[ It's still feeling... for lack of a better word, woozy. From the not-poison, and from the restart. It would normally keep this thought to itself. ]
Almost deleted myself doing that.
[ It doesn't recommend. Going from a small form to a massive one all at once and then crashing back into your normal shape is... a lot. And it's not the physical size, it's all the raw computing power, and the different coding architecture, and...
Yeah. Not doing that again, thanks. It's not exaggerating about the deletion, it had had to rebuild itself using only its organic neural tissue for a long time, there. The other part of its brain had been effectively soft-bricked. ]
I have one reference to a lot of wings and eyeballs and fire. Something more like that? Or is that also inaccurate.
[ It needs to know, for science. ]
no subject
That's more accurate, yes. Three sets of wings, spinning wheels, countless eyes. Three heads.
[
no subject
I have a lot of eyes, too.
[ It only has two organic ones in its face. But it lifts the hand that still has its sleeve pushed back to expose the gunport, and points at one of the drones hovering overhead. Tiny, spherical little things with no visible means of staying afloat. They're all over the place in the party, staying well overhead and out of everyone's way.
Watching everything. ]
Those are also mine.
[ It's very out-of-it. ]
no subject
[ He looks around, eyeing the drones, nodding to himself. It would be helpful if he could do that, but Castiel's eyeballs reside within his body. Head. Whatever. ]
You aren't an angel, though. [ He'd sense that, probably. ]
no subject
[ Interestingly, it hasn't given Castiel its 'name', but if it ever gets around to what to call it... yeah, it just goes by SecUnit, too.
And the weird 'off' feeling from the hard reset lingers, which is what it's going to blame later for volunteering: ]
We're made to be... expensive but ultimately disposable, security equipment.
[ So. You know. People really don't usually feel Emotions about one, Murderbot's little collection of Very Strange Humans aside. And ART, maybe? But ART is a strange entity by literally any standard. ]
no subject
[ It said that, Castiel is just...also reeling. The flower is gone and the spell broken, but that doesn't mean he's not off-kilter, left feeling wrong footed and mildly dazed. ]
I see. [ He blinks a few times, slowly, then adds, ] Our numbers are not infinite, but we are only soldiers. Not exactly disposable, but not...not.
no subject
[ That gets a sidelong look from Murderbot's actual, organic eyes. ]
So, humans aren't the only assholes.
[ Humans make constructs like Murderbot. Media suggests something else is usually blamed for making... angels. ]
no subject
No, it seems not. I've been referred to as a 'dick with wings' on occasion.
[ Also God is a dick, a puppetmaster pulling strings, but Castiel
doesn't yet know that. Best he never does. ]
no subject
[ It still doesn't see any wings, though. False advertising, angel. ]
I'm also a massive asshole, but I don't make anyone put up with it.
[ Doesn't stop some humans from damn near climbing over the top of each other to be around it. For some reason. They're just ridiculously reckless like that, and it definitely never finds that a little charming. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)