TEST DRIVE MEME (JAN 23')

[myddvaimods]

TEST DRIVE MEME
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Arc Introduction, Month 0


The Pull

Falling asleep, closing one's eyes to die, or simply walking through a doorway... it only takes the slightest lapse of consciousness for the magic to take hold. That sudden feeling of falling within a dream overtakes the senses, lasting far longer than it should. If lucky or nimble, feet will hit the floor rather than spine or face.

Characters find themselves pulled into a new world without warning, and they are now in the spotlight. Literally. From their new vantage point from center stage in a cabaret, they can just barely make out the strange, sprawling figures that form their audience. Hulking animal shapes sit at tables and lean against walls, defining the edges of the dark space. The floorboards glow with untold power, etched with countless runes and scripts, radiating power and… a strangely pleasant smell of vanilla and cinnamon fills the air.

"Charming," says a seemingly disembodied voice, tone bored despite the compliment, "Let this one stay, I'm intrigued by them."

"Suboptimal," responds another voice, this time clearly to the right and behind. Looking over a shoulder, the two speaking stand on opposite sides from one another.


The last to speak, a seven-foot tall goat man, is holding a broken shepherd's staff. The whole of the item is glowing with power and strands of magic wind outward like thread or like marionette strings, as they trail to the new arrivals body at all their joints. The goat man sighs and lowers the staff, dispelling the magic and the strands like extinguishing a flame. Colorful sparks and embers erupt and rise all around the stage, before cooling and disappearing into thin air.

"Welcome, you're one of the Pulled. Now, get off the stage," says that first voice again, from the other figure. They are a slim person of ambiguous gender and seemingly timeless age. They crack a smirk, "we have more of your kind to summon, the good Secretary Theodore will explain further,"

With that, it's time to explore what this strange place and experience holds, because there's seemingly no going back now.



Theodore is not his name...

Whether going willingly or getting kicked off, the most recent Pulled is moved into the off-stage area. A man waits, looking uneasy and stressed but doing his best to project some air of competency. He'll shake hands with anybody who'd like to but doesn't seem surprised or offended if they don't take his hand.

"Good to meet you. I'm Ted, Ydris' secretary," he has an overall exhausted air to him, as he pushes up his glasses.

Every Pulled gets the same, rehearsed explanation of what's going on.

First, a welcome to Myddvai, the name of the world they now find themselves pulled into. Myddvai is the vast World Tree, floating pleasantly through space. It is a highly magical place and thus not always the easiest to explain. He heeds that Pulled might want to curve any... expectations of perfect consistency. This world is highly unpredictable.

In the most basic terms, Myddvai is controlled by forces of Chaos and Order. All magic falls between these two extremes and is, curiously, denoted by flavor. The curious scent of cinnamon and vanilla is caused by the magic at work, summoning in the various Pulled. Ted introduces the two on the stage as Ydris and Ives, who are currently the two most powerful beings active on Myddvai. He urges that getting on either of their bad sides would be unwise.

The two on stage have devised this ritual summoning because the whole of Myddvai is in trouble. Ydris is one of five Dragon Deities, the living gods that oversee the natural order and chaotic forces throughout Myddvai.

Due to "a mishap," the other four Dragons are all unconscious. Many groups are scrambling to find their own solutions or, more concerningly, using this opportunity to seize various forms of control.

Ydris is aligned to Order and cannot allow such grabs at power on their, suddenly very solo, watch. Ives, who is a being with wisdom more ancient than even the gods of this world, has enlisted himself to help with this. The two agree they need outsiders with no biases on the politics of this world, and no motivation outside of what Ydris and Ives can offer them all. The prize for cooperation is a simple choice:

"Pulled are welcome to remain in the world and live out their mortal lives in luxury, heroes that will be favored by all the gods... or, be returned to your homes with new life and power. Even if you aren't interested in going home, there are others who are." Ted glances away for a moment, before his gaze returns to the Pulled, "The choice will be each of yours to make... provided you cooperate. If you're not interested in helping, you can be a normal citizen of the world. That's always an option."

Beyond that overwhelming lore dump, Ted can only answer so many further questions, but feel free to inquire with Ted. He's mostly around to field each Pulled as they're directed off stage to meet him. Other Pulled who have already heard the script can hang around in his space longer, but they'll probably get tired of the same speech over and over. Ted looks like he would love to stop...

Join the Audience

"You can join the rest of the audience. Mingle as much as you'd like," Ted urges to those done with their orientation.

There is only a curtain blocking the backstage from the seating area. Joining the audience reveals that the figures watching this ritual are animal, insect, and arachnid people. Dog, rat, bat, snake... all manner of heads sit expressively upon more human bodies, all dressed in sharp suits, gowns, or mixtures thereof. This appears to be quite the fancy affair!

These are Springtide Vampires, the aristocratic leaders of this particular culture. They eagerly invite Pulled in pairs to sit and socialize with them.

While a few lick their chops at the new arrivals, they insist they are not out for off-world blood. No, what they want is connections to the Pulled. Springtide Families are all headed by a Vampire, and those who grant resources to this endeavor are being promised great favors or riches by Ydris. So, they are hungry for clout more than anything. A few Vampires are interested in making conversation about themselves, but most prefer to simply eavesdrop on any Pulled sitting at their tables and speaking with one another.

Pulled who are especially interesting or social will be slipped a calling card with a family crest: Rat, Dog, Raven, Moth, Cat, or Spider. The Vampire granting the card will instruct Pulled that this will be valuable soon. So, hold onto it for later and guard it against thieves. Pulled can only acquire one of these cards each, so choose carefully. If Pulled decide to trade among themselves, that may come with future consequences.

((Note: Vampires will be NPCs available for interaction below, but players are free to handwave basic interactions, as described above. Receiving one of the calling cards can also be done at player discretion.))

The bar is open to a new you


At the far end of the cabaret is a long bar leading to a kitchen. Mysteriously, the cabaret has no discernable exit. There is a row of seats facing the bartenders and another facing the stage. Both rows are exclusive for Pulled, set aside from the Vampires. Everybody who was pulled in arrived wearing whatever they last had on. If an outfit was too revealing, damaged, or just not comfortable, then Pulled are offered a silken robe and slippers to wear instead.

Whether a waitress or bartender addresses a Pulled, they refer to them as their Myddvai Breed. "What would you like to drink, Elf?" "You look like a hungry Rahuth! How about something from the kitchen?" and so on. All Pulled take on recognizable characteristics native to Myddvai, features determined by the Pull of the universe. Any who ask are told that features are likely to continue to manifest the longer they're on Myddvai. Some Pulled might also experience their form shifting wildly between different breeds and are assured that will settle down eventually. This kind of transformation isn't painful, only strange to experience. Pulled can get told all the basic information available on Myddvai breeds at this time.

Pulled have plenty of time to chat just among themselves at the bar. If endless, freely provided alcohol isn't enough to loosen the tongue, then perhaps sharing a meal will? Pulled are required to order food as pairs or parties, individual requests won't be served. The menu is distinctly lacking in grains, dairy, and red meat, exclusively having vegetable dishes and various seafood on offer. It's all very flavorful and filling, seasoned well, and delivered warm.

If you're facing the stage, there's plenty more being pulled in... and come to find out, not everybody is allowed to stay.

The Ice Storm

Watch and it becomes clear that the ritual doesn't always result in worthwhile Pulled.

The room swells as the pair of powerful beings do each half of the summons. Ives steadies his staff and draws in the smoke generated by Ydris, who looks entirely different. Their human illusion is dropped during a summoning, showing their true form as a fantastical, wax-bodied being of fire and metal. Flames all swirl intensely, creating a smoke that is wound into concentrated magical strings of energy. These lines are what pull people out from their worlds, causing a void in reality from which they arrive through. The tear is quickly stitched back together by those same thread, weaving the space back together again behind the new arrival.

If a Pulled is deemed unworthy, Ives points the staff at them. A flash of light overtakes the entire room. The Vampires appear to all know just the time to duck or hide their eyes when this happens. Except a certain Sir Goodpoint the flash is his favorite part.

After this light dissipates, the person is gone. Seemingly returned home. One would... hope. The next ritual begins again, people stay or go. There seems to be a completely unknown ranking system at play. The Vampires casually mention how many Stars someone is worth in passing. Not everybody chosen has a high rank by this measure, so that doesn't seem to be the deciding factor.

A semi-regular occurrence is the Ice Storm. This is when an unwanted character is Pulled multiple times and everybody in attendance has gotten just so fed up with seeing them. One of the front-row Vampires seems to have started a trend, that of plucking an ice cube from their drink and throwing it at the offending Pulled. Basically, everybody in the audience takes this as a great opportunity to pelt the unwanted Pulled until Ives makes them go away, jeering and booing are optional.

All Pulled in the audience are given cups of ice, wordlessly encouraged to participate. Nobody subjected to the Ice Storm is allowed to remain. Any who stand to object to this will get the Ice Storm directed at themselves, instead. It won't get a Pulled who was already chosen sent back home, but they will get a good pelting for their trouble.

It also makes for a progressively funnier show as new Pulled appear and slip on the remains of the previous Ice Storm. Glad that wasn't you, right? Or maybe it was and now you understand why...


OOC Notes

Welcome to the Test Drive Meme for Myddvai's First Season!

This post is Open To All for play, both those with and without invites to our game are welcome to play in this space.

Players are allowed to play around with their character as any of the available breeds while on the TDM. TDM breed choice does not need to match an application. All threads from the TDM can remain canon even if breed is changed later when applying to game. The lore reason for this would be instability of a character's form when first pulled in. Breed choice cannot currently be changed once within the game, so choose wisely when applying!

As a reminder, TDM participation is a required part of our Application to join. Both top leveling your characters and tagging around is encouraged!

For those without Invites who are interested in applying, feel free to join our discord and inquire about potentially receiving an invite.

All Mod Invited Players are allowed to extend unlimited invites to those they wish.

For those with invitations, Reservations are open along with this TDM! Please put in a Reservation if you are intending to join the game.

Applications open on the 1st of February and priority will be given to Reserved players. The first round of acceptances to the game will go out Feb. 4th along with an IC Introduction Event.

Not sure what Breed you want to pick for your character? Head over to our Design Workshop! Moderation and other potential players would be happy to help brainstorm.

code bases by tricklet

Comments

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce | Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel | Human

[hard_decisions]

I. Pulled

[He remembers staring into Fred's face, as she whispered lovingly to him and kissed him. He remembers thinking that Illyria was a convincing actor after all. He remembers the pain fading, the light dimming, the dull cold in his fingers. He remembers-

A bright spotlight in his eyes.

What?

"Charming."

What?

His hands feel over his chest and torso. His black turtleneck was torn and bloodied, but the skin underneath was whole. As afterlives go, this was... not what he expected. He only numbly listens to what Ydris and Ives say, shuffling off the stage obediently when he's told, still in a confused daze.]

II. Audience.

[Unlike many of the other Pulled, Wesley seems to attract little attention from the Vampires- apparently, he's not interesting enough to warrant it. He'll probably either sit or stand awkwardly on his own like a giant freaking dweeb, unless a fellow Pulled takes pity on him and invites him to a group instead.]

III. Bar.

[At the bar, Wesley doesn't seem terribly preoccupied with getting an order put in. No, he's currently keenly observing the others around him, taking in as much information as he can about the locals and the other Pulled. When he's finally asked about his order, he seems to snap out of it.]

What?

[Right, orders only in groups, he's picked up on that much already.]

Oh- oh, yes. Another of whatever you're getting will be fine.

IV. Ice.

[Wesley is continuing to keep a fairly quiet presence as the unwanted potential Pulled are repeatedly pelted with ice, but it's obviously making him fairly uncomfortable, and he's not very good at hiding it. Fortunately, whatever pragmatism is keeping him from making a scene seems to be holding.]

II. Audience

[brokenroots]

[During a break from the summoning ritual, Ives enters the crowd to head towards the bar. The rat vampire stops him and they briefly chat, but it seems tense at best. Hostile, maybe. When Ives steps past the vampire, he catches Wesley sitting alone at a table. Call it herd instincts, but he feels compelled to sit and join him just from that.]

I wouldn't want to sit with any of these blood suckers, either. Even if you should.

[hard_decisions]

[There's a grim chuckle at that comment.]

Apologies. That just strikes me as rather funny. For personal reasons.

[He adjusts his posture in his chair to face Ives, though he's still not quite looking at him.]

So tell me. If they're bloodsuckers, what exactly are you?

[brokenroots]

I am many things, sir. A very old soul, for one. [he means this supremely literally]

Long lost is my taste for blood. I would rather it only be drawn if there is no other choice. Many here would do so for a simple thrill, so... do mind yourself.

[hard_decisions]

I assure you, the one thing I absolutely have not felt since I arrived in this room is safe.

[He finally regards Ives directly, though he tries not to make too obvious a show of looking him up and down. After a moment, he regards the room again.]

Why are they important, exactly? I think I've worked out what they want from you- or, us, I suppose- but what is it that you want from them?

[brokenroots]

They have resources and we have prestige. They're in this for clout and recognition. We need their bounty of money, supplies, connections... [Wesley's hesitance doesn't phase Ives much, in fact, it's smart. This is a lot to be thrust into and they're not being given much of choice. They could step away, live in the world as any other citizen, but that doesn't get them home.

Skepticism is a wise reaction, Ives can recognize as much.]

Call it a necessary evil.

[hard_decisions]

[So his guess was correct, then. They were the racehorses being bet on. The fact that his new... benefactors... had to play along for resources? That was valuable information.]

Believe me, I'm all too familiar with 'necessary evils.'

[He'd had about all of them he could stomach, and that was before somebody stuck a knife in his.]

If it's any consolation at all, I'm not being deliberately antisocial, I seem to simply not be anybody's favorite yet.

[With another grim chuckle, he adds-]

Perhaps once they get to know me.

[brokenroots]

A wallflower strategy won't serve you too well.

[Ives looks around, considering the vampires in attendance. Hm...]

What is your favorite animal? [that's a place to start, isn't it?]

Bar

[whycantistay]

[It's not entirely like her to wind up at a place like this, but having just recently acquired a whole new lab at a schnazzy place like Wolfram and Hart means that she doesn't have a lot of time to just go to the bar. Really, Fred isn't the type to anyway. But this is a whole new world, right?

Plus there's a friendly enough figure that she would spot just about anywhere. It's the first familiar anything Fred's stumbled upon, and she can't help the almost sigh of relief when she pops up on the bar right next to him.]

Umm? Something sweet? With those little cherries on top. [She orders like she would really prefer dessert right now, but then suddenly remembers her manners.] Please.

[But her attention is pulled back to Wesley, and she offers a smile like she really doesn't know her own fate.]

Glad to see someone I know. Last dimension I was unwittingly pulled to, I was enslaved, and you know, it was a hell dimension. [So far this is marginally better. He was here though. That makes it a lot better actually.]

OH N O.

[hard_decisions]

[There's a moment of stunned staring. Okay, it's actually quite a long moment. It's downright undignified, even.

After a moment, however, he finally stops gawping, and his stare hardens.]

Stop it.

[whycantistay]

[The bartender seems to understand enough of what Fred wants before going to mix the drinks. She looks more or less pleased, turning her attention back to him...

And the way he's staring at her. Sure, she might have caught him looking before, but this is remarkably different. She blinks at him, awkwardly adjusting a stray hair. She's not sure what she's supposed to do before he speaks.]

Stop... what? [She's genuinely confused.]

[hard_decisions]

[The confusion throws him. It seems so real. Seems genuine. And there's a part of him, a giant, desperate, screaming part of him, that wants more than anything for it to be true.

But then, maybe that's why he's so loathe to believe it. He knows how flawless the act can be. His voice softens slightly, but his face stays grim.]

You know perfectly well what, Illyria. Stop being...

[He trails off, looking away.]

Please.

[whycantistay]

[She's seen him go to some dark places before, having lived through enough. Fred hasn't seen this. She hasn't seen him go this low before. She immediately knows she doesn't like it. The bartender sets the drinks down, but he's quick to get back out of there, sensing the tension. Fingers idly touch at the corners of the glass, frowning.]

Who is Illyria? Wesley, it's me. It's Fred. [There's something about the way he says that name that almost chills her to the bone though. It's like something happens, something she's not sure she wants to know now, but he's looking at her with pain, with hatred, and she doesn't want him to ever look at her like that.]

What's freakier than inexplicably paranoid Wes? *Physically expressive Wes.*

[hard_decisions]

[Something about that was wrong. Her reaction was-

Illyria could feign concern, she could feign confusion, she could even feign ignorance, but the one thing Illyria would never feign, least of all to Wesley, was frailty- there was never a need, and it was the trait about her humanity that she resented the most.

That- that wasn't her. Which meant....]

... Fred?

[He'd resigned himself to never seeing her again, but-

He doesn't even realize he's pulling her into a hug until it happens. A little too urgent, a little too tight, as if he was afraid she would vanish at any moment..]

ice

[illyria]

[ It's taken her this long to gain her bearings; she'd found herself here without even a hint of her former powers, not even the echoes that had remained once she'd become confined to one space and time. It was as though she couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't breathe in this form, and she'd lashed out ineffectually until she she realized she'd been somehow changed again.

She looked down at her skin, now taking on a metallic pearly sheen, with something between curiosity and horror. The Shell was still recognizable beneath it all, but she looked no more human than she had before. Her hair had gone black, laced with silver where the blue had been, and two tiny broken horns have begun to peek out near the front of it. The only thing unchanged is her armor, though it's no longer a part of her -- merely clothing. She'd like to tear it off in a rage, but she'd handed a cup of ice and encouraged to ineffectually throw it at the lesser creatures before they are unsummoned.

She's about to hiss her disdain at some passerby before stalking off when she spots a familiar face. She would never admit to feeling such a low emotion as relief, but it's good that he's here. She approaches him quietly, not wishing to draw any more attention to herself or to him so long as this absurd display continues. ]

Wesley. How have we come here? This place is ill-suited to me.

[ She can't even change what she looks like. This cannot go on. ]

[hard_decisions]

[She looks different- hauntingly alien despite the hint of familiarity. Of course, Illyria's typical form had once been the same to him. How quickly we adjust.

If there had been any doubt about who she was from her bearing, her demeanor, the ghosts of Fred's face in her own... it was all immediately banished as soon as she spoke.

He lets out a slow sigh.]

I'm not certain it fits any of us, I'm afraid. I know no more than you.

[It was odd, seeing her here, with the same scorn and disdain as always for the things around her. The memory of dying in her arms was still... fresh in his mind. Best not to bring it up, he suspects.]

[illyria]

[ She certainly isn't going to bring it up. She's not entirely certain it wasn't all some dying hallucination of the human mind whose threads were irrevocably woven throughout her own. She'd gone into that alley to avenge him only to lose consciousness at some point and arrive here; the fact that he's alive hasn't quite outranked the fresh horror of being stuck here in a body once again changed without her consent. ]

I lack access to my power. They've made me into this and I cannot change back. It is intolerable.

[ Especially since she still seems disgustingly capable of feeling emotions other than rage toward her circumstances and the audacity of lesser life forms. Give her a minute, Wesley, and you might see a glimmer of the god-king who grieved for you. ]

[hard_decisions]

[There was a time, not too long in Wesley's past, when Illyria being so easily stripped of her power would be a cause for relief. Now, however, the thought actually fills him with a certain dread.

Not only because he no longer had the potent (if mercurial) ally he'd become- despite his own misgivings- somewhat accustomed to, but because that meant the beings who brought them here were capable of so effortlessly stripping Illyria of her potency. If even she couldn't overcome this place, they were truly at the mercy of their new hosts.]

It will be temporary, if the secretary is to be believed. To a being such as you, I'm sure the timescale will be infinitesimal.

[It's the most pragmatic comfort he can offer. Not that he's certain why he feels the need to reassure her, but he does all the same.]

[illyria]

Perhaps we've no further use for one another, then. You know no more than I.

[ She would never be able to identify the impulse that caused her to speak the very opposite of what she wanted. Self-preservation as an emotional concept she hasn't gotten to yet, and if it were she'd likely intentionally defy it.

But she looks away from him as she speaks, not quite wanting to give him the opportunity to see whatever expression this form is capable of making should he agree. She can no longer trust her own face, and it's enraging enough to make her crush the cup of ice in her hand without really noticing she's done so. ]

[hard_decisions]

Perhaps you're right.

[The thought makes him feel oddly empty- as if he's already grown accustomed to having her nearby again, and her absence would feel like a loss. The thought surprises him. He suspects it would only upset her- she's already more volatile than she's letting on, judging by the cracking sound from her cup- so he keeps it to himself.]

But it's possible that there's a practical benefit to our continued alliance nonetheless. Thus far, they seem to reward networking and punish isolation. It could be that solitude will be dangerous, especially in your... present state.

[...that's as delicately as he can put it, but he suspects it will still provoke an unpleasant reaction- she's never liked having her limitations pointed out, and having even more strict limits is unlikely to improve her mood.]

iv. Ice

[fivebooktrilogy]

[ Another Pulled sitting nearby notes Wesley's discomfort. Nod, for his part, has been given a glass of ice, but has opted to merely hold it; he's doing a better job than Wesley of not looking too uncomfortable with the activity, but he's clearly not participating either.

Although maybe that's because he needs both arms holding his new squirrel-tail down to keep it from inadvertently knocking anything else over. ]

...It's rather remarkable that they have such free access to ice, mn? It almost seems wasteful.

[ He sounds unsure if he should be speaking up at all, but the opportunity to make a pass-agg comment on the others' behavior is too much temptation. ]

[hard_decisions]

[That gets a slightly bitter chuckle.]

Well, at least we warrant pulling out all the stops.

[fivebooktrilogy]

[ Nod quiets again for a bit. He sounds more musing when he speaks again. ]

...They're probably pelting the repeats instead of the two who keep summoning the "wrong people" because they know better than to anger magic-workers they have to live with after...

[hard_decisions]

The entire thing seems to be a few steps removed from a combination of auction house and floor show.

[He nods over toward the 'vampires-' though he still finds that description of these things utterly absurd- as they attempt to coerce fresh Pulled to sit with them.]

They're investors, I think, and we're the stocks.

[fivebooktrilogy]

[ Nod glances over the scene again, this time with this viewpoint in mind... hm. ]

Mn, I can see all this being disturbing from that point of view...

[ He's not sure if he agrees with the assessment, but it's not without merit either. ]

...I don't suppose it'd help to think of us as contestants, and their attention as trying to figure out who to root for? Or perhaps sponsor... I'm not entirely sure what we are to them, beyond "new and exciting".