TEST DRIVE #2

[collectedmods]

TEST DRIVE #2

Hi shoppers! Welcome to the second Test Drive Meme for COLLECTED. A few things before we get started:

» This TDM is open to any players who are interested in applying. Collected is an invite-only game, meaning that invites come from being on the mod plurklists, but for this round, our TDM is open to anyone who has an interest. If you are interested in applying but do not have an invite, please PM our mod account (collectedmods) with a link to your toplevel on this TDM and we will extend an invitation to you! Please note that you can only reserve and apply if you have an invite.

» As was the case in the first TDM, TDM threads are not canon. Because of this, feel free to assume CR for the ease of threads.

» While we’ve listed out some prompts here, feel free to make up your own prompts using the setting, or use any of the prompts from our last TDM as well!

» If you have any questions about what you can and can’t do (or about anything else) reply to the QUESTIONS comment below, and we’ll get back to you soon.

Most importantly, have fun! And thank you so much for your interest in Collected! 🧡

PROMPTS

Have you ever been to a parking lot circus? Well, they exist, and you’re in luck - the circus has come to town! Or rather, it’s come to the mall. For a limited time, a big top has appeared in the dusty, desolate parking lot of the mall. You’ll find a big tunnel vacuum sealed to the front doors of the mall that allows access to and from the tent, so how much could it hurt to go inside?

The tunnel and tent seem to have been crafted with the same skill as the mall was - it somehow keeps the toxic air from outside out. The only difference between the mall and the tent is that the big top doesn’t do as good of a job of keeping the blistering heat out - it’ll protect you from burns, but it’s going to be pretty hot in there underneath the summer sun! Be sure to bring a cold drink on your way in.

Inside the tent, you won’t find any staff or performers, unfortunately. Everything inside the tent seems to be in mint condition, though, strangely enough, as though restored to its former glory - not unlike how some of the stores in the abandoned mall revert back to their pristine states sometimes. While there’s no performance to catch, there is plenty to look at and experience:

I.

Right after coming in through the fun tunnel, the first thing to your right is a collection of popcorn machines, the same kind you’d see at an amusement park where kernels must be poured in. You’ll find several unmarked bags of popcorn right near the machines, and they look decidedly not rotten, unlike most of the food in the mall.

Things are never that easy and simple here, though! Pop a bag of these bad boys and consume some of it and you’ll find yourself with one of the following afflictions:

A. Caramel corn flavor: Loss of sight. Hopefully you trust your companion enough not to attack or steal from you, because you’ll need to navigate to somewhere safe until this one wears off!
B. Extra butter flavor: Loss of hearing. No matter how hard you try, it seems you can’t hear anything around you anymore! Learn to communicate non-verbally with your companion, and quick!
C. Cheddar flavor: Literally just food poisoning. You won’t be feeling so hot!

The only saving grace of these cursed popcorn bags is that there’s an antidote to be found if you have a careful eye: an inscription on the popcorn machines appears once they’ve been warmed from use, and it says, in the case of illness, have a taste of each flavor to get back to square one! You’ll have to suffer a bit more to get back to normal quickly, but.. it’s better than waiting out the effects, right?

II.

While there are no performers to be seen, their costumes can be found in the wardrobes in the back of the circus. They are typical of what you’d expect of a circus: colorful, frilly, and easy to put on, given their stretch. There are even props and accessories lying around like clown noses, jewelry, hula hoops, juggling balls, the whole nine yards. Given the horrible state of all the clothes and other fun items inside the mall, it might be tempting to take some of these outfits and items to repurpose them for your own wardrobe and use.

But be careful: donning these clothes or taking these items will give you the abilities of that circus performer. Wear or pick up anything belonging to a:

A. Clown, and you’ll feel like you need to make your companion laugh. Whether that’s through corny jokes, physical comedy, or other means, you won’t be able to resist.
B. Trapeze artist, and you’ll be blessed with great flexibility, and feel utterly fearless. Maybe that translates into being unafraid to speak your mind, or maybe you’re feeling brave enough to walk the tightrope - either way, nothing’s scaring you anymore.
C. Animal tamer, and you’ll want to train your companion to do tricks and follow your will (and not in the fun way, unless you’re into that).

Costumes of all kinds are here, though, so feel free to find anything that might belong to a circus performer and have the costumes possess you!

III.

All good things must come to an end, sadly. Whatever material the tent and tunnel is made of is not completely as sturdy as what the mall is built of - and after a fun day of activities, the tent and tunnel will begin to deteriorate and be destroyed.

Due to the radioactive sun outside, the top of the tent and tunnel will start to burn and get holes in it eventually, which will let in toxic air and harmful rays - not only that, but fires will start catching inside the tent as well. You’ll need to high tail it out of the circus and head back to the safety of the mall unless you want to fry in the horrible conditions outside. Exposure to the sunlight from outside will give you painful burns and welts, and it’s near impossible to inhale the thick, poisonous air from outside without keeling over.

While you’ll be able to survive limited exposure, it’s not wise to get stuck out here. Besides, you’ll find that upon returning to the mall, your wounds will mysteriously begin to heal, slowly and painfully. So, run quickly, and make sure not to leave anyone behind!

NAVIGATION

Comments

[goldenize]

[ harrow's promise is- unexpected, but not unwelcome. definitely not unwelcome. if nothing else, she can point to this moment and grind her necromancer's face into it every time it comes up from here on out. and maybe it's that small amelioration that makes her willing to take harrow at her word. not blindly, of course. but-

this isn't what harrowhark nonagesimus looks like when she's hiding something in silence. this is a harrow who's evaluated the evidence and found it didn't apply. ]

Alright. [ hearing an agreement from harrow's lips, even when she's the one forming the words, feels sacrilegious. like a blessed sister is about to rap her knuckles with a ruler made of bone. ] So you came here straight from Canaan House, and I came here from across the galaxy. So you're saying... what, time travel? Is that even a thing?

[ a beat. and then, in a flat tone that just might still carry a bit of the actual worry behind it: ]

Tell me that's not a thing.

[goldenize]

Yeah? The big burning ball in the sky. For it to be this bright, it'd have to be Sixth or Seventh-

[ sabriel does a few things at once that catch gideon's interest. for one, she steps closer, close enough that gideon can finally make out shapes and colors through her sun-scarred vision. close enough that gideon is able to catch the bobbed hair with an appreciative glance, and to only feel a little embarrassed when she realizes why the bobbed look is catching her eye so distinctly.

but more importantly, sabriel starts off by listing a bunch of places she's never heard of, and then she asks if the first house is a guild. ]

What? No. Holy shit. [ she's almost too stunned to elaborate past that. almost. ] No, it's- the First House of the Empire? Like, the Empire of the Emperor? The Emperor Undying, the Necrolord Prime, King of the Nine Renewals, Giver of Resurrection, et cetera, et cetera?

[ she's pretty sure she only remembers that because of the terrible comics. which is good, because if sabriel is religious, she's pretty sure she might have just committed a little light sacrilege.

well, he deserves it. fuck that guy. ]

[bindsthedead]

You mean the sun. [Sabriel's expression is politely blank as Gideon starts speaking, but her eyes narrow at 'Necrolord' and she frowns deeply at 'Resurrection', memories of an underclassman's revived rabbit and certain passages of The Book Of the Dead passing through her head, and she tenses, hands reaching again for her bells, though she doesn't undo the straps.

But the woman in front of her isn't a necromancer- she lacks the bells, although beneath the face paint it's hard to tell if she has the telltale pallor, like Sabriel. But then, she also hasn't recognized what Sabriel's bells signify either, that they are implements of necromantic power.]

Is he just shoving Dead spirits into corpses, or actually bringing people back to true life? Because the former is something any necromancer can do, and the former- [Sabriel almost says 'it's disturbingly easy' but catches herself before the words escape.] That requires an additional form of magic, used in combination with necromancy.

[skeletonize]

( if anything, the promise is hubris. she's thinking that whatever it is, she can force herself to handle it.

but perhaps the reason why she feels emboldened to do something like that is because, regardless of what happened and for what purpose, gideon is standing before her — the core of her being is currently not being burned for all eternity in a lyctoral crucible. of course, the issue of her being in harrow's body is another existential nightmare, but knowing that she hasn't been utterly consumed takes some of the edge off of the overwhelming guilt and despair.

up until this point, harrow had been keeping the analytical portion of her brain pinned down by force, but her grasp over that had only ever been finite. now she turns and begins to pace, one hand at her chin, mentally observing the issue from all angles. ) Don't be absurd. This isn't one of your science-fiction rags. ( actually, given the full picture of everything that was going on, it really could be, but... no, harrowhark was not going to accept something like that. it was simply too pedestrian; a warped misunderstanding of what seems to be at play here. she is certainly no metaphysicist, but she has an idea that seems to make more sense. )

Imagine, instead, that during our time at Canaan House, a copy of myself was created, split away from the First, and brought here. Entirely unwitting of what had occurred, the original Harrowhark continues on throughout — everything you have described — to the point the same happened for you on, what was it you said, the "most fucked-up, awful, very bad day of your fucking life"? ( at this point she stops, turning over one shoulder to look with faint discomfort at her shades-wearing body double. ) This is, of course, all conjecture. I have been here roughly a month, by my estimate, and we still do not have an answer as to how we were brought here, or for what purpose. It doesn't matter. What matters is: we are both here by means through which we can assume what we know and remember has not been tampered with by an external source.

( a beat, and then: )

Who the fuck was stupid enough to try to assassinate God?

[goldenize]

[ this close, gideon can actually see the reaction play across sabriel's face. the frown goes uncommented on; the hand dropping to the bells elicits the same movement from gideon. she's not raising the sword, not yet, but she's certainly in position to do so if it becomes necessary. ]

Mostly he's busy keeping the sun on and making the shittiest jokes imaginable. Past that... it's both. Not that I could tell you much about it. Shit, you're really asking the wrong person for details.

[ she's not entirely sure they're talking about the same concept here, to be honest. ]

[goldenize]

Two lyctors. Dulcinea Septimus, by which I mean the corpse of the lyctor pretending to be her, again. And, uh. My mom.

[ it sounds like it could be the punchline to some terrible cosmic joke. it is absolutely not delivered like one. if anything, it sounds mostly like gideon would rather fucking die than elaborate right now. which is probably why she rotates straight back into harrow's explanation of- ]

Got it. So just stele-free travel and perfect, living clones, nothing stupid like time travel. That's reassuring. [ but she's not actually trying to argue with harrow right now, and she's more than happy to nod as the explanation finishes sinking in. ] Hey, works for me. We can worry about the how later, right? Right now, we're both stuck here. That's what matters.

[ whoa, hey. that sounded... kind of reassuring? don't get her wrong, nonagesimus. that was absolutely not intended to be reassuring. any tones of gratefulness for be able to see harrowhark nonagesimus again are entirely imagined.

god, she's so close she could reach out and touch her. she very nearly does. ]

[bindsthedead]

What. [Keeping the sun on doesn't sound like necromancy, and Sabriel freezes, trying to puzzle through what the other woman means.]

That- what does that even mean? The sun- doesn't need any help to do that.

[skeletonize]

...Oh. ( what? the fuck? ) A revenant? ( she can't think of any other explanation; she has seen gideon's mother's bones herself, interred in one of innumerable drearburh burial niches. God, but that she had been dead before harrow had even been born. what kind of revenant...

there is so much to break apart and break down in those few sentences that for a full ten seconds, harrow completely whites out, reverting to crass, base instincts. ) I see. Well, that must have been quite an Oedipal conundrum for you, then.

( AND THE FUCKED UP THING IS THAT SHE JUST MEANS HER ASSUMPTION THAT HER MOTHER (A REVENANT) WAS POSSESSING THE BODY OF A WOMAN SHE KNEW GIDEON TO HAVE FANCIED (who was not dulcinea septimus?? a lyctor?!), AND DOESN'T EVEN INFRINGE UPON WHAT SHE DOES NOT KNOW, WHICH IS THAT THE TARGET OF SAID ASSASSINATION WOULD BE HER FATHER—

regardless, as calmly as she had said it, harrow is convinced that within the next ten seconds, she will have her own lifeblood leaking from her ears, soon leading to death by catastrophic brain hemorrhaging. her promise to gideon would mean nothing if her brain gave up on its own. )

You know nothing you've said makes any sense.

( she lifts both hands to knead at her temples. two lyctors (and the corpse of a third), attempting to kill God? that's impossible. his Fingers and Gestures were not and should not be capable (and perhaps that was why it had only been an attempt). she is still attempting to stymie a skull-cracking headache, eyes squeezed shut, when she continues in an exhausted tone, ) It's merely the explanation that best suits the facts at hand.

( she lowers her hands, and her eyes open. she looks to the air above them, as if everything gideon had said had manifested there, monolithic, like a colossal fuck-off rosetta stone which she would have to spend the next few hours — days — weeks? — transcribing information to divine understanding and meaning from. but if she began doing that now, she would be useless (or possibly soon dead). so she forces herself to turn away from it, for now, and she instead turns to gideon. she is silent for a moment here, the blockage of her throat returning; she is disgustingly close to becoming sentimental. but this is harrowhark nonagesimus we are talking about, and no manner of emotionally-fraught pool-bound confessions would make that mutable. )

In any case. Though you arrive late, and in an incredibly inopportune state, ( which, looking at her now, is threatening to make her complete her long, slow journey to "stark raving mad" with record speed, merely considering the implications, ) it's — good, that you're finally here.

( a necromancer without her cavalier is a sorry thing. )

[damnpire]

"You have a sword," is all he gives for reasoning. There are other things about Sabriel which let him make an educated guess, but the sword is perhaps one of the defining attributes of someone who is prepared to fight, he thinks.

"I hunt vampires," he adds, almost like an afterthought.

Which is kind of hilarious to think about considering what he just said about being half of one.

[313_248_317_60]

Ignorance was a better excuse than most. Under other circumstances, it might even have deflected Connor's vitriol. At present? The human's mistakes had already all but vanished from his concerns.

At least in comparison to the rippling, impossible pain coming from his injury.

Connor's not a deviant. He's not, and he stands rigidly, perfectly still as the liquid flesh bubbles slowly back in place. He wouldn't want to give the wrong impression.

"No."

Cosmetic damage would self-repair, yes. But not so quickly—not like this. (Why is she asking?) It takes an embarrassingly long time for Connor to register the slow regrowth of flesh across the human's cheek, but when he does, his voice sharpens—like a lifeline snapping tight.

"You're saying..."

[313_248_317_60]

[Under other circumstances, Connor would have taken this moment to inform the human of his impending food poisoning. But his chemical analysis turned up no signs of decay or toxins. Strange, considering how much else has rotted in this place.]

Suit yourself.

[His gaze pans over the machine in a quick scan. There are a few fingerprints, but none on the cart's handles—more likely other captives seeking food than whoever brought the machine in. He logs them for comparison regardless, taking a step around to check the other side. There's something written in fine print along the table's edge. A manufacturer?

Static fizzles across Connor's vision, disrupting his scan. He blinks, LED swimming yellow as he tries to refresh it.]

Have you been here long?

[313_248_317_60]

[You can tell the moment Connor realizes what he's walked into. You can tell, because the faint boredom of his neutral expression goes considerably flatter.]

Hilarious.

[313_248_317_60]

[Neither can Connor. His head slants critically, as he stares up at her new position.]

The odds of your survival were less than eighteen percent.

[Not sure if curious or disappointed.]

[damnpire]

If you'd like.

[Well, she can't see him, but he does not appear to be bothered by the fact she is able to keep track of him. It's not a bad skill to have? He can respect that.

Especially regarding someone like him.]

It will wear off in time. [It sounds like he is purposefully dodging the question, very D.] The machines tell you to taste each flavor to return to the beginning.

[Another voice suddenly interjects, but it doesn't at all sound like D's voice. It's croaky and old, and it says,] Afraid to give me a little credit, huh? Pah! I ate those fair and square, you know! [But D does not respond to the voice.]

[strictpress]

Hm.

[She grins to herself. Cocky despite a crippling fear of heights, she climbs down the the tightrope pole, jumping the last 10 feet to the ground.]

Well. The odds can suck it.

[313_248_317_60]

[A fluid descent. Especially for a human. Curiosity wins out, and he scans her more closely, looking for signs of intoxication.]

You said you were afraid of heights?

[bindsthedead]

"That whatever's happening is affecting both of us." How similar are androids to humans? What are androids, anyway? The man in front of her looks human, but apparently isn't- but is clearly neither Dead nor especially magical.

Sabriel grimaces, partially in frustration, but mostly from pain. With deliberate effort, she keeps her voice even.

"I'm familiar with ways to speed the healing process- but healing spells generally suppress pain, not cause more of it." Such magic was made to ease suffering. This... at least it will be over sooner than if the wounds were healing naturally.

[bindsthedead]

Sabriel is a necromancer (technically) whose duties involve hunting down other necromancers. The idea of fighting fire with fire doesn't strike her as particularly strange.

"Have you seen any around here?" She hasn't sensed any Dead creatures nearby- aside from the man in front of her, who doesn't count. But if there are... best to be prepared.

Yachiyo Tsuruhime | Revue Starlight

[glitterwar]

Arrival

[Oddly enough, it's the suffocating heat that makes Yachiyo realize that she might not be in her own world. After all, the underground stage for the auditions had taken many forms before so finding herself suddenly inside a circus tent wasn't all that surprising. However, it was the scorching sun and foul stench of sweat and dust that made everything feel very real. It wasn't nothing like being caught in a disappearing play.

Yet she was still wearing her revue uniform and had her crossbow on her.]

Oh my. Just what have gotten myself into. [She laughs lightly and places her free hand on her cheek as if she had just taken a wrong turn in mall or something alike. An amused smile stayed on her lips, hiding away any sign of discomfort that she could possibly feel, as she wandered further into the tent.]

I wonder if anyone has seen a talking giraffe around.

Pop pop popcorn

[Well, it wouldn't be a fair if there wasn't junkfood around now would it? Yachiyo is intrigued by the popcorn, mostly because they seem to be the only thing resembling food that she had been able to find.

She picks one of the popcorn bags to inspect its contents. While the popcorn itself doesn't seem to appear to be anything outside of ordinary Yachiyo can't help but feel suspicious. After all, there was no staff to be seen so just who had prepared these?

Yachiyo looked around to see if there happens to be anyone around and then sighs out loud:]

Aahhh, I'm full. [Then she turns around the closest person and offers some popcorn.] Want some? They are quite delicious.

Fashion

[Ah. Oh no.

Of course this place has Yachiyo's one true weakness and passion on plain sight and ready to be taken: costumes.

Yachiyo can be found going through all the costumes she can find. She inspects the quality of the fabric and other accessories, sorting outfits in different piles. Yeah, she's definitely having time of her life in her own little corner.

Unfortunately, that passion for clothing is strong enough to make her ignore that suspicion she had with popcorn.]

A - No fear!

[The first outfit she tries on is a purple trapeze artist one. At first she only admirers herself in the outfit from the dusty full-body mirror she found close to the costumes. She picks a hula-hoop and strikes a pose and then an another. But then she starts feel more... adventurous, lets say. The first she tries to do few basic tricks with her hula-hoop. Being a stage girl means that she already is fairly agile and flexible but now the way she moves her body is on a whole new level. It's like her body became light as a weather and knew no boundaries or limits.

After trying out few tricks she grows more daring and turns her attention to the worn tight rope that's set near the ceiling. It doesn't really look all that secure as there's not even safety net set. But for a reason or another that only excites Yachiyo even more. It's like a challenge.

She walks up to closest person and winks at them.]

Hello. Care to give me a hand?

B - Let me hear you roar!

[You'd think that after first try one would give up on playing with the enchanted, or rather cursed, clothes. However, Yachiyo couldn't help but be intrigued by all the possibilities and potential that these outfits had. Oh, just what kind of performance she could put up! Just what all could she learn from these little experiments.

So, when you least expect it a loud sound of whip cracking can be heard from behind you. Yachiyo is standing behind you wearing a rather daring outfit, a grin on her lips that matches the nature of her look.]

Well, well. What do we have here. [Her voice sounding overly sweet and full of dangerous honey. She cracks the whip again -- this time aiming closer to the person she's addressing. If there's something in their hands, be it popcorn, a prop or something more personal, the whip is aimed towards it intending to knock it out of the person's hands.]

Are we lost from the show?

[damnpire]

If there is any way at all to sound reassuring in his usual flat tone of voice, D says, "Not yet." But it feels reassuring, if anything.

Her question begs him to ask one of his own, though: "Have you seen any Dead?"

Re: QUESTIONS

[bindsthedead]

Would characters sensitive to the supernatural/spirits notice anything off/odd about the general surroundings of the mall/the circus?

[darkbound]

"Mana stones"?

[ her tone screams "what are you talking about?" and yet, he still seems to make a little more sense than other people around here. at least he's not talking about stuff like "science" and "electricity". ]

The only magic stones I know of are the Primal Stones. You know, the ones that pull from the Primal Sources?

[ please tell her you know what she's talking about, figaro...! ]

[darkbound]

Man...everyone keeps saying that around here!

[ technology isn't really a word that she'd really heard of before getting here. medieval times and all. ]

I'm still trying to wrap my head around how "technology" works. All this stuff never existed back where I'm from. This world is just so...advanced, in almost every way! It's crazy.

[bindsthedead]

Well, most of it runs on electricity, like the lights- or it burns coal or some other fuel.

[Sabriel... isn't the best person to explain this. Technology had never been of much interest to her, beyond the fact that it worked if you kept it away from magic.]

The important thing to remember is that magic tends to break it. [At least, in Sabriel's experience.] I admit, this technology seems... far beyond what I'm familiar with. And some of it still works despite long periods of neglect.

[bindsthedead]

"So far, I haven't sensed anything." But Sabriel can't believe this place is entirely mundane- not with the unnaturally quick, painful healing, or people mysteriously appearing despite there being no sign of... anything outside the building except for the circus.

"But something about the whole thing seems... unnatural."