2nd Event: Choices We Make

[upcyclingmod]

Welcome to the Test Drive Meme.
| Premise | FAQ | Full Navigation | Rules | Reserves |

Arrival


Not all characters (known as Wickie, singular or Wickies, plural) arrive at the same time, surprisingly enough! That’s life for you. Some Wickies find their way to the island at a pivotal (or very mundane) point in their life, or even after or during their death.

Wickies who were standing or walking often find themselves entering the town South Sister, located on Lighthouse Isle, through an open doorway. Those that were laying down, or sleeping, tend to be found lying prone in beds, bathtubs, showers, couches, and similar places within the cottages on Cottage Row. There’s no rhyme or reason to it all! To Wickies familiar with the era, they will realize that everything looks as if it’s come from the ‘90s.

The house which a Wickie finds themselves within could already be occupied. This includes walking into a fellow Wicke, waking up in the same location, or accidentally scaring a room full of people with their sudden appearance.

Oops.

C-C-Changes

Thankfully the fog has gone down to what it was before, a slow creeping crawl over the ground. And too, the monsters of before are gone, leaving the town much like it was before. Well...close to what it was before.

For now the season's have changed, from a lingering summer to a cooler fall.

There’s new foods to try, even if some things like lattes cause people to slip into warm boots and tie up their hair, and soups make people curl up under blankets on the couch. And it also means decorations of all sorts, made of the leaves from the forest, orange, yellow and red things and...we can not forget...

Pumpkin overflow

Pumpkins! They're everywhere. Wickies will find pumpkins infused into all sorts of things, like coffee, ice cream, even spaghetti options! It's wild.

There’s also many jack o'lanterns. They have been placed everywhere in town, outside homes, and even small ones have been made into table decorations. The Jack o lanterns have very cheerful faces, and seem to watch Wickies every single move.

That is, until a Wickie bashes or otherwise abuses a pumpkin. That's when it changes- there seem to be more of them. Their expressions change to that of anger, sadness and disgust. None of them attack- yet. But their faces become more and more horrifying, as they follow the Wickie more and more- outside of the bathroom perhaps, or found on top of them as the Wickie wakes up in the middle of the night.

It shouldn't matter right? They're only pumpkins.

What a ride

Funny enough, with the pumpkin invasion, there also comes a dull colored horse wandering about the island. Its head is drooped, and it looks depressed and lonely. The horse is tame on approach and will accept pats and treats, even from those who are obviously not human.

But it also wants something, for all that it seems to be begging for attention. It wants someone to ride them, seems to even be begging for it with its big eyes. The horse will help Wickies to figure out how to mount; it will even stand beside the Town Center benches, rocks, or even go down in order to make it possible for the Wickie to get onto the horse’s back.

That’s when it changes. The Wickie is immediately wrapped in chains from their barrel to the Wickie’s waist. The horse turns a coal black and the Wickie’s clothing changes into that of a soldier's uniform, with a hand either holding a whip modeled after a human spine, or a jack o'lantern.

The Wickie cannot get off the horse on their own, no matter how much they struggle. As the horse moves throughout the town, they will go anywhere from a walk to a full canter, seemingly impervious to any magic or physical attacks. The same cannot be said for their unfortunate rider.

If the rider is hit, or simply in pain, the Wickie will feel an impulse that grows and grows until they scream a name of someone in town, someone they know.

And the named will drop, paralyzed. Paralyzed wickie are likely to die within minutes, more so if they are too close to horse and rider. The horse will happily trample anyone on the ground to death.

Even without the impulse, should the Wickie rider use anyone’s name, that person will drop, paralyzed, and unable to breathe.

There is only one way to possibly save the rider: scatter golden objects in their path. The horse will shriek, and promptly buck the rider off, before running away. Just make sure to catch the rider, or at least cushion their fall: they have no way of saving themselves until they hit the ground.

Heart game: confession

Current residents of the island may remember this particular beeping alert, and how it doesn’t go away, no matter what they do! That is, unless they open up the Heart Game, and answer the question.

Welcome back everyone! It’s so good to see you again! Now let’s play that game, Confession! And the question isssssss…

How do you celebrate the changing seasons! Don't be shy!

Comments

pumpkin overflow

[unheeled]

[ Meanwhile, Rita embraces that basic autumn bitch stereotype. Pumpkin spice flavored everything, appropriately color-coordinated clothes... but especially the food, because even though she still looks undead, she isn't. She can taste things again, and fuck you if she's not going to indulge.

The woman landing in front of her is a surprise, sure, and Rita jumps back, keeping a firm hold on her cup of pumpkin spice soy latte with no whip. Thank god for travel cups, the cap keeps the delicious concoction from spilling.

She's about to ask what the hell the woman with pink hair is doing when some angry-faced jack o lanterns land after her. How the hell did they survive that fall? Creepy. Festive, though. ]

Is this some kind of performance art thing? First time I've seen anything like it.

[morns]

[ coffee should be black, anything else just tastes wrong. hot or iced, both are good, but black and bitter enough that your tastebuds protest is truly the only way to wake up in the morning.

(a milder edition for the afternoon, to rejuvenate the body when it begins to flag, is also acceptable).

but that life philosophy aside, there's really quite a problem on her heels, and a stranger providing one further variable to consider if these... they can't be pumpkins. something possessing pumpkins, maybe. whatever. they look like pumpkins right now, so she'll call them pumpkins.

point being, they've made it across several rooftops in their bid to follow her and are beginning to circle, crowding around the two of them and driving them closer. ]

Not an actress.

[ okay, clearly the best option is just to... kick these things out of the way, right? they're pumpkins. she could just step on each of them and be done with this, so why not? ]

[unheeled]

[ ok, snob, says the snob. ]

You don't...

[ "don't know what performance art is, do you?" is communicated by a deep breath, a sigh, and a roll of her eyes. Performance art doesn't require actors. But a) wow, Rita absolutely doesn't give enough fucks to correct her and make her feel inferior, and b) these mobile art installations - or little monsters, whichever - are now surrounding them, and they look hostile.

(Can they sense how much Rita enjoys the fall? Can they smell the pumpkin spice in her coffee? Will they leave her alone and go for the pink-haired idiot attacking them?)

Rita dodges a chunk of pumpkin, ducking out of its way. ]

You think that's going to make them friendlier? [ The disdain in her tone has its own gravitational pull.

She steps out of the way of a pumpkin that bumped into her, and accidentally bumps into another pumpkin.

Fuck. ]

Thanks for ruining my day, Pepto Bismol Hair.

[ Said as she tried very carefully to walk outside the circle of pumpkins, hoping to god she doesn't step on one of them. If nothing else, getting her shoes clean will be a pain in the ass. ]

[morns]

[ she's a coffee snob, and certainly no art lover (Marc says there's an officer he works with who is, but he's not sure if it's because she loves art or loves an artist), but most importantly?

she has fuck all patience for possessed pumpkins and whoever this griping woman is. ]

You try and befriend them, then.

[ somehow, Kate does not see that happening any time soon. but if you crush enough of them, they eventually have to stop coming, right? ]

[unheeled]

I was doing just fine until—

[ Excuse her, she has to avoid a pumpkin and also have a sip of coffee, because #priorities— ]

Until you dropped down here.

[ One of the pumpkins leaps (LEAPS??? jesus christ what the hell is going on) at her hand, and Rita snaps it back in time to avoid getting a gourdy gash. What would even happen if they bit you? She guesses they could crush or suffocate a person, but beyond that... ]

You can stay and fight. I'm going to walk away.

[ Because they can be outwalked, right? Right. And sure, Pink Haired Weirdo can follow her if she wants, Rita doesn't care. She just wants to be a basic fall-loving rich girl in peace.

It's. Not that easy, but she's managing. Slowly. Ugh, this is terrible. ]

[morns]

( and she was doing just fine with that route until these damned pumpkins started being a thing. but kicking them?

oddly therapeutic.

except for the bit where, like the heads of the hydra, every one she boots into the stratosphere is replaced with two more. and they certainly seem quite happy to include anyone near her in their mission for revenge.

but this chick is... kind of a bitch and Kate clicks her tongue as Pumpkin Spice wanders off. she can deal with whatever follows her, it's just fine—

except. there's one aiming for the chick's back, hopping around while she continues striding away, and that stirs something in her. call it a misplaced sense of nobility, or simply the fact that she knows all too well that a hit in the back hurts like a motherfucker, but she darts forward and smacks it to one side before it can connect, the slap of her hand against pumpkin shell reverberating and flowing straight into a— )

Fuckin' hell...

( ow. )