upcyclingmod (
upcyclingmod) wrote in
pedalbike2020-11-24 06:53 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Fourth TDM: Winter's breath

Welcome to the Test Drive Meme.
| Premise | FAQ | Full Navigation | Rules | Reserves |
As a quick note: This will be the last TDM and Application Round of the year! Have fun everyone!
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.
Start of Winter
Thankfully things have more or less dried out, for the seasons are already changing. Or at least, the weather is, and with it...comes snow.
The grass on the island is covered, various trees lose the last of their leaves, the sand becomes crunchy, and even a portion of the ocean water becomes frozen solid. (Take THAT, water!). And with it, Wickies wake up at their feet (or suddenly in their hands if they don’t sleep) warm clothing and various ways to keep warm- or at least keep the cold from messing with their joints!
And with it, there are snow shovels and boots that are set out neatly by the door. It seems more snowk is expected, and foot protection is more important than ever. While it is possible for some (those who are not infected by the Silence at least) to use the teleporter to get from town to their homes, there are pathways that need to be cleared for everyone.
It might be a good time to offer a helping hand! Especially with some Wickies who are snowed into their homes.
Or it could be a good time to use the shovels to gather snow for snow ball fights, snow forts, and similar winter activities. The nice thing about the winter shovels is that they’ll have them for a few months.
Too bad the ground is nearly frozen solid, and these particular shovels are not good for digging into the ground.
Frosty Protections
While there may be the snow and the quiet that’s coming in, there are other things that are coming into the island too. There are tables that linger day or night, which have tangyuan. Some in the shape of various animals, and some of them that are simply balls of colored dough. They are edible, and thankfully they don’t have a negative consequence to eating them (unlike the mooncakes from before) but there are written instructions, which also proclaim outloud to a Wickie if they linger for awhile:
“For the use of protective talismans! Stick it on your chair, your door, your window!”
Interestingly enough, they do seem to work. Wickies who are Silence infected are repelled by them, feeling uneasy and nauseous around them and touching the tangyuan even with covered hands will cause a burning sensation.
Infected Wickies who eat the treats...they’re in for a rough time. Really rough.
There are also little tables with various drinks, some being fruit juice, sparkling fruit juice, champagne and of similar ilk- but not ever with water. That’s just bad luck after everything.
The inscription for this table, which is again read out loud, “Toast to others health”
Picking up the cups, they will be unable to drop it, and the fluid will refill in the Wickie’s cup until they find someone to toast to- whether it’s in humor or in earnestness.
For the next twelve hours after the toast is made, even if the drink is not drunk after, the Wickie toasted will find they will have better luck in that subject, whether it is in health, love, or friendship, or just in general.
The same applies if Wickies toast together to a group of people as well.
Of hooves and horns
The strangest thing of all isn't the sweet rice balls, nor is it the smell of evergreens heavy in the air. Instead, it's the masks set to everyone, and the ruckus music that thrums through the air, deep into the night.
The masks are of a haggard old woman, well worn and aged, and that of a man with horns and facial hair similar to a goat.
There are different effects when it comes to the masks, both happening at night with the music starts.
Wickies wearing the devilish mask find themselves wearing a ragged fur suit, prancing in the streets, ready to whip other Wickies whose behavior has been suspect or bad as of late. Finding the wicked and punishing them is an impulse, neigh impossible to ignore. And, too, there is a sense of wicked glee when they do punish someone with their reeds and whips. Krampus masked Wickies thankfully can be pacified with rum or brandy. They'll need the help of another to pull of the mask. But once it's off, the costume vanishes, and the chagrin of what happened ( or the satisfaction) follows.
Wickies wearing the woman’s mask will find that they’re not trying to scare people, but instead, they find themselves loping in and out of the crowds, searching, scanning, for certain people, all the while wearing ragged clothing, and often a scarf on their now ratty, graying hair.
It’s with a sickening horror that Wickies will realize there is something in the mask that is watching through the mask itself, and is nodding to itself far away and writing their names on a list.
And it’s not Santa Claus.
The Wickie’s wearing the old woman’s mask can be distracted by scattering seeds or threads in front of them- one inducing a true distraction to count and pick up the seeds, and a rage that comes over that of wasted thread.
Seeds make it easier to pull off the mask, and thankfully popcorn counts as a seed! But thread...well, it is a distraction too, but one that can lead to violent consequences. It might mean some rounds of bait and switching until the mask is taken off.
And that’s when the Wickie who had been wearing the mask realizing the list is of ‘bad’ Wickies, But…
how bad could they be?
Confession network
Yet again, the phone goes off. Doesn’t look like it’s anybody in town, but it’s that weird, cheesy app called The Heart Game. And it’s persistent, too: it doesn’t want to be ignored, making a series of beeps and chirps, much like a pet that wants attention.
The message that pops up is as follows:
We’re back! It’s the time for everyone's favorite game- Confession! So beloved users, our question is:
What do you love about winter? Is it the nip on your nose? The hot drinks? Playing in the snow? Tell us!
no subject
she approaches too, towards the man, but it only seems to be a passing, stepping by him and bringing the flowers to bloom with, past the snow and slowing down her trot once she was some paces ahead of him. ah, what's this? a piece of paper? a note of some sort, that if matoba were to catch it in its floating descent to his chest, it reads, in fresh, dripping black ink: ]
no subject
[Apparently not this one, though; he watches the flowers bloom in her wake and supposes she was some sort of harvest or season-bringing goddess, at the least; the sunshine and warmth suggested an association with the Spring. (He recalls the gossip he had overheard that Natori had been contracted to seal or exorcise Fuzuki and Houzuki of Mt. Misumi not long ago... Apparently, this kami was not in such a sorry state.)]
You seem in quite high spirits, for having been brought to this place, [Matoba comments dryly before pinching the fluttering note in his fingers. What strange and impossibly powerful aura this one has; and it takes him a moment of staring at her words to fix his face. He should consider it fortunate that not only was this god willing to commune directly with humans, she almost seemed to be seeking it (all mischievous snowball-throwing considered). It was very ...different, from the sorts of gods Matoba was used to dealing with- thunderous beings whose arcane rules would see disaster upon the unlucky human that dared not to tread lightly around them.]
Are you seeking something?
no subject
the she wolf lifts and presses a paw into the snow, then does so with both, in an excited sort of march that wouldn't be able to wait for him for long, before, gently behind the young man's head comes an encouraging breeze in her direction. walk with her. because she has one more note suddenly held between her teeth, and you're going to have to take it from her if you want to see what she has to say!
plus, she has the zoomies. ]
sorry for the lateness! 🙏
[But this one's power has him interested, and he'd be a fool to turn her down, lest she instead decide to be offended, and settle him with some bad luck. Fine, then.]
[Matoba's clogs make deep imprints in the snow as he follows after her, tilting his parasol against a new drift of snow in the breeze that pushes him along with her. He spends his time, eyes lidded, pondering what sort of game she was setting him up to here- before he notices the sudden, wriggling excitement she wheels around to face him with, and the new parchment in her teeth.]
[Sigh. This is why he prefers cats.]
Ahh, I see. [He smiles, put on, as he tilts his parasol back up again.] I cannot decline a challenge from a god of the Spring, can I? Lest I fail and doom us all to an endless winter. [...It's mostly a joke, but it's also not the sort of thing he'd be surprised if it were true. Either way, he takes on a mischievous grin of his own and raises two fingers before him, as if in prayer.] I'll accept, then.
Get it.
[Two robed shadow puppets, their faces merely masks with eyeholes, form out of the ground from underneath his feet and spring forth at his command. If a god wanted to play, then it was only fair that a mere human could use all the abilities at his disposal, right?]
no worries! esp when backtagging is my lifeblood
were these things as tangible as true shadows, she wondered? her celestial brush paints a quick two dots by her feet as the puppets gained chase, two that spring from the buried earth two trees, rapid in growth and shivering their leaves as if they've been there for at least a handful of years, right into each of the puppet's path.
she looks absolutely delighted with this man. ]
no subject
[His theory solidifies as he watches the trees sprout up, crushing and dissipating the shadows. Indeed, they were tangible things which could be destroyed, but as soon as she's abolished them, two more sprout from Matoba's shadow once more, his watchful eye set on her.]
[That brush is an odd power, indeed... Perhaps some sort of artifact- but he's never heard of one which could create greenery with a single stroke like that. In fact, it reminds him more of the power of a man he's met here- a mage who commands power over plants- but it gives him an idea of what else to look out for, and it gives him an idea.]
[As his shadows dodge and wind their long limbs towards Ammy, seeking to snatch at her, or hold her down, Matoba seeks to keep her distracted from his own drawing- in the snow and dirt beneath, using the handle of his parasol.]
I do hope your reward is worth it, [He chides, forming a last, quick doodle in the snow, a wide circle drawn into it, and then he commands for his shadows to corral her from behind- to force her to circle back towards him.]
no subject
that wasn't the word. what she was looking for was perhaps more fun. the wolf lopes straight for matoba without stopping. without stopping. without . . . stopping.
she springs right into his chest at full force. ]