May 2024 Test Drive Meme: The First of Many to Come

[newcomod]

"When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.”

Welcome to our first meme!

We will officially be opening our game June 1st at 12:01 AM EST.
Reserves will open on May 28th at 12:01 AM EST.
Applications will open on the 1st at 12:01 AM EST.
Applications will close on the 5th at 11:59 PM EST.

Please follow our Plurk newcomb for updates regarding the opening of our game.

Our memes are open to current and prospective players alike.
All Test Drive memes are game canon and serve as a lead-up to the following month's event. The first prompt in each TDM will always coincide with the disastrous circumstances of Penumbra's collision.

This disaster will leave unique supplies or conditions for the following month until the reset in time occurs and a new collision invokes new circumstances.

Most characters upon initial arrival may suffer mild amnesia, fatigue, and diminished powers. Memories, energy, and powers will eventually return. Per player choice, this can be quickly or slowly.

You can use your TDM threads for writing samples on your application.
If you are applying for a new character, you can choose to keep your TDM threads canon to your character or not.

Even if our current players do not engage with the TDM, we strongly recommend they read each TDM to be aware of how Penumbra strikes Newcomb every month. We encourage characters to react to this via network or log posts in the community spaces.

Prompt 1 Prompt 2 Prompt 3 Questions

Premise Taken Applications Navigation

Image Descriptions from left to right: First image is a red train pictured along raised tracks set against pine trees in sunlight, second image is a gif of a train explosion as people flee from the destruction, third image is of a dark sky with orange lightning.

First Train In

Content Warnings.

Violent train crash, fire, explosions, burning, and injuries from such conditions.

Summary

Characters appear in a train that is crashing through the reality rip left behind by the meteor, Penumbra. The train falls onto the campus fields and mostly implodes.

Prompt

Once upon a time, Newcomb had its very own train station that was used by students and staff alike. Most students would arrive at campus via the train and supplies were often shipped in through the train. This very train station used to be located by Fitch End and was one of the first out-of-campus locations to be destroyed by Penumbra.

This month, it seems as if the reset has brought the train back. For a moment, anyway. One may awaken from a deep slumber in one of the passenger cars, groggy and nearly jetlagged. You will be surrounded by other characters waking up, just as disoriented and confused as you are.

The train ride itself isn't so bad though. The scenery beyond the windows is filled with gorgeous sprawling woods, already tinged with the golds and reds of autumn. The smell of pine and old leather fills the train and you will find your backpack in a cubby just above your head or on the seat beside you.

There is no way to exit the train at this point, no matter how one might try. What is the point anyway? Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Something is soothing about a train ride, after all. You may even feel tempted to fall back asleep. Maybe things will make more sense when you wake up again.

You won't have peace for long. The train jolts violently as if being struck by something, and after, everything descends into chaos. Cars begin to slam together, some smashing upward, shattering glass and doors, crushing seats. Explosions burst from the front of the train, and as it pivots onto campus, it scorches the ground.

Cars break apart, sliding into their destruction here and there against buildings or trees. It feels as though it happens both slowly and rapidly, defying time itself, the sound of a ticking clock somehow overwhelming the symphony of metal scraping against metal.

Oil from the train catches fire across campus grounds. While the buildings are fireproof and resilient, the rest of the campus is not and neither are some characters who may be wandering about perchance. As the disaster comes to a screeching halt, characters will have to help each other from the wreckage and help put out the fires.

The train will remain on campus for June. It can be broken apart for metal parts and explored for small, sentimental items or important weapons that belong to a character. The train will vanish in the blink of an eye as midnight hits on the 31st. The Penumbric siren alerts the campus of the reset and the incoming meteor and its potential new disaster.

You will have to brace yourself for what happens next.

Note on Penumbric Collision Prompts: Characters do not need to arrive in this prompt. You may opt-out entirely by having your character fall through the sky or wake up incredibly disoriented randomly on campus. Arrival to Newcomb should be somewhat physically and/or mentally draining or damaging. Even characters resistant to pain or injury will be temporarily vulnerable to the arrival.

Image Descriptions from left to right: First image is a shadowy humanoid with a black and gray smudge effect concealing the face, second image is a pair of hands covered in a black goopy substance, third image has several clear vials containing a smoky, goopy black substance.

Assimilation

Content Warnings.

Mysterious goo-like substance with parasitic qualities, manipulation of behavior, forced uncharacteristic behavior, very mild body horror.

Summary

A mysterious black goo escapes from a frozen boxcar on the train. This goo attaches to living organisms and begins to influence their behavior. The goo will either naturally slide off after some time or can be rubbed off the skin with freezing water.

Prompt

A curious boxcar can be discovered among the wreckage of the train. This boxcar was carefully sealed off and kept at freezing temperatures. Inside were metal crates filled with test tubes and Petri dishes containing a mysterious black goo.

During the fall, the boxcar's front end was ripped away. Between the raging fires from the crash and the exposure to higher temperatures, the vials and petri dishes thawed. Vials and Petri dishes began to break apart as the mysterious goo essentially "woke up" from its cryogenic state and escaped from the glass containers.

This mysterious goo seeks out living organisms and will subtly attach itself to character bodies. This can be as subtle as a dime-sized speck of mysterious goo behind a character's ear or consume half a character's body. The goo's attachment is painless. It has a tarlike odor and causes a strange prickling sensation the longer it remains attached to a character.

After some time, the goo will naturally slide off a character. Alternatively, a character can apply freezing water or ice to the goo and this will essentially "kill" the goo and slough it off in broken chunks.

While the goo is attached to characters, it will cause uncontrollable, unusual behavior. On a less severe end, symptoms may include disorientation, difficulty walking, slurred speech, confusion, and clinginess even to strangers. On a more extreme end, the goo may cause characters to act in ways contradictory to who they typically are: they may be prone to fits of violence, hysteria, flirtation, cruelty, or even for some, abundant kindness and outgoing friendliness.

The goo will automatically make characters want to interact with other characters whether positively or negatively. It uses these interactions as a way to migrate from one host to the next.

Image Descriptions from left to right: First image has a playing card and two white dice, second image has a text bubble that reads, "I'm not a Soft Gay I'm an Anger Gay. I love dogs and burning things." Third image shows a field of grass and wildflowers with a free-standing picture frame with torn canvas, the torn spot revealing a city scape image.

Two Truths & A Lie

Content Warnings.

Forced honesty and deciet via parasitic mind control. Implanted knowledge. Potential forced vulnerability.

Summary

Characters are forced to break in their Fermii accounts by publicly posting two truths and a lie for other characters to figure out. This is a network prompt.

Prompt.

Who isn't familiar with the bizarre urge to overshare to total strangers online? It would appear that the mysterious goo has an intimate understanding of this instinct and intends to capitalize on it.

In other words, the mysterious goo's influence is not limited to in-person interactions. Even characters unfamiliar with technology will have the burning desire to get out their new phone and create a public post to all Fermii users containing two truths and a lie about themselves.

These can range from embarrassing and silly to serious and incriminating. Characters will continue to feel an itch to respond transparently to those who correctly guess which is which. Even the most sophisticated and chronic liars cannot resist the force of the mysterious goo's presence.

The urge to overshare will ebb away the more truth is exposed.

Ironically, this may be a minor blessing to those unfamiliar with smartphone technology. It would seem that the mysterious goo has managed to assimilate the knowledge of how smartphones work and helpfully pass it into the mind of its host. However, the price of exposure might not be worth the shortcut to knowledge.

code

Comments

clint barton | mcu

[brandingproblem]

train
[The world explodes into heat and pain.

In spite of the shock of it (and everything else), he somehow just isn't surprised that this is happening. It just seems about right, somehow. There's a long and groggy moment between when he hits something (or is hit by something, he can't even recall) and when he tries to sit up in a daze where all he can wonder is where the hell that damn clock is coming from.

It is, in fact, the only thing he can hear with any clarity. Everything now is muffled at best, and it isn't just head trauma talking. It doesn't get any better as he really comes to and starts attempting to move, but he isn't in a position to question that right now. One arm is busted, forearm snapped in a manner as to be bent in a way that forearms do not. His face is hot and wet, and to others it's at least half a sheet of blood from a head wound. He's covered in all manner of cuts even through his couple of layers of clothes, including the hand of his other arm now when he sets to pushing himself up among the shards of glass and scraps of metal that once held chairs in place and, y'know, were walls and floor. He tries not to think too hard about an entire wheel axle lodged into the ceiling from another car. Get up. Get the fuck up.

There's smoke, and so in spite of trying to get up, he stays low, finds a window--frame bent at a jaunty angle--and climbs through it, stumbling onto the burning grass.]

Hey! Hey! [He pokes his head back through, waving his good arm to anyone inside. He can barely hear himself.] This way! A way out!

[He will do his damnedest to, instead of making his way away from the wreckage or seeking help for himself, help others out of the car he was in, and hell, other cars if he can see other disoriented passengers struggling to escape a bad situation.]

assimilation
[He doesn't notice when a bit of black finds its way through one of the tears in his shirts and rests against his torso in a cozy manner. What he does notice is when his steps, having become more solid and sure in spite of new surroundings, growing wobbly. The world spins, and, aw shit, this is a concussion, isn't it? The adrenaline's wearing off, and his brain's starting to shut down. His arm's still several shades of busted, and he's probably going to break something else like this, and he should find someone else to make it better.

Is that what he needs...? There's an unbidden thought, feeling, memory(?), like being pulled under and inside of himself, trapped. It's so very fucking familiar--and then. Yes. Yes, that's what he needs. He's sure of this now. The only thing he's sure of. (Right?)

He grabs the first person he can see without preamble, tight.] Hey, [and his mouth feels like cotton, like everything's drooping] help? Please. Dunno what I'm doing. [But it has to involve this person. Or other people! He's...pretty sure.]

party games
[Hi guys, guess who, it's ya boi, hawkeye bc who has time for creativity in first thing usernames, coming at you with a goo-ified network post.]

1. I fought my best friend about who got to sacrifice their life.
2. My preferred weapon is a retractable katana I made myself.
3. My family's existence was top secret for many years.

party games

[pursuitofcappiness]

Clint. We need to talk.

[brandingproblem]

I'd say you need to guess, but that'd be cheating on your end huh.

[pursuitofcappiness]

Is that... what happened?

[brandingproblem]

Is what what happened?

[pursuitofcappiness]

You. And Nat.

Assimilation

[abit_ofboth]

[Ever since he examined the strange goo leaking out from the train car, Loki has felt rather… good. Perhaps a little drunk, as he feels a little off kilter and a lot giddy, but he also just feels content. Happy in a way he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before. Whatever that stuff is, he doesn’t really care if this his how it works. He even wants to contact Odin and Frigga and apologize. Now isn’t that something?

Just then, he feels someone grab at him. Loki stumbles slightly as he turns and grabs the man before he can fully fall to the ground. He does not look good and Loki feels a little worried. Something he can’t ever remember feeling for a stranger before.]

Oh my, the crash really did a number on you, didn’t it? I’m afraid I am not trained in healing magic, but there must be healers here. I will help you find one.

[brandingproblem]

[Is there something familiar here, too? It's so god damn hazy, like he should remember, but also, it doesn't even fucking matter. Does any of it? The man he's latched onto says something, and he only remembers to focus partway through, catching some tone, half-words, mouth movements. He gets enough of the gist, he thinks. Got a real English bent, he can see it in the way the man forms his vowels.

He flashes the briefest of smiles, all teeth, not altogether real. Is this fear that's clawing up his throat? Fear and confusion and panic and a need for others. He needs this help. He can't do any of this on his own.

Oh. Helpless. It comes to him so naturally. And why wouldn't it--]

Yeah. Please. Thanks. [He leans more of his weight on the stranger.] Doctor or magic or whatever. Need a pick-me-up. [To say the least. It's a start.]

[abit_ofboth]

[There's nothing familiar here for Loki, but there is the completely unfamiliar urge to help. Not that he's never wanted to help anyone before, but it tends to be strictly limited family and even some of them don't make the cut. In fact, most of them were axed from his list quite recently. His current change of mood might be strange, but it's lucky for the man now or Loki might not have stopped at all.]

You are most welcome. I believe I saw some healer types treating people just over there. [He lifts Clint easily, propping him up with one arm around his back while being careful of all visible injuries. It's almost like he's helped people with injuries before. Of course usually they weigh a lot more than most humans.]

[brandingproblem]

[Tall, dark, and [static] is certainly stronger than he looks at any rate. Almost makes Clint want to fake some leg injury and make him really carry him around. Like a sack of potatoes. Or a bride or something.

(He's wobbly enough that he doesn't need to fake anything, but he doesn't deliberately stoop that low anyway.)

(Yet.)]

Sorry if I bleed on you. Blood's s'posed to stay on the inside, generally speaking. Most of the time.

[abit_ofboth]

[Though he's perfectly capable of carrying multiple people around, he wouldn't understand why this man would want something like that. If someone wanted to take Loki by surprise, that is the exact kind of thing they might want to say out loud.]

Do not worry about it. I have been bled on before. I cannot tell you how many times I have helped patch up my brother and his friends.

[He may not be a healer, but with proper supplies, Loki is capable of setting bones and staunching blood loss... at least when it came to Asgardians. He has no idea how a human would react. It's entirely possible with his strength he might accidentally (or not so accidentally) make things worse.]

party games

[everyspark]

[something hits her, looking at that third one. bile and heartache, but all she can dredge from her arrival-fuzzed mind is that something happened, and it happened because of her.]

Maybe my family should have been a secret too.

[brandingproblem]

There are all kinds of reasons that could be preferable. Sounds like you've got a story.

[everyspark]

One or two. Sounds like you do as well.

[then, because it's not polite to press without playing the game:] Number two's the lie, isn't it? [either that or the first one was prompted by guilt over not fighting for his friend's life. somehow she doesn't think that's the case.

[brandingproblem]

I do have that sword, but put a bow and arrow in my hands, and it's like an extension of my own body.

party games

[flippin_peachy]

I would hope that #3 is the lie.

[brandingproblem]

Why's that?

[flippin_peachy]

Seems like that would put a lot of stress on a family and your home life.

[brandingproblem]

We thought it'd be more dangerous to be out in the open.

assimilation - i'm so sorry about her face | cw: blood

[thevelmster]

[She startles at the sudden grip and presence of the stranger, the trance of shock that's engulfed her broken. It snaps her attention away from the blood covering her hands and dripping down her arms, soaking into the orange sweater in various locations. It looks like she's even tried wiping her hands over the front of the sweater. She's a mess, but maybe not as much as him?

Despite her condition, Velma looks concerned, and she genuinely wants to help.]

I'll help. What can I do?

[Strangely, focusing on figuring out what's wrong with this man is helping her calm down. She always felt better solving unknowns and fixing things.]

hm, better or worse than a space otter with her voice...

[brandingproblem]

[He blinks at her, discombobulated, but--determined. Relieved, even, to get that kind of reaction and reception. Everything is so out of place, and words are hard, but even still--even still, he flashes a lopsided smile at her. Quick, here and gone, but enough. Another person. She can help. That much is clear. Follow her, trust her.

Hm. Trusting a stranger wholly and implicitly. Surely that's a correct feeling to have and a normal way to act.]

There was-- [Well. He wants to say there was a train crash, but of course she knows that, dumbass. In fact, she looks like she also might be hurt. He peers at her hands, her bright top, frowns. The world tilts, and so does he.] Oooookay, uh, help me sit? Before I fall right on top of you, preferably. Wouldn't mind breaking the fall, but you'd have a hard time moving me. [He's trying hard to keep his words clear enough, even the stupid joking. And through all of that, he still manages:] You okay?

[Hell of a thing to ask when he's the one looking like he might tip over with a strong enough breeze.]

oh that space otter hurt so much.

[thevelmster]

I know. [Velma agrees, mentally piecing together what he's saying with patterns and context clues. They were in a crash. They need to get away from the wreckage.

He tilts and she moves to try and steady him, hooking an arm around his torso and wedging herself against him as a support. She'd very much like to avoid having to physically move the larger, muscle-dense man anywhere solely by her own strength. If gravity wins then her solution will include making him very comfortable on the ground.]

No. [She admits.] But you're worse. [So she's helping him.] We're going to put one foot in front of the other okay? Get a little further away before sitting.

[His behavior concerns her, and she's not certain what's happening.
This is extreme for a concussion. It's almost like he's drunk, but she doesn't smell any alcohol.]

Did you hit your head? How's your vision?

[Please don't fall. Please don't fall.]

Assimilation

[nimbuster]

[All in all, things could be worse. Granted, they also could be a whole lot better, but Cloud's the kind of guy who works with what he's got. And what he's got is a bit of trouble breathing from all the smoke; a few broken bones in his left hand, he's pretty sure; some cuts and bruises and a bit of singeing; and a hell of a headache.

And his sword, fortunately. One of the major reasons things could be worse.

But he's on edge, more on edge than he thinks he should be even under the circumstances, and he's having trouble focusing on anything other than what's right in front of him. So when someone grabs him by the arm, it catches him off-guard and his immediate instinct is to yank it back - and though he doesn't quite remember it right now, he is a supersoldier. He might end up accidentally yanking too hard for this poor guy, whoever he is, if he doesn't let go.]

Hey--!

[But before he can say anything else, he parses what the guy is saying to him and blinks. Brow furrowing, he takes in this man's wounds, the way he's wobbling, how dizzy he looks. Cloud's plenty disoriented, too, but after a moment, some instinct or subconscious habit kicks in and he snaps to full alertness, straightening up with a military sort of focus. Not like he has any idea what he's doing either, really, but apparently he's used to faking it.]

--right. I got you.

[Cloud ducks a little to pull the other man's unbroken arm across his shoulders with his own good hand and supports as much of the guy's weight as he needs to to keep him on his feet. Even if that's more or less all of it - seems like it's not quite as much effort as it ought to be. Cloud's not about to question it.

He takes a moment to frown at the unsteady, almost glassy look in this guy's eyes.]

Looks like you might have hit your head pretty hard. Where to? There an infirmary around here?

[brandingproblem]

[It's only a few seconds, yet it also somehow seems to happen even faster than that. A flash of something in the helpful stranger's eyes, turning to something calmer almost instantly. The inherent strength in the young man, stronger than Clint knows a person who looks like that (no offense) ought to be able to demonstrate.

The great huge enormous length of metal that takes him this long to finally parse that's a god damn sword.]

Jesus, [the tone of which should still come across as surprised curse of an exclamation even to someone of a vastly different culture] you're kind of a beast. [(affectionate???)] Hell'd you get that from, rip it off the train?

[Mm. Hm. Shit. He was probably asked something himself, huh.] Hey, uh, I can't hear too well, so just--let's take it slow? Can kinda read lips. [A skill he developed earlier in life which has only gotten better and come more in handy. But extremely imperfect. It ain't like the movies, that's for sure.] Dunno where I'm going. Away? In case of secondary explosions.

[Hell of a sentence for his cotton-y mouth to slur out, but that feels like an important start.]

[nimbuster]

[Listen, Cloud knows what he looks like, but he doesn't remember it ever mattering much. (It mattered plenty. He just doesn't remember it. And he can't even blame the train crash for that one.)

He glances sidelong at this guy and, despite everything, a self-satisfied little smile curves the edges of his lips upward. He apparently takes being called a beast in the spirit it was (probably??) meant.]

Nah. It's mine. Been mine for ye--

[The relentless ache in his head suddenly spikes in a way that's unsettlingly familiar, and whatever he was about to say skitters off into the recesses of his mess of memories. He grunts quietly and pauses for a few seconds, wincing, before he shakes it off and resumes like nothing happened.]

A while now.

[Oh, shit. Well, trying to face this guy directly while walking the way they are is gonna be a little awkward, but Cloud's sure he can manage. He compromises with a sort of half-turn of his head and hopes that's enough for the other guy to read his lips.]

Right. Let's just get indoors for now, we can figure the rest out when there's a brick wall between us and a train full of flaming wreckage.

[He glances around and makes for the closest building, whatever it is. Cloud has never been on a college campus before, nor does he know a single thing about how college works, so he's just gonna be playing it by ear.]