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

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

"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.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The way the man completely glazes over his question even feels familiar, really. It's nagging at him, from somewhere in his head that's still full of smoke from the train car and haze from the mushrooms and confusion from the parasite. Some combination, or all three.

He has no idea. He doesn't care, either, at the moment. His chest is bruised up from the crash, and if he's very honest with himself, the shock does have him feeling uncharacteristically chilly.

"Kiitos,," he slurs, haphazardly tugging the thing around his shoulders. "'M okay, though. Loooooot colder where I come from. Just got.......knocked around........on th-the train."

He rubs at a little bruise on his chin, the parasite glistening amongst his bracelets.

"But seriously, you...do I...know you?"

The parasite doesn't quite register. Or it does, but it seems to be a part of the man's odd collection of bracelets.

"Finland?" he asks, distracted. And then blinks at himself, sitting up a little straighter. "No, where did I get that from. I've never been to Finland. Have I...?"

There are odd flashes of memory floating around his brain, like television static. A distant voice on the radio, tinny due to the weak signal but so familiar. Or is it just his shaky memory making the voice seem so far away? The more he tries to pull it together, the more it fights to float away.

Another slow, puzzled blink.

"...How did you know that, man?" His brows furrow, and he scoots just a little closer. "D'you knowww...the language, or something?"

The parasite prickles around his arm, responding to the closer proximity, hoping to spread. Tom is just being Tom, as far as he knows. Notoriously touchy-feely. Strangely, he feels like he has touched this man before.

But he tries to laugh it off, because his brain is muzzy.

"Dooooon't mind me, darling. I think I...I think maybe I'm just a little...high, for all this."

"No, I don't. I just -- your accent, perhaps?" But does he even know anyone else, aside from the stranger (? undecided) who is Finnish? "Someone I worked with..." he ponders out loud, trying to make sense of all the pieces in front of him. Where did he work, that someone had spoken Finnish to him? He wasn't Finnish, certainly, but something about it felt oddly familiar.

The comment pulls him up short, however, startling him out of his line of thought. "Well we must have met, if you know my name already."

"Really? 'S not.............an accent mos'people can...can place," Tom slurs, swaying a little where he sits. His bruised ribs sting, but they feel far away.

Besides, what this man has just said is plenty distraction on its own.

"Your name is...Darling? I just meant - I meant it like. Like people...callll people darling. I think. I - wait. Wait, did I...? Did I know that...?"

Expression screwing tight with the effort of trying to recall, the artist reaches out towards the other man, oblivious to the fact that the parasite is writhing vaguely against his arm....

"Casper Darling, yes. Which obviously a lot of people say, conversationally. Darling, not Casper, but -- " He notices the hand reaching for him, the arm with the bracelets, and frowns, leaning back a little.

"I don't mean to be alarming, but one of your bracelets seems to be moving...?" Which does ring bells, in the back of his foggy mind. Black shapes, moving, writhing in a way that is deeply unnatural. Swarming over people -- bodies? So still but still moving.

Darling shakes his head to try and clear it.

"Oh. Okay." But his voice is heavy with confusion, because that's a very unusual name, and he knows it. Why does he know it?

The parasite settles a little when Darling leans back and away, and Tom pouts a bit at being denied the touch.

"That? Thaaaaat is just. Some Darkness. Nothing I'm not uuuused to." But if he focuses, he can feel it there. The Dark Presence doesn't normally feel like much.

He frowns, staring at it.

"...Wait. Wait, something is... something isn't right."

"Because -- you were in the dark. We were in the dark..?" he starts to puzzle out, but then the man says that something isn't right, and it pulls him back to the present.

"Oh -- oh dear. I don't have -- " Darling sits up on his knees, digging through his pack again, not entirely sure what he's looking for but knowing somewhere in his mind that he should know how to deal with this.

"Try to get it off you. If you can."

We were in the dark.

Something about that feels right, feels familiar, but - god, it's all fuzzy, it's far away, and -

"I should?" Tom looks at the substance glistening around his wrist and frowns. Maybe IT is wrong
But his attempts to shake it off are useless, and when he tries to get ahold of it, worse still. He looks to the other man, blue eyes full of confusion.

"I - can't.

Help.

Casper?

Help?"

"Try to be calm," Darling says, doing his best to keep his voice even. As concerned as he is, panicking won't help the situation at all. Even if the wide, worried gaze that this man is casting at him twists something in his chest.

He moves closer, reaching for the slithering black shape to see if he can dislodge it, somehow. Only to have it crawl over to his arm and wrap around his wrist.

"Ah," he says, a little dully, and sits back on the ground with a sigh. "Well. It's off you, anyway."

As soon as the substance is off of his wrist, Tom's head clears - he grasps at it with one hand, groaning a little. He's still kind of high, the mushrooms still coursing through him, but...what WAS that?

And now, how is he going to get it off of this man? This very, very familiar man?

"Perkele, Darling, it - are you okay? That shit messes with your head...."

Darling blinks slowly. Then tries it again. First one eye squeezed shut, then the other, then opening both again. He feels a little dizzy sitting there, so maybe this man had the right idea with lying down.

So Darling lies back against the ground with a thoughtful noise. Staring up at the sky. "I know that word," he mumbles, not exactly talking to his new (old?) friend but speaking loud enough to be heard. "The first one. The not English one."

"It's...it's Finnish. It's technically cursing, I guess, but it might as well just be punctuation for most of us."

But even as he's replying, he's casting an anxious look around for something he could use to get that substance off this man's wrist. Getting too close to it seems like a bad idea, they could be here all day...but when it was on him, there was a prickling sensation that seemed to imply it was well attached.

He starts to rifle around in his backpack, looking for something to try and pry it off, and...hm.

The sight of an old handheld Yashica camera stirs something in the back of his memory. Slowly, he looks over to the other man, narrowing his eyes and speaking slowly.

"...Hey, man, do you...."

(Why does saying this make him feel nervous?)

"Do you trust me?"

He squints, because the question feels familiar somehow. He can't place why, and he doesn't know if that's the (hopefully temporary) amnesia, or the weirdly sentient thing around his wrist making him dizzy. Blurring his mind around the edges.

"Sssure do," he finally answers. The words coming out disconcertingly slow. "Hmm. Odd. But... yes? Yes."

That answer makes him let out a little breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding.

Well, here goes nothing.

Carefully, he reaches out towards the parasite on Darling's arm, blue eyes blazing as he reaches into the fog of his mind, trying to focus on something he can just barely feel there. It's difficult, and it's like fighting uphill, but -

There's a flicker of his image, for just a moment. Like the stutter of film being scrubbed. He gasps a little, panting with exertion and surprise both.

"Okay. Okay, I think I can...I think this might work...."

"Hm?" The man seems to -- glitch for a moment. And Darling isn't sure if it's the dizziness or if something is happening.

(Did the man ever say his name? He can't remember.)

But he's concentrating on something, that much is clear. Whatever he's doing is making the parasite on his wrist squirm uncomfortably, and Darling holds very. Very still.

"I trust you," he says again, a little nervous but there.

Reaffirmed. The go-ahead to try and do...this. Whatever this is.

So Tom tries again, flexing a muscle he can't quite remember how to move as reality stutters again. Skips. Blinks. He feels like he can move the thing, maybe, to try and pluck it from its current position and move it away. This, unfortunately, does not work.

What DOES work is the mark his currently-latent powers carry, as he tries to aim them at the goo.

The pure darkness at the bottom of a deep lake is very, very cold.

The goo shivers and writhes on Darling's wrist as the man aims his powers at it, as though protesting his attempts at destroying it. But then it stops. Just for a moment, before squirming frantically.

It moves onto Darling's hand, looping around his palm, weaving around his fingers in some futile attempt to escape before it comes to a halt. And freezes. And finally, shatters.

Darling shakes his hand quickly, watching the black dust fall from it, and clears his throat a little as he sits up. "Thank you for that, Tom."

And then he blinks, finally looking at his companion again. "That is your name isn't it? Tom. Tom Zane. We've met."

When the substance falls away from Darling's arm, Tom's exertion ceases - he falls backward a little onto his elbows, panting and shivering.

"Thank FUCK."

The words catch his attention, though, his name spoken in a tone and a voice both well-known to some part of his mind. Struggling back up into a sitting position, he rakes his hands through his dark curls, trying to think through the fog as it begins to clear.

"Yeah, I'm - my name is Tom Zane. I'm a Poet. Wait...wait. Diver? Film...maker." He reels, clenching his eyes shut.

"I was in...WE were in....

Six...six...five?"

"We were somewhere dark." Darling moves over to sit next to the man -- Tom, he knows now. He sits next to Tom, resting a steadying hand against his back while he works on recovering from whatever it was he was just doing. Not magic, no, that's not the right word. But the proper word still feels just beyond his grasp.

He can come back to that.

"Six six five..." he repeats to himself, wracking his brain. Something else comes up, unrelated to Tom. A woman, he was speaking to. She'd asked for something, and six-six-five was the answer. "The neighbour of the beast?" he asks, not to Tom, but to himself.

"A Dark Place."

He's shaking a little, but Darling's hand on his back feels familiar, steadying. He drops his hands from his head to tent his fingers over his lips.

It all feels on the tip of his tongue, but so far away. The other man's murmuring makes him frown, squint, tilt his head a little.

"...It was my...room number.

The Ocean...something.

Perkele, my head is killing me. I need a damn drink."

"Understandable." Darling blows out a breath, unconsciously rubbing slow circles against Tom's back.

The Oceansomething is pinging around his brain. A lot of things, actually. Like someone upended a bucket of rubber balls and they're all bouncing around, trying to find a place to settle.

"View?" he finally comes up with. "Oceanview? It's a place. Not the actual ocean, but... hmm." The more he tries to think, the further things feel from his grasp.

Oh. That's familiar, too. It's all making his head swim, all these far away thoughts just out of his reach. And the exertion of...whatever that thing he did was has him a little wobbly and winded.

He leans into this familiar stranger, hissing out a shaky breath as he tries to piece together his thoughts with the hints Casper is finding.

"Oceanview. The Oceanview Hotel. Number three, Cord Street.

What was I doing there...? Were you with me?"

"Yes. No? A motel. There was a light switch. A chain, you'd pull it..." With his fee hand, he rubs at his eyes under his glasses.

"I don't think you were at the motel. Not mine, anyway. Where we were was just. It was darkness, all around. And I was there... and then you found me. I don't know where you were before that."

"I found you?"

Fuck, this is difficult. He grabs his backpack, rummaging around in it and pulling out his camera. Just to hold it, tracing the lines of it with his fingers as though in meditation.

"That's right...you were...calling out? And you-"

He sits straighter, looking to Darling, wide blue eyes lighting with a fragment of memory.

"You needed an artist...?"

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

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