bondedmeme | TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME | #01

Test-Drive-Meme #01

Welcome to our first ever TDM! This is open to all players looking to join our game or simply have some fun. Play on this TDM does not equate to intent or obligation to apply to join. Players on this TDM should follow all game rules and Characters should meet all game suitability standards per our FAQ. TDM threads are considered game canon for characters who join! The Moon Pact is in power for the full duration of this TDM, putting Sun Pact characters as in service. Moon Pact bindings are presently glittering silver and Sun Pact bindings are unpolished brass. Pact and Class can both be freely player assigned and swapped at will for the purpose of the TDM.

Overseer, Awaken and Conquer

CW: Descriptions of dubiously consensual touch, choking, hallucinations, falling.

The Hands that Grasp

Consciousness wanes. From calm oblivion reaches a pair of elegant hands. Fingertips caress, trailing physical form, mapping curves and divots. Some dark or desperate compulsion leans into the comfort of this touch. The hands dig in. Clasping tight at the neck and pull downward. Down and down, through unclear space, through unclear time. Your character awakens with a start. Where they last felt those hands grasping into them, a collar now rests. Prying does not budge the solid metal, which is either of silver or of brass. Before their eyes is a pane of stained glass. Inscribed in a language all can read are the words Overseer, Awaken and Conquer.

The Glass Coffins

Overseers awaken, contained within a coffin of ornate, metal framework and glass. For some, a light push will cause the lid to swing open. For others, the enclosure may stick or prove too heavy to budge. Breaking free is an option, though mysteriously, the glass fully repairs itself within minutes of sustaining damage. Other Overseers may be present throughout the hallways, willing and able to aid in opening stubborn coffins. That is, should their unlucky inhabitants be able to get their attention through the sound dampening barrier. Overseers continually awaken, either individually or in batches, throughout the month. This will last until the day of the upcoming solstice.

The Gilded Cradle

Innumerable rows of glass coffins line the interior of a grand cathedral tower. Somehow, the name of this stained glass spire is imprinted in the mind of all Overseers. This is known as the Gilded Cradle within Absentia. Where or what is Absentia? How did they arrive here? Why are they here? The answers to such questions remain unknown. These names are as far as the foreign memory serves Overseers. The foggy corridors spiral downward, a staircase connecting floor after floor of largely unopened coffins. Many have glass too hazy to see within. The hallways are heavy with the scent of lavender tinged magic and lightning storm ozone, made visible as a thick haze in the air. Through this fog, Overseers may notice one another or they may see phantoms running by. People familiar to them. Chasing after these figments is a foolish endeavor, they will pick up speed into the thick of the fog. There, they will disappear. This can leave unsuspecting Overseers teetering on the topmost edge of a stairwell or allow their momentum to throw them over the central railing. A fall to the Cradle's ground floor isn't enough to kill an Overseer turns out, but it will injure. Beginning your journey battered is merely an added misfortune.

The Castle Constructs

When Overseers leave the Gilded Cradle, they find they're trapped within an abandoned castle. While exploring they find no other living creatures other than fellow Overseers. Throughout the halls and rooms of the castle rest Constructs. These figures are shells of either iron or brass, with a variety of gargoyle-like appearances. They stand with their wings tucked around their bodies. Littered throughout the location, their placements can often clue in to their former duties as the Castle attendants. These Constructs remain completely inert until two Overseers of the same Pact pass by. Iron Constructs react to pairs of Moon Pact members, while Brass Constructs come alive near pairs of Sun Pact members. When awakened, they unfurl and stand to a height ranging from around three-to-six foot tall. The Constructs promptly begin to carry out butler-like duties, as if they were long ago set to a schedule of operation. When presented with a task they can no longer seem to accomplish, they merely pantomime the action before moving onward. (These NPCs can be player controlled and are non-hostile unless attacked first.)

Locked In

CW: Survival themes, food insecurity, exchanging sex for goods and services.

The Kitchen

The kitchen of Absentia is vast, meant to accommodate for a castle population in the hundreds. Long abandoned, any food reserves have turned to dust or rot. All that remains are a series of strange machines, humming with dull magic. Only operable by the castles resident Constructs, hungry Overseers would be advantaged to activate the inactive Constructs scattered nearby. Once occupying the kitchen, Constructs are more likely to provide a meager serving of food to Overseers who have used magic recently or who hold Influence. (Characters playing this TDM with no canon powers may presume they hold (1) Influence for this and subsequent prompts.)

The Hall of Overseers

To the west of the Gilded Cradle there lies a long, rectangular housing structure, framing a vast courtyard. Rain from the storm overhead patters down constantly. Rooms for Overseers line the open air hallways overlooking the nature within the central outdoor space. At this time, those of the Moon Pact enjoy the lower floors of the indoor sections, with luxurious accommodations. These include private rooms with a fireplace, claw foot baths with clean running water, a variety of furniture, and a plush bed. The upper level indoor rooms are for the Overseers presently in service, the Sun Pact. These rooms are all shared and scarcely furnished. Hammocks and bunk beds are provided to house three or four Overseers per cramped room. These upper location hallways have shared bathroom spaces and no private amenities provided. Overseer names are engraved upon the door frame of their assigned rooms. There is no access given to rooms without this engraving. Overseers need to be invited in to rooms they do not own or share. (Rooms are fully self assigned by Players and can change freely between threads. Pact is likewise self assigned, but should match the room type described above. Moon Pact characters are free to invite Sun Pact characters into their rooms, and visa-versa.)

The Hands that Feed

As Overseers settle in, they find resources are thin and accessible castle space highly limited. There is no exit from the castle at this time. Trying to fly out over the top of Hall of Overseers courtyard results in perpetually being turned around by the Storm until exhausted. Overseers who try to smash windows or break through the architecture find their magic or strength immediately drained. Teleportation leads back to where one attempted to leave from. The trap feels inescapable. This inevitably creates an air of frustration and futility within the awakened Overseer ranks. All there is to do is to make do.

➤Attentive characters will discover quickly that Constructs bring extra rations as room service to those in Power. This at first appears exclusive to the Moon Pact within the Hall of Overseers. The Constructs do this when Overseers have sex in the luxury of the lower floor rooms. However, the Constructs range of understanding is a bit impaired, so fucking in the courtyard also works to call food and drink, regardless of Pact alignment.

➤For those seeking a more direct approach to acquiring extra rations, there's always robbery. The Constructs are not highly fortified. Their routes from the kitchen to the Hall of Overseers are easy enough to intercept. They do resist Overseers who attempt to steal from them, defending the food if attacked. Overseers who damage Constructs find they simply curl back into their wings, where they become both immobile and invulnerable from further damage. They will repair themselves in time and do not... appear... to hold a grudge. The Overseers whose meals were hijacked might, though.

The Courtyard

The courtyard at the center of the Hall of Overseers is a public space with five distinct sections. At the center, there is an ornate fountain that serves as the most reliable, public spot for clean drinking water. The fountain depicts the three Classes, though all of them are partially destroyed. The Ruler has their hands broken off, the Dragon is missing its head, and the pegasus shaped Herald has a hole in its chest. Grimly, the water flows from each of these missing pieces into the pool below. This space is open and visible to all, especially from the higher rooms of the Hall. This central location serves well as a social hub and meet up point for Overseers to congregate, though it is perpetually raining here.

➤Heralds and Dragons experience their first urge to transform within the Courtyard. They are able to resist it, if their willpower is sufficiently high, but the compulsion is strong. Dragons feel a need to shed their skin, to fly and be free. There is not much room for multiple, large dragons to do either of these things. Mind your wings! Heralds begin to feel territorial, wishing to reinvigorate the long dead space. Heralds are able to terraform within the confines of garden planters as they see fit, but they may find them destroyed by Dragons or usurped by other Heralds. Miniature territory disputes may serve as practice for times ahead. Rulers can hear mysterious whispers throughout the Courtyard, but especially nearby the fountain. If they acknowledge these whispers aloud, they will get a response. Those Rulers who listen closely can hear the mocking words "you're not leaving this time."

The other four quadrants surrounding the central fountain are overgrown and wild, contrasting the initially desolate central area. These spaces are each themed to a different season; spring, summer, fall, and winter. Once Overseers enter one of the gated in spaces, the area within appears larger than the outside barrier suggests. The temperature varies wildly between each, though the Storm over head remains consistent. Each contains a singular hideaway which the Constructs will bring food to. These shield Overseers from outside view, but may turn out to be in hot demand. Mind yourselves if trying to sneak into one of these spots for privacy, they may already be taken! (Each hideaway may be customized at player discretion to suit their threads. A single piece of furniture for leisure may be present, like a lounge or hammock. Some ideas for natural spaces would be hidden behind a waterfall, beneath a canopy of trees, a frosty cave, or an alcove hidden by fallen leaves.)

Grief Hath Mates

Class Scenarios

Note: The following prompts are available for all Players, though abilities should always match up with a character's present Class! Class for characters on the TDM can change between threads, but should not change mid-thread. This fully locks down upon acceptance to the game. Characters are presently "unstable" in their Pact and Class assignments, so all threads can remain canon, even if they contradict Pact or Class assigned later on. Any changes made to shared setting environments below are temporary, so feel free to play with destructive and creation powers as specified.

RULERS

➤Rulers who attempt to speak to the Constructs will find they are reacted to in a way the Dragons and Heralds are not. Constructs do not speak back, but they are more attentive towards Rulers regardless of their Influence level. If asked where something is, Constructs will dutifully guide the Ruler to the location in question if it exists. Sometimes, Constructs will open up previously locked doors. None of these lead outside, but they offer some new clues to how the castle once operated in the past. Rulers can open up additional rooms to explore such as a drawing room, a music room, a wine cellar, and a smoking room. These rooms all have basic supplies for their given activity, including aged wine and cigars in the latter two respectively. Rulers with clever tongues or manipulative sensibilities can convince the Constructs to leave them “in charge” of a room. This grants the Ruler a key to the door they can leverage as they please. (Players can play their Ruler as if they hold exclusive control of a room, but this is not imposed TDM-wide. Multiple Rulers can each claim the same type room, no player actually holds full IC/OOC control.)

DRAGONS

➤Dragons are going to be the first to snap under such cramped conditions. Their natural urges are to spread out and fly, not be stuck within a castle. The more volatile Dragons will find their natural instinct is to go Berserk. Berserk mode can be engaged in either their humanoid or Dragon form, though Dragons can only transform at this time within the confines of the Courtyard. If Dragons are causing trouble in the Courtyard, luring or forcing them out of the Courtyard at large forces a Dragon to return to their humanoid form. Getting in fights may not be productive, but it might provide some enrichment to Overseers wishing to challenge each other or keep the peace. (Reminder: Dragons, regardless of form, are especially durable and may prove difficult to subdue! Rulers are best suited to this task, given they have a natural advantage over Dragons. Heralds can make their own attempts, it is simply more risky for them given how fragile they are.) Dragons of more even temperaments can make themselves productive by using relevant elemental magic around the castle. The castle interior is lit only by the dull glow of the sun or moon, which are often dulled by the cloud cover overhead. Providing temperature control or lighting could be a great ease to their own mental state, as well as benefit their fellow Overseers.

HERALDS

➤While cooked rice, dried meat, and pickled vegetables are largely what is being provided, there is a distinct lack of fruit or alcohol coming out of the kitchen. Heralds may find themselves especially desperate for these. Within the courtyard only, they can flex their newly found Class abilities to rapidly influence nature. Heralds may find themselves having vivid daydreams about their favorite fresh fruits from home. These fantasies manifest, growing the imagined fruits from nearby vines, bushes, and trees. This can happen deliberately or entirely by accident. However, due to the imperfect nature of both memory and imagination, these fruits are never fully accurate recreations. The taste and quality of the fruit end up heavily influenced by a Herald’s own subjective experience and are prone to exaggeration. Any fruit from any world is allowed, these simply cannot cause any magical effects. Devious Heralds which imagine poisonous fruits can injure, but not kill fellow Overseers. Such produce can be used to make alcohol by those with the knowledge and wherewithal to do so. Any manner of food is in demand and Heralds have this to provide. Replenishing energy though sex is always an option to help produce more or better resources of this kind.

OOC Info

What happens next?

On the 21st of June, the Pacts will turn over. For the IC duration of the TDM, the Moon Pact are in power. Those assigned to the Sun Pact will start the game off proper as the faction in power. Characters who are accepted into the game will be freed from the confines of the castle. The game will greet new players with a Mingle Event and Network Introduction Post, once all applications are processed. The storm will pull back at the start of July, allowing even further world exploration and Territory claims. Our first plot event will focus on discovering the threat that the Lost Souls of this world can present.

Can I reserve my character before applying?

If you want to claim a character spot in advance of applications opening, our Reserves Page opens on the 10th of June, through to the 15th. This is not required for application, but highly recommended even for original or obscure characters. Reserving provides an instant-pass through 1st month game Activity Check! It also provides Moderation with an idea of incoming player numbers!

How do I apply to join the game?

Head over to our Application Page. These open up on June 15th and close on the 20th. The game officially opens on the 21st of June, barring any unexpected delays.

Is there an OOC space I can discuss potential plans?

Take a look at our Enable-me-Please for OOC discussions and plotting!

(CODE)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Overseer, Awaken and Conquer

not

Overseer, Awaken and Conquer

Then

Bāngbāng wǒ

The Courtyard

had

this

hers

rippled

Mīn!

Wildcard

((Have any other ideas? I'm game!))

(((OOC: Hover over the Chinese words and there's a translation!!)))

Though the seasonal sections were entertaining, and Ranni had been enjoying the snow and the chill through the winter gate, she nonetheless decides to return to the inner courtyard for further contemplation of the clues given. The statue of the three figures, she is certain, is important to this place. Others like herself have obviously had similar thoughts, and it is there that Ranni finds a woman crouched over dark soil, weaving magic through its grains and beckoning forth vibrant trees.

Ranni eyes the trees in mild interest. Where one pair of hands steeples thoughtfully against her chest, sleeves slipped down far enough to reveal the interior metal of her form where the exterior porcelain has broken away, the other pair is held up, palms open, in the universal sign of peace.

"I am unarmed,
and nought but a humble witch
of no renown.
I pose thee no threat."

That's mostly lies, but Ranni has absolutely no intention of launching an attack at this moment, so she isn't a threat. At least for now. Her lambent blue eye gazes down at the woman, largely impassive, with the faintest hint of curiosity. She does not clothe herself like a woman overly given to snarling, territorial displays ⸻ no, her dress is far too fine for that, a woman of stature and bearing, not little but primal instinct.

"'tis a mighty magic you display,
to bring such life forth from mere soil."

Inara's head whipped to the side, her eyes narrowing as she took in the woman before her. Her eyebrows drew together as she studied her. Porcelain? That made no sense. Though any confusion or thoughts drifted away as the primal urge to protect what was hers welled up within her once more.

"Mine", she reiterated, fingers curling deeper into the soil. Even as she was talking she could feel herself changing. She still had the warm, olive skin tone, the same soft curve of her jawline. But beneath that familiar skin, her entire biology was shifting into something ancient and wild.

She reached up with one hand, soil clinging to her perfectly manicured fingers that trembled as they brushed her collarbone. The sensation was deeply jarring. Her skin no longer gave way like soft flesh. It felt like polished willow bark—hard, ridged, and unyielding.

Internally, it felt as though her bones were thickening, stretching, and turning into dense, heavy heartwood. The blood in her veins felt thick and sweet, moving with the agonizingly slow, powerful pressure of rising sap. It didn’t hurt, which somehow made it more terrifying.

I am Inara Serra of the House of Madrassa, she reminded herself, forcing her chin up out of sheer habit. I am a master of my own body. I am the vessel of my own art.

But her body was wrestling away her control.

A sudden, sharp warmth bloomed across her shoulders. A faint, intoxicating scent filled the air around her as small, pristine white jasmine blossoms burst directly through her skin. The sensation was a strange mix of an itch and an electric pulse, a tiny explosion of life tearing through her pores.

It was beautiful. It was absolutely horrifying.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. The woman, the porcelain woman was saying something about magic. She stared at the woman, her eyes wide in a mixture of confusion and horror. The whites of her eyes were fading, completely swallowed by a deep, liquid forest-green that pooled outward from her pupils.

"I-I don't understand what is happening to me..."

Edited (typo, sorry!) 2026-05-25 17:32 (UTC)

Ranni watches with open thoughtfulness, like a scholar observing something interesting they have just found in the field. She watches as the woman's skin turns hard and almost polished, its sheen bright and sharp rather than the softness of skin. Flowers burst from that wood like wounds opening under a blade, and the very verdant green of a deep forest bleeds into the whites of her eyes.

Ranni, no stranger to transformation both ill and fortunate, finds herself thinking that this is among the more beautiful she has witnessed. A spectacular woman turned into a spectacular creature of green wildness and delicate petals.

Though her expression does not become openly sympathetic, Ranni's voice nonetheless is pitched a touch softer than usual when she says:

"Thou art becoming,
and being made anew.
'tis the magic of this place;
a compulsion to shed thy form
and to take on another,
more wild and untamed."

That, at least, is her speculation. This is not the first time Ranni has come across someone transforming, and the first that she had witnessed had spoken of a deep compulsion to cast aside her form and assume another. Ah, it almost makes Ranni nostalgic ⸻ but she had chosen to discard her own natural form, eons ago. Here, these people are not choosing to do so. The terror in this woman's eyes is stark, and almost tugs at Ranni's long-frozen, long-rusted heartstrings.

She steps forward, and crouches down, the hem of her white dress folding against the soil which they're standing on. Ranni offers two hands, her lower pair, palm upwards. The cold she radiates is intense.

"Take mine hands,
and anchor thyself.
We shall breathe together,
and in centering thyself,
thee shalt find stability."

Maeve had been keeping an eye and an ear out for people still stuck in the coffins. It was a freaky way to come into wherever the hell here was, and she sure as shit didn't want anyone to get stuck in one of them. The sounds of whoever was stuck in this one trying and failing to get it open had her picking up the pace.

Grasping hands searched for the latch, figuring that was probably safer than just busting it up if someone inside was unprepared. It took a moment but she found it, the catch giving way, strong arms lifting the lid clear and giving her a good look at the occupant.

Maeve put on her best, most sympathetic smile, and offered the dark haired woman a hand up.

"Yeah, I think we all have, but we'll figure a way out of this. For now, let's get you clear. Are you hurt at all?"

A woman with a fierce, regal countenance stood over the coffin, her dark hair framing a surprisingly beautiful face. Inara's Companion training instinctively kicked in, her mind automatically cataloging the stranger's posture. Not Alliance, Inara thought swiftly, noting the lack of cold, bureaucratic precision. And certainly not a rim-world scavenger. The woman wore unique, high-quality armor — not scrap, but something engineered for a warrior of high status.

The stranger stood tall, silhouetted against the dim room, and Inara looked up again, her gaze locking onto the woman's eyes. She had a had a hardness about her, and was obviously very strong.And despite everything, the out-stretched hand, well, the gesture was undeniably protective. Recognizing that this powerful stranger could be an ally — at least for now — Inara let out her held breath. She reached up, placed her hand into the gauntlet, and let the warrior woman pull her up from her transparent tomb.

"T-thank you," she managed, her voice shakier than she cared for. "I didn't know how to get out. Thank you." Her eyebrows drew together and she gave a swift shake of her head. "I believe I'm alright, all things considered." A pause. "Are you okay?"

((I'm just assuming she's in her armor. If not, I apologize!!))

Maeve, for her part, looked the stranger over with a different kind of care. She checked for bumps and bruises, odd lumps to indicate weapons, and lingered just for a moment on her eyes. Once the woman was clear of her imprisonment her stance shifted to a more watchful and wary one, attention focused more on the other coffins for just a moment.

"Good," Maeve offered, and hearing no other coffins shifting her thoughts return to the stranger. She huffed a weak laugh, nodding in answer to the question. "I'm good. Confused but good."

Her voice dropped a little, irritation at the situation barely hidden behind what she hoped came across as calm and soothing. A perceptive person would have no trouble making out that she was frustrated, but could they really blame her?

"Before ask, I don't know where we are, but we should probably stick together anyway. This whole hall is filled with these weird coffins, and not much else."

Maria is quick to put her hands up. She's understood the feeling of wanting to protect what is hers, especially when it comes things being grown. It is special. Important.

And he last thing she wants to do is get on this woman's bad side.

"Whoa, I don't plan on doing anything. I was just looking. That's all."

Maria would rather understand how she'd been able to do it all. Nothing Maria tried to do worked out and well, also? She just wanted excuses to be able to talk to people.

The damp soil of the stone planter felt like velvet against Inara her fingertips, an anchor in a world that was rapidly losing its meaning. Her skin looked normal, retaining its warm, olive hue, but underneath, she felt the unmistakable, heavy pull of the earth. She was changing into something elemental, a dryad bound to the ancient, carved stone container before her, and that fierce, irrational possessiveness continued to burn deep in her chest.

This planter was hers. The soil was hers.

Despite the pretty woman's instance of doing nothing, Inara didn't relax. She shifted her weight, deliberately placing herself between Maria and the stone planter, her eyes tracking the other woman's every movement. As she watched the woman, the whites of her eyes disappeared, swallowed by a deep, liquid forest-green that pooled outward from her pupils.

Frowning, she reached up with one hand, soil coating her trembling fingers as they brushed her collarbone. Her skin no longer gave way like soft flesh did, it felt like bark - hard and unyielding. She should have been questioning what was happening to her, and she would, just after she made sure Maria understood.

"Looking is close enough to touching," Inara said, her voice carrying a strange, resonant echo that sounded like rustling leaves. "And this place does not belong to you. Leave it be."

Fabian's in A Mood. Of course, he's always in a mood, so it's hard to say if this is just his default levels of bitchiness, or if the itching, burning feeling running under his skin is responsible for this particular mood.

Whatever the reason, it means he's feeling extra charming and reasonable when Inara scolds him for the crime of walking near her little plot of land.

(Walking. Ugh. Even that feels like an absolute ordeal right now. His feet, the same feet he's had his entire life, suddenly feel like... like they belong to somebody else. Don't think about it, don't think about it...)

"Fine, it's yours! What makes you think I even want your little patch of dirt?" he snaps in return. It is, of course, a lie. Now that she's staked her claim, he does think this piece of the courtyard would be better suited under his rule...

Fabian makes a show of looking unbothered as he crosses his arms and examines his nails.

"And anyway, I have my own, far superior territory elsewhere. Much better suited to one of my pedigree than this... hobby garden."

This is also a lie. He has no territory yet. Damn it, what has he been doing with his time here?

Edited 2026-05-26 00:36 (UTC)

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TEST DRIVE MEME | #01

Inara Serra | Firefly | Sun/Herald

courtyard

no subject

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Coffins

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Courtyard

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the courtyard