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Test Drive Meme #2 - Overflow

🦋 Expand for Test Drive #2 Prompts
🦋 Introduction
Welcome to the Pixie Led Test Drive Meme!
The prompts will always be game canon, provided both characters who participate in a thread are either already in the game, or get accepted in the next application round.
You do not need an invitation to join the Test Drive Meme, it's open for anyone!
Please indicate character name and canon in the subject line of your top-level. For current characters, you may also indicate your character's court.
For prospective players, Invites open on the 18th, Reserves on the 20th, and Applications on the 22nd. Thanks for checking us out and we hope you'll join us!
🦋 The Party
You wake up at a party.
You're not sure how, exactly, you got here. You may have just been walking in the woods or at a meeting for work or doing any other normal activity for you. But you know you weren't supposed to be at this party, you're fairly certain.
Anyone you ask about it will say the party is for you. You and the others also waking up and looking confused. Further questions will lead to the partygoers insisting you have something to eat. You're starving and others are eating the food without repercussion, so you figure there's no harm in a bite. You finish your portion.
It's a garden party at the crack of dawn, with the sun still in its early stages of climbing through the yonder, casting a good mix of pastel hues of blue, pink, and beige on everything. Heralding the first day of spring, the Ruler of the Spring Court has found it fitting to arrange this gathering where guests can feel the blades of grass touching their ankles, as well as the rich soil beneath their feet. Flowers of all kinds surround the party as if they were carefully curated. With spring as the "dawn of seasons," which marks a transition from winter's latency to the resurgence of life everywhere, the Ruler of the Dawn Court has also seen it fit to host aspects of this party during the one time of the year that dawn occurs the whole day. Tall candles and torches grace the outskirts of the garden party, providing warmth and an orange glow everywhere. Not one flame goes out even with the occasional wind, the Duchess always makes sure of this.
There are also freshly picked blossoms and branches with leaves on every table accenting the festive spread of food and drinks. This time, a lot of the food prepared for the Adopted guests are familiar to them with a little bit of a twist. Burgers might come in small packages and in toothpicks, while hotdogs in buns are also diminutive. Cookies look delectable but they have a flowery flavor to them, as if eating freshly picked daisies or daffodils. Fruits that may have been present in an Adopted's home, such as pineapples and watermelons, have seeds in odd places. Picking this selection of food is an attempt to be more welcoming and to appease the lovely guests the fae have invited.
As the party winds down and everyone's eaten, a tall, stately woman stands up and speaks. You feel her voice more than hear it.
I am the Lawspeaker of the Fae, elected by Seelie and Unseelie alike, and you are all, now, subjects of Faerie. You cannot leave this realm once you have eaten our food, and even if you could, there is no saying how much time has passed back where you're from. Your loved ones are likely dead, your problems have likely played out. We require assistance in various matters, and each of you has been chosen for your talent and skill. You will be adopted by one of the Seelie or Unseelie Courts based on your strengths and personality. Your Court will decide what to do with you from there.
As suddenly as she stood, she sits back down.
🦋 Chance at a Dance
A party is not complete without dancing, of course, and while during the last gathering held for the Adopted, different fae danced to music exclusively for them around a glowing tree, this time they are insisting their guests to join in.
This is a party for you, after all.
If the prodding of the different fae hosts won't convince you, perhaps the music will. They play easily recognizable tunes that their wonderful guests must have heard before. These melodies have certain unique effects to their mortal attendees, which are as follows:
- Upbeat Music: You will believe that you and your dance partner have been friends forever and have known each other a long time.
- Romantic Music: You will become amorous and flirtatious towards your dance partner.
- Slow Music: You will develop some tension with your dance partner. It may be negative or sexual; completely up to you.
- Quiet Music: You will assume your dance partner is a threat and try to fight them.
🦋 Flower Power
At the Spring King's behest, every Adopted should wear a flower corsage or boutonnière to the gathering. After all, this is to celebrate the coming of spring and what better way to do that than to honor everything in bloom.
The thing is, though, the King of Spring, while amorous and friendly, also has a penchant for playing with mortals' memories, if not also affect their desires and despairs.
So, mischievous as he is, he made sure to enchant the different flowers present in every corsage and boutonnière for the party with the effects below:
- Rose: You will recall a horrific trauma
- Carnation: You will see a vision of your future, whether it's good or bad
- Orchid: You will remember a time you lost someone
- Chrysanthemum: You will believe someone among the Adopted is your soulmate
- Dahlia: You will believe you betrayed someone important to you, whether you actually did or not
It is perhaps a good thing that no one but the Adopted are allowed to see these visions and memories, but everyone who wears a corsage or boutonnière will be able to see each other's memories and visions when in close enough physical proximity to the vision-haver, for better or for worse.
🦋 GEIS
You feel a vibration in your pocket sometime after the Lawspeaker addresses everyone. When you search for the source, you will pull out your Leaf, the device the Fae use to stay in touch with each other. Anyone who's used a smart phone will easily recognize how it works.
Greetings, Adopted. This is your Lawspeaker.
Tell us all of a time you gave someone a gift. Perhaps a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates. Was it appreciated or not? A reward might await the most meaningful gift given.
Rogue | XMCU (Overflow)
🦋 The Party
Rogue's surprised by how hungry she is, and how quickly she scarfs down the dinner she's given without questioning how smart that really is. But everything about this is strange and she's not certain that she's not dreaming.
Nothing's stranger, though, than what the tall woman gets up and says.
There's a lot to unpack there, a lot she could focus on. Stuff about the Fae and her being there for her talent and skill (whatever that means, and later, she'll be concerned that it means she's going to be used for her powers, which has never sat well with her). But, for now, she's focused on a few key things:
There is no saying how much time has passed back where you're from
Your loved ones are likely dead
Your problems have likely played out
It makes her blood run cold and whatever ease she'd felt when she'd been eating is gone. She's quick to turn to the closest person to her, never mind that they may or may not have any idea of what's going on either.
"What is this?"
🦋 Chance at a Dance
She's not convinced but there also doesn't seem to be a way out, at least not for now. So she lingers on the edges of the crowd, looking supremely uncomfortable. More so when she realizes that she recognizes most of the music being played.
There's something surreal about that, like the familiar notes don't quite belong in a place like this. And it doesn't do anything to soothe her already jangled nerves, even when she sees that other people are getting up to dance together.
The one playing now is one she's heard probably a thousand times and she glances over to another person who also isn't dancing. "Do you... are all these songs familiar to you too?"
🦋 Flower Power
She's given a corsage with an array of different flowers: a orchid surrounded by smaller rose, carnation, chrysanthemum, and dahlia blooms. And it's lovely.
Rogue's fiddling with it, the weight of it on her wrist keeping her attention when her memories shift:
A familiar hallway, lights dim but illuminating the metal panels of the floor and walls.
She feels weak, unsteady on her feet, enough so that whoever's holding her back can keep her from breaking free.
And she sees Bobby, surrounded by ice on three sides, blocking whatever's trying to break through, before a stream of flame breaks through the ice and engulfs him.
It's horrifying, and she can feel the terror in her own body, leaving her shaking in place.
🦋 GEIS
un: rogue
Been knitting people scarfs and hats for as long as I can remember.
I think they liked the cookies those things usually came with more. And, looking back, I can't really blame them. Especially the first few tries. They were technically scarfs and hats but nothing to write home about looks wise.
🦋 Wildcard
[ Happy to answer wildcard tags too! For the music prompt, I'm okay with all music types. And for the flower prompt, I used the carnation prompt but put all the flowers in her corsage so am game to use any of the flower prompts. ]
@ valle (flower power)
She's still not sure how Laura will respond to anything she says, so she's treading lightly, finding it easier to focus on making sure Laura's okay than thinking about her own riled-up feelings. But when she gets that reaction, her pensive expression relaxes into a startled smile as she reaches up to touch the white streak, almost like she'd forgotten it was there.
There's a story about it, and it's not a good one, but she's not going to say that. And, anyway, it's sort of grown on her too.
"Yeah? Thank you. But you should see what it looks like when I pull it straight back." She wrinkles her nose a little, but it's an amused, teasing gesture. "I look a little bit like a skunk."
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"Skunks are cute," she answers with a shrug, and with the blessed naivety of a person who has never had to smell them. She's only seen them in cartoons at the motels, or pictures in books, never seen them in real life. She is also a Certified Animal Lover, there are very few creatures on this or any other planet she wouldn't High-key Try To Pet. The beautiful thing about having such an insane healing factor is you can be real ballsy about stuff that might want to bite your entire hand off.
Not that anyone has let her get so bold with anything truly dangerous — except the dragon, of course. She felt bad about fighting the dragon. It was cute, too, except for all the trying to murder her friends parts.
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Anyway, the small smile is definitely noticed just as much as Laura’s guarded expression has been. Rogue understands it. She’s suspicious of everyone she doesn’t know in this place too. Sort of hard not to be when you’re dropped in a strange place by fae.
“Is someone looking out for you here?” She doesn’t realize Laura’s probably more than capable of looking after herself if she needs to, or how much the fae will provide for them. So, of course, she’s concerned that a 12 year old is wandering around here, being exposed to strangers’ horrific memories on top of her own, and not being fed anything that resembles something nutritious to boot.
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Instead, she says, "Si. There's a man here called Erik. He's like us."
Like us — she's assuming Rogue is a mutant, just based on that vision she witnessed. John and Bobby both are, and she knows them both — or, at least, she's heard of them both, so this woman probably is also. John doesn't seem like the type to know very many humans. The fact that she hasn't mentioned she's one too until now escapes her notice; either way, now it's out there.
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She's less glad about what she is told.
Rogue already knows Erik's around, thanks to John and his big mouth, so she's at least able to temper her reaction. Still, she can feel her pulse start to speed up and that familiar rushing starting in her ears, the one that drowns everything else out when she's subjected to a particularly horrific memory that doesn't belong to her. Pressing her lips together, she forces herself to inhale, to focus on something other than thinking about that night on Liberty Island. Focuses on what else Laura's said.
"You're a mutant?"
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Of all the memories Laura could have witnessed that belong to Rogue, it's for the best she didn't see the one she's reliving now. Having her relatively naive worldview surrounding Erik shatter right now would be devastating, particularly given all her very recent father issues. Watching one die is one thing; having another turn out to be the villain in someone else's story would be more complicated. He's tried to reinforce with her that he's not as good as she thinks he is, but the message hasn't really sunk in.
Something to address later, maybe.
"Si," she nods softly, flickering her eyes out to the rushing crowd around them — and then back again, to the kind woman with the pretty hair. "There are some more of us here."
A pause, and then curiosity gets the better of her.
"You are, too." Right? Did she guess correctly? "What do you do?"
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She smiles gently and nods. Normally, Rogue wouldn’t be comfortable announcing her mutant status to a complete stranger, never mind sharing what it is she does. It’s bad enough that, if any records from the Cure centers survived, she’s probably on a list somewhere. A giant red bullseye about a mutant who can steal the powers of other mutants, along with potentially sensitive memories that they otherwise might not want to share.
But Laura’s a child, and a mutant child at that, and it doesn’t feel like quite the same thing.
“You’re right. I… um.” It’s not as easy as saying she’s telepathic or can shoot laser beams from her eyes. And she doesn’t want to scare Laura off either by saying that her skin will hurt her.
“When I touch people — skin-to-skin — I borrow their powers. It’s why I wear gloves.” She lifts a hand, wiggling her fingers.
If she wants to get technical, she could probably call herself a power mimic. Sort of. With some extra bells and whistles. “But I don’t do that without permission.” It’s added so Laura doesn’t think she’s going to intentionally try to take her abilities.
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@ firings (geis)
[ Rogue blinks, trying to cover up any surprise in her expression because she doesn't think any trace of uncertainty is going to help her out here. Not with the guy who'd abandoned them all to chance after Magneto. Which is the first thing she wants to ask about, even before anything to do with the Professor or Hank, mostly because it makes her blood run cold and her vision darken around the edges.
There's talk about Magneto coming back to the Institute back home, talk about him helping them. Rogue's been less than enthusiastic about it, not that anyone's been listening to her objections.
And then there's Bobby, and that really isn't any of John's business, and not something she wants to discuss anyway. Because who else could Snowflake be? ]
What does that mean? I'm from you future? They can do that? [ The fae. ] Time travel? [ Not that that should be all that surprising considering everything else here. ]
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You're from my future. They're from our past. Potato tomato.
[ He clicks his lighter and there's just the barest hint of annoyance beginning to show in his expression. He and Rogue had always had a complicated relationship. He doesn't like to acknowledge, and will never admit, that it's because she came in between he and Bobby's friendship or whatever. And she's also even more of a nerd than he is.
During his canon point, though, it's only been Day 1 since he left them, so his attachment to the Institute hasn't been severed completely even if he wants to, because his Magneto back home hasn't brainwashed him to a darker path yet. Hasn't given him hair dye yet to bleach his hair or something. ]
They can do all bunch of stuff around here. Even sic a huge dragon at us. Destroyed the place a month ago.
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Of all the people who could be here, John is up there with the most complicated. But he's familiar. Weirdly so, because he looks exactly like he had that day he'd walked down the steps of the Blackbird and disappeared into the snow. ]
A dragon. [ There's faint disbelief tinging the words, because how could there not be? It sounds ludicrous, but everything about this is ludicrous, so, really, what's adding a dragon to the pile of impossible things. ]
Good thing they had you around then. [ What with the fire breathing and fire control and all. ]
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Saved a bunch of their loser asses. [ Not really. He only really cared to save Laura. And Erik if the latter didn't actually save him. He's not going to mention how the dragon actually threw him across a few feet, knocking him out, and requiring for Erik to carry him to the healers. ]
We just finished rebuilding days before this dumb party.
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Is it helpful to be antagonistic at all? No. Is she still likely to do it? Probably. ]
Uh huh. [ Good to see he's still him with the loser asses comment. ] Too bad they didn't just pull the plug on... whatever all this is and just send us home instead of rebuilding.
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[ John shrugs, clicking his lighter one last time before pocketing it. He gives Rogue a pointed glance. ]
They actually think we're very useful now thanks to the dragon attack. Probably why they kidnapped so many of you during this party.
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@ closecall (chance at a dance)
Rogue laughs -- she can't help it, this feels like seeing a long-lost friend after years apart. And there's a certain giddiness to it that she doesn't quite understand but also isn't examining.
"You're already making plans for us tomorrow?" Her amusement is evident, even if she can't see his face. She almost has the sense that she should already know what he looks like, because they're friends, and friends know that sort of thing.
"Not my fault if I drop you then. Lucky for you, you have this fancy helmet to break your fall," she says, falling into step with him and tapping against the front of it with one finger before putting her hand back on his shoulder.
The Party
At least he knows someone here. And soon her voice is breaking through his thoughts. He turns to look at her, and for a moment he's transported back to a passenger car on a train, where she's looking at him the same way. 'You promise?'
"I have no clue, kid." His voice is low, but he does the best to mask the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts storming through his mind. Is it comical? Is it terrifying and disconcerting? Or E, all of the above?
"But it ain't the first time I don't have a damn clue what's goin' on is it?"
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She’s not really paying attention to who she’s talking to, her eyes still on the tall woman with a sort of horrified realization that they’re stuck here. Wherever here is, and it sure as hell ain’t Kansas anymore, Toto. The idea of that is claustrophobic in a way she can’t quite place, because she’s suddenly certain they’re not leaving, that there’s not a door that’s going to take them to a bus or plane to head home.
But the familiar voice is enough to break her focus on the rest of this bizarre situation and her eyes go wide.
“Logan?” It’s tentative because now she’s shifting back into thinking maybe this is just a really just a dream, because not only should he not be here, but he isn’t even around back home. She hasn’t seen him for years, hasn’t heard from him either for that matter, and while she’s turned over what she’d do if she ever got the opportunity to give him a piece of her mind about that a million times in her head, the reality of it leaves her nearly unable to say anything.
Though she manages: “Are you… are you real?”
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Are you...are you real?
"Ro– Marie. " He recalls the subject of her name being the last conversation between them. "Yeah, I'm real. I –" There's a pause as his eyes shift away, and for a brief moment, he wishes he had a whisky to chase away the dryness in his mouth. He should apologize, he thinks. He should try to bridge the chasm that had grown because of his departure and lack of communication, but there's too much to say. And there's too much already going on – being stuck in a realm away from everything they ever knew.
"Yeah I'm real." He repeats. "But I'm not sure about anythin' else bein' real right now."
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She hasn't used the name Marie in years. Not since the Cure had failed.
"Rogue. It's... It's Rogue." It's not meant to be a rebuke, or a petty take back where she doesn't want him using her birth name as retribution for him leaving. It's more of a resigned correction that only just barely manages to cut through the surprise in her expression.
"You and me both. Don't usually have conversations about things being a dream with other people in my dreams though."
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"Rogue." He echoes her name with a short nod of his head, acknowledging her preference. The action mirrors a moment years prior, in which they stood in the middle of the hallway at the mansion with her bag in hand.
Just think about what I said Rogue.
Marie.
Marie.
"Fair enough. That doesn't happen in mine either." He glances at the glass of water on the table, letting a short silence fall between them. Logan doesn't know where to start – doesn't know which elephant to address first.
Finally his eyes shift to her once more, "I was on my way back...to the school before wakin' up here."
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She sounds vaguely skeptical, a well-honed defense mechanism more than anything else: if she doesn't believe it, she doesn't have to be disappointed if it ends up untrue. But the thing is, no matter how much a part of her wants to shut down, tell herself it doesn't matter, she obviously can't, because for all of her internal bluster about wanting to get angry and indignant all she really wants to do is give him a hug and plead with him to never run off again.
Nothing about their current situation is ideal for that. But she can improvise. They're outside, in a garden, and while they can't leave, they can at least get to the fringes of it and sit down, even if it's on the grass. Rogue tilts her head, gesturing in the direction of a spot that looks empty enough. "C'mon. I hate crowds." It's muttered, soft, but she knows he can hear her.
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text | un: nightcrawler
a handmade gift from someone that you love is surely always appreciated. even if perhaps it is not the most skilled of creations, ja?
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Kurt?
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you know
rogue being the word it is
some rebellious young man could have used it instead.
the knitting was not particularly reminiscent of a teenage rebel, though, so i hoped.
are you alright?
[ they're both gonna be real surprised when they realize they aren't the sister/elf they're looking for. ]
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But stranger things have happened.
[ They're figure it out eventually. ]
As alright as you can be when you've been kidnapped.
But our captors at least throw a decent party.
Are you alright?