funnyhearts | INAUGURAL TEST DRIVE MEME

Entry tags:

INAUGURAL TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME: WELCOME TO HAPPY HEARTS

You wake up in a padded box. It rocks, gently, as though suspended in mid-air. You begin to stir, confusion or distress pushing you to try to sit up — and then the air begins to smell sweet, and you fall back asleep.

You wake up in a padded box. For a moment, you are beatifically calm. You don't know how you got here, or why, but that isn't really all that important. You don't need to know where you are. You're just... here. And here is a wonderful place to be.

But there is a niggling suspicion growing in the back of your mind. A suspicion that here is not somewhere you wanted to be. That it is not where you're supposed to be. You remember... chasing a white rabbit (or was it a person)? A mirror? Bright light, and green ivy crawling over your skin... Before you can worry too much, the box jolts, and then settles, and after a long moment the walls fall from around you to reveal —

A hotel lobby?

"Welcome to the Happy Hearts Hotel and Casino," says an attendant behind a desk. "We're so pleased you could join us for our grand opening gala. We have your room keys and Empathies here, please make an orderly line and we'll hand them out once we've confirmed identities. After that, feel free to explore the hotel! We highly recommend starting with the casino. Everyone's a winner here in Happy Hearts!"

Is this normal? It doesn't feel normal. And hey — you could swear you had shoes before!

I. THE CASINO FLOOR

As you pass through the entrance to the casino floor, an attendant passes you a small bag of chips. The casino is loud and bright and filled with games of every kind — you want to play poker? They've got a table for that. Sabacc? There's a table for that, too. Slots, pachinko, and bingo are also available. The attendant in the lobby wasn't lying, either — everyone who plays wins. Everyone, every time.

Servers wander the floor with trays of shotglasses full of multi-coloured liquids, offering them to every oyster "Compliments of Her Royal Highness." If you're expecting alcohol, though, you'll be surprised — these drinks are teas made of the distilled emotions of every oyster in the hotel. Each colour tea corresponds to a different emotion, and as soon as you take a sip, you feel overcome with that emotion.

JOY — the distilled essence of happiness, this tea makes even the most rough and tumble of oysters giddy with happiness — for a moment. The effect fades into a sense of general contentment after a few seconds, and that itself fades away slowly over the course of twenty minutes.
ANGER — this tea, anger in liquid form, can make the most even-tempered of oysters ready to absolutely blow a gasket. For twenty minutes, anyone who drinks this tea will find themselves much more easily annoyed, frustrated, and all around irritable and snappy.
SADNESS — distilled sadness is a potent tea, capable of turning a stoic, stalwart oyster into a blubbering mess in moments. Events that may have previously only been a minor disappointment become the end of the world, every repressed unhappiness comes to the fore, and for twenty minutes, any oyster who drank a sadness tea can hardly keep themselves together.

II. MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME

If gambling isn't to your interest, there are many other areas of the hotel to explore! For the moment, only The Pool Of Tears and the Pig & Pepper buffet are available for oysters to peruse, but the staff will assure anyone who asks that the other facilities will be open by the next day. Unfortunately, that means no one can buy any swimsuits from This Elegant Thimble, but the staff aren't going to kick anyone out of the pool for jumping in in their clothes! The Pig & Pepper serves lunch foods from across all different cultures, offering something for everyone, and some things you've never even heard of.

Maybe you just want to be alone — well, that's what you have your room key for! Oysters room on the second and third floors of the hotel, one to a room. You were assured your room would be exactly what you'd always wished for — and for some, that's right! It's exactly as you would have decorated it yourself. But for others, their rooms are totally wrong. A grizzled cowboy can't have a pink room! Hotel staff are firm, though: every room is exactly as its owner wants it to be. Search your feelings, oyster. You know it to be true.

III. YOU'VE BEEN NAUGHTY

Curiosity is not, on its own, a trait the staff want to discourage. Oysters are free to search for ways out of the hotel, but they won't find anything — there are no doors anywhere in the lobby or the casino, the windows are impenetrable, the walls don't crumble no matter how hard anyone hits them. The elevator between floors has no service hatch, and there are no stairs to take. The hotel is, at least so far as anyone can tell, a completely closed system.

Now, in light of this, Happy Hearts knows some oysters can be a little... reactionary. Especially when cornered, especially the ones with powers or abilities beyond the average human. With this in mind, any oyster found to be destructive or combative won't be punished. Not yet. They will, however, be quickly incapacitated by hotel staff, drugged to incoherence, and brought discretely to a hidden back room. No one notices these oysters disappearing, nor the doors they must have been dragged through.

In this room, troublesome oysters sit, paralyzed, across from a woman in red. She smiles, and offers candy from a bowl on her desk, and laughs to herself when she remembers the oysters can't take one.

You're new, she says, kindly, so it's understandable that you're having trouble adjusting to the hotel. We promise to do all we can to make your stay here as fulfilling as possible, so you have nothing to worry about. Your experience is our top priority.

She plucks a candy disk from her bowl, and unwraps it slowly.

But you must know: if you endanger our other guests again like you have today, there will be punishments. We pride ourselves on the emotional experience we offer our oysters, and we can't let anything get in the way of that. For everyone's safety and happiness, you understand.

She pops the candy in her mouth, sucks for a moment, and smiles broadly.

That's all.

The oyster is brought, still paralyzed and incoherent, back to the hotel. No one notices them return. The paths taken through the hotel to bring them to the woman in red fade from their mind as soon as they arrive back on the hotel floor. They're left in the lobby to sit and think until the paralysis wears off.

And then they can go back to having fun in the casino!

IV. HEY! LISTEN!

At the end of the day, every oyster's Empathy device buzzes, pings, and lights up — there's a message waiting for them!

A woman with red hair and a teal dress, sat on a throne with her hands held delicately in her lap and her legs crossed daintily at the ankle, looks into the camera, smiling.

"Hello, my dear oysters! We're so pleased you could join us. I am Victoria Hart, the humble Queen of this realm, and I wanted to personally welcome you to the Happy Hearts hotel, and thank you for your gifts. We will not squander them, dears, as we will not allow your stay with us to be anything less than perfect. If you need anything at all, I'm sure hotel staff will be happy to provide, and I will be keeping an eye on all of you, to ensure your experience remains a positive one.

Welcome, darlings. This is the beginning of something wonderful."

The message saves to each oyster's Empathy, and an app pops up on the screen: the community bulletin board. The queen doesn't respond to any messages sent to her, but the other oysters might. It's worth a shot, right?

Welcome to the first TDM of Happy Hearts, a new panfandom roleplaying game here on DW! If you have any questions, please direct them to the first comment on this page. Happy playing, oysters!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Probably deciding to drink it. [Spirit has been watching the stranger to his left curiously for the last quarter hour, surprised to find another set of displeased eyes watching the crowd. Similarly uninterested in gambling without risk, he's been perched at the bar for at least an hour now.]

You, uh--you have noticed what those things are doing to people, right? [He shrugs.] I mean, suit yourself. Not like alcohol is really any different.

[The redhead tilts his head slightly, shrugging. If Liam looks closely, he might notice the lack of pupils in the blue eyes watching him.]

Think you ought to drink to your health though.

Edited (Html :|) 2019-02-27 04:42 (UTC)

[That's fair. Liam isn't blind, though, and resents the implication that he somehow hasn't seen what's right in front of him:]

Yeah, I've noticed. That's why I'm curious.

[There are quite a few things to be curious about, here. This gentleman's eyes, for one. Maybe, someday soon, he'll learn.]

And it's not like it's going to kill me. At least, I don't think it will. If it does, avenge me, stranger.

[He'd be serious if it was anyone he knew. Then again, if it was anyone he knew, he definitely wouldn't be doing this in the first place.]

[Wow rude, he's expressing concern.]

Spirit. You can't ask a stranger to avenge you, at least ask their name. And if I'm considering any avenging, I'll need yours. You know, for dramatic effect.

[It takes him about five seconds to realize what that sounds like, and he hastily adds:] Please don't die, though. I'm tired of avenging people. Gets to be a little too much of a full-time gig.

[Heh, he likes this guy. Here's someone who knew the drill.]

Spirit, huh? Liam.

[He'll extend his free hand for a handshake, and quip as he reaches over to him:]

I'll do my best. Poisoning seems like a lame way to go out.

Besides, sounds like I'd miss a great story.

Definitely a lame way to go. At least try for meaningful combat or something. Or old age.

[He shakes the hand offered to him, raising a brow. Let it not be said he can't encourage bad behavior, if given the opportunity.] Considering what that stuff does to people, I think I'd be the one missing out on a story.

You gonna drink that, or are you too shy to go it alone? [Spirit no.]

[Combat, now there's a way to die. Old age less so, but you couldn't have everything you wanted in life.]

Hey, I'd never turn down drinks with a gentleman, but...

[Yeah, he's drawn this out quite a bit. Liam knocks his drink back, recoiling at the taste - not because it's unpleasant, but because watching people drink it hadn't given much indication as to the kind of beverage it really was.]

It's just tea.

[Famous last words, those.]

[The immediate, crushing wave of grief that hits him is enough to knock the breath from his lungs, surprising Liam so much that he fumbles with the glass in his hands - it falls sideways onto the counter, not breaking, but rolling around in a circle. The sight is suddenly obscured from his view as Liam's eyes brim with tears. The empty, cavernous space where his heart might once have been instantly feels heavy and tight. It's difficult to breathe, and part of him yearns for death. So this was guilt. This was the weight of genocide.

He laughs, tears streaming down his face, in a way that only someone practiced in repressing their emotions can do. It had been decades, now, since he'd truly wept, his empathy for his fellow man in short supply, and he holds himself together long enough to say:]

Ha ha ha ha! Oh, wow!

This is terrible! I hate this!

Edited 2019-02-27 06:24 (UTC)

[Spirit is in the process of catching the rolling glass when the exclamation abruptly snaps him from his task. He should be entirely not startled by this reaction, considering he's seen plenty of people knock back a cup of tea like this and find themselves blubbering nonsense, but he's surprised anyway.

Righting the cup, he fumbled with his free hand in his jacket pocket until he finds a handkerchief. It may or may not have seen use as a bandage in the past, but that's probably irrelevant. Spirit thrusts the fabric towards Liam's hand, very obviously uncomfortable. Empathetic to a fault, he's not happy to see someone so distraught.]

Yeah, usually is--induced by a strange drink or not. [The initial shock past and his heart no longer racing, he's able to place the handkerchief directly into Liam's hand so he doesn't need to search for it.] Getting it out's good for you, though.

[With a tone finally more serious than joking, Spirit drops his voice when he adds:] That's probably what they're giving these out for.

Edited (Omg words though) 2019-02-27 13:59 (UTC)

Thanks. Gods, why did I do this..?

[Liam accepts the handkerchief hastily, covering his eyes as though staving off a migraine. He knew drinking the shot presented a real risk to his dignity, but somehow expected to be unaffected. Did this mean he wasn't a psychopath, after all, as Sarah had said? Or was this the exception that proved the rule that he had never been capable of feeling this way?

By now, the veneer of feigned confidence has been washed away, and he's gritting his teeth between words. In spite of his complaints, he knew well why he wanted to drink. Was this good for him, after all?]

Ghhh. So they say. How often -- [A shuddering breath-] -- do you figure people cry like this, Spirit?

Probably the same reason my first meister did stupid stuff like this. [Oh--there is a visible blood stain on that handkerchief that he hadn't noticed. At least it's been washed since.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His ex-wife, his daughter, his ex-meister and even Death himself all tended to remind him that he was far too emotional. An inability to "have a good cry" has never been a problem Spirit faced, though it's often more for show than for real emotional release. He scratches his head, visibly uncertain.]

I don't know. [A little quieter, however, he's mumbling:] If you're really feeling it, probably not so often. We do lots of stuff for show, you know. As a species.

[Damn. Of all the things to say, he had to hit right where it hurts. Was that what this was? Making a show of being upset?]

Hah. You've got a point...

[And no, Liam hasn't noticed the blood stain, yet - handkerchief still pressed to his eyes like a blindfold.]

Your... "meister," you said? Was whatever he did for show, too, then?

Edited 2019-03-01 03:44 (UTC)

Yeah, meister. [Sorry, Liam. While he did misconstrue his point, it does stand. Lots of times it's easier to pretend to feel than to actually do so--that was more the point he's getting at.]

Stein did stuff to see what would happen. See if he could. He is the exact opposite of someone doing something for show.

[He chuckles, more to himself than anything.] I would be the one guilty of doing something for show. Not him.

[He tries to put a smile in his voice, but not even fake joy can be coaxed out. Instead, his self-deprecating humour comes out like a soft confession:]

Well, that makes two of us...

[As for this person named Stein, that seems like an interesting thread to chase, but the conversation has moved on. Eager to get the focus away from his own quiet meltdown, Liam lowers the handkerchief from his eyes and tries to meet Spirit's, getting his first good look at him through intermittent tears. It's actually kind of decent of him to stick around and make sure this whole thing didn't get out of hand.]

I'd never have pegged you for the insincere type.

[But he's been wrong before.]

[If Liam had been watching, he would have caught the sudden tension in the other man's shoulders at mention of being like Stein in his curiosity. Thankfully, Spirit finds himself accused of insincerity and that's enough to get him off that train of thought.]

Hey, I didn't say it was insincere. [Spirit isn't looking Liam's way, offering what little privacy he can. He's got his elbows resting on the bar, chin in his hand as he waves his free hand vaguely in Liam's direction.]

I said sometimes it was for show. Humans are social creatures. Emotional displays can be just as much for the person seeing them as they are for the one making them. [He folds his hands on the bar. It's equally as good for distracting others, he finds himself thinking rather solemnly, though he says nothing.]

[Well there's an interesting reaction... Liam files that away for later. For now, Spirit seems like a good enough person, giving him his privacy. Liam should at least respect his.]

If only that keen empathy of ours extended beyond our own species.

[He can't help but be bitter, but it isn't directed towards Spirit. He's not exactly sure who it is directed to, but whatever spell had overtaken him makes him regret saying it immediately, and he holds his breath to suppress a sob. Glass houses and stones, Liam! Who lived aboard your ship? Who did you call your friends? How many languages did you learn in your pursuit for freedom? All human. Only human.

He breathes out slowly, trying to keep his voice even.]

-Sorry. Bad habit of mine. That had nothing to do with you...

Speak for yourself. You haven't noticed yet? I pegged you for the observant type.

[Spirit tips his head slightly to the side, allowing himself a glance at the relative stranger. His face is focused sharply on Liam, only highlighting the pupilless eyes once again.] I'm not human.

[He waves a hand dismissively.] Not by my world's standards, anyway.

[Liam meets Spirit's gaze for a moment before going back to daubing his eyes with the handkerchief (hey, was there a bloodstain on this thing?). So he got his answer, in the end. And what an answer it was. If only he were still in a good enough mood to appreciate it...]

So that's what that's about.

[He's glad to know; the negativity spiral in his head puts him in great need of a distraction. Besides, it's easier to cry to someone who isn't human about his problems, if it came to that.]

It takes a lot more than that to be considered non-human, where I'm from. But hey; can't say I'm disappointed. What are you, then, since you're sharing?

Just takes a couple of recessive genetic traits and like that, [A snap, sharp in his otherwise dull movement.] you're inhuman.

I'm a Weapon. A tool to be used as a means to an end, you see. [He was now wishing for alcohol, not just mystery mood tea, to dull his feelings. Liam's tone earlier had only reminded him of the way some turned when they realized what he was, the way some never trusted him, the threat of a tool used and discarded when no longer useful. It's bringing out the worst in his memory, and he would rather not.]

My soul isn't considered human, either.

[Here Liam thought he might be some kind of shapeshifting alien taking on a human guise, or perhaps a half-breed. But that answer is preposterious to him, and he screws up his face, his tears stalling as he considers the implications. No matter how generous he is with that statement, it leads him to the same conclusion:]

Sounds like bullshit to me.

[He doesn't mean to imply that Spirit isn't being truthful, or that his species isn't real, and he quickly explains:]

No one is a tool to be used, no matter what they are. And if your society believes that, they're fucked.

[Liam's suspicion of a half-bred with a human guise is surprisingly more accurate than he knows, the heritage of all Weapons in consideration.

To illustrate his point, however, the hand closest to Liam is momentarily obscured by a flash of blue light--to be replaced with a curved, sharp blade. He has always excelled at form manipulation.]

Settle down. I meant that literally, Liam.

[Liam has seen some weird shit, but this is still a surprise. He masks his shock (which is easy, considering he is still crying) and stares coldly back at Spirit.]

And? That changes nothing. You're a sentient being, Spirit.

[With a flash, the blade vanishes once again. Sentience, sure. Sometimes, he thinks he'd rather not be so aware. Scratching his head, he glances away uncomfortably.]

It's not the best system, I'll admit.

[He glances down the bar with a frown.] Pity they don't serve alcohol. I could use a drink.

[Liam sighs quietly in relief.]

Good! I'm glad you see that much.

[Sniff! Liam dries his eyes. He's glad he didn't have to argue, because it probably would have made him cry harder. People who had been convinced they were subhuman were the most unfortunate of all.]

There's another bar in this hotel that does, you know. Once this- [He gestures to his face] -dies down, I'll take you, if you want.

[Maybe it's a date. Maybe it's Liam invested in making sure Spirit doesn't think anything else that's incredibly stupid.]

[He sighs, quiet.] You're pretty passionate about the cause of a guy you just met. It isn't all bad. Weapons...we're built to want the relationship with a meister. To want to serve them.

You're going to hate this, I know it--a weapon must always be prepared to die for their meister. [That's said with the tone of a line oft repeated. Spirit has clearly said it before, and will say it again.]

[A server walks by with the coloured drinks, and he chuckles weakly.] I'd be glad to. I'll take anything--even one of those.

[Oh for fuck's sake, here we go, after all. Spirit's right, Liam hates it. Fidgeting with frustration, he brushes his eyes with his sleeve, now, not bothering to appear collected and dignified.]

Fuck that. Don't ever let me catch you saying that again.

[It's easier to hold back tears when your hate over the people you're crying over has been reignited. But, like he anticipated, now he wants to cry for a different reason. He gestures to the waiter.]

I should flag him over and make you drink the red stuff. Then you'll really get it. But you should be able to get it without drugs. [Or whatever this tea was.] Who made you believe that? Humans?

Edited 2019-03-10 03:36 (UTC)

Yoooooo

(･ω･)b

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject