funnyhearts | INAUGURAL TEST DRIVE MEME

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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

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)

I've done good. Most of us don't make it to our thirties. The meisters usually don't, either. I'm old for this job.

[He's too busy keeping his expression neutral to notice Liam flag the waiter.] Nobody made me believe it. It just is.

Now relax, will you? I'm not upset about it. [Not usually. Not when he avoids thinking of his family, of the countless scars, the betrayed trust and the constant danger. This was his world. His home. In many ways, while there were the occasional flashes of anger, Spirit genuinely didn't know better.] You don't need to be, either.

[So they were forced into fatal situations against their will? That makes Liam sick to his stomach. His expression contorts in a miserable fury.]

Don't tell me to relax! You're a slave! Why don't you get it?

[He means to get in Spirit's space, to knock that neutral expression right off his face one way or another, but doubles over as a sob catches him off guard. He clutches a fistful of his own hair.]

I'm so fucking sick of wasting my breath on this, again and again...

[The waiter decides that they seem to be in the middle of something, so he deposits a variety of teas nearby, in case they need them, before fleeing. Liam's already forgotten about it.]

Edited 2019-03-10 04:06 (UTC)

Hey. [There's a sternness to his tone. A hint of anger.] I'm not a slave, Liam, and I don't appreciate being called one. I had a choice, to return home or to do the job I did and I chose to continue that work. It's not always easy or fun--but it is work I'm proud of and that I'm good at. Don't deign to judge me because you think that it's something it isn't.

[A bit gentler, as if he realizes how harsh he'd come off:] I already know the dynamics come off weird. I already have to live my life in that world, with all of what that means. [His tone twists to something more...somber. Resigned.] Isn't that enough?

[His explanation still raises his hackles - a slave who claimed to stay of their own free will was never truly acting on their own desires - but Spirit's tone calms Liam down a little. He collects himself, straightening. In at least one way, Spirit is right - there's really no sense in chewing out a victim.

Doesn't stop Spirit from being extremely wrong, though.]

...If I were you, I'd be rioting in the streets. I don't know why you'd buy into all that, but if you want me to leave it alone, I'll leave it alone.

[The tears are starting to taper off, now the tea having run its course, but Liam still feels like shit. Now noticing the teas that the waiter left, he picks up the red one, fiddling with it. He has no interest in drinking it - he's pissed off on a near constant basis - but it could still be useful.]

But seeing things from my perspective might help you understand where I'm coming from.

[Spirit takes the shotglass of tea from Liam, their fingers brushing briefly against each other as he did so. He studies the red tea briefly, the liquid a similar color to his hair, before exhaling a sigh.]

What happened to wanting me to get it without drugs?

[He doesn't offer Liam much of a chance to answer--Spirit takes the tea and downs it like a shot, swallowing the drink in one swallow. His nose wrinkles slightly.] It's bitter.

There, I drank your-- [The wave of fury hits him with overwhelming force, both with the justified anger of a man who has met with incredible injustice and with an inexplicable frustration he can't pinpoint. A man usually well in tune with his emotions, he's not sure what to do with so much unadulterated rage.

The anger is reminiscent of a mind lost to madness, and its unnerving in its familiarity. When he turns back to Liam, it's with a hint of fear and not fury.]

You think I'd have learned from you. [His words are almost a hiss through gritted teeth, finally slamming the small glass back onto the counter.]

I'm not even angry about home, I'm angry I tried this.

Edited 2019-03-11 23:59 (UTC)

[Liam is still a little misty-eyed, but he's coming down. He manages a satisfied smile when the glass leaves his hand - for more than one reason.]

Well, drug-free wasn't working. Looks like this was a wash too, though. Damn, you were supposed to get mad about slavery with me! Come on, man.

[He shrugs it off. Oopsie doopsie!]

[See: One irritable and currently drugged weapon who is most definitely not shrugging it off. The knuckles gripping the bar top are blanched white, the fingertips of his free hand tapping nervously along the counter. Along with anger Spirit is agitated, an amount of restlessness he's not so familiar with.]

That's all you have to say! [If Liam wasn't so charming, he might have gotten swung at. After all, it wasn't uncommon for weapons in the Academy to solve disputes through a bit of violence.] I should be mad at myself for even thinking to taste this crap.

And just so it's been said, I am mad at slavery and I don't think it's any good and I didn't need to drink this stupid fucking tea to reach that conclusion! [Exasperated, Spirit slips off the stool like a child with no outlet for their frustration, twisting his fingers in his hair. If the room weren't so crowded, he'd certainly be pacing.]

[Liam claps his hands together once in exclaimation, gesturing back at Spirit, well aware he is playing with fire.]

There it is! Welcome to my head.

[Being a revolutionary ran on two things: anger, and entertainment. Liam would say he has both of those in fair supply right now.]

Just needed to make sure you had your head screwed on straight. Now I can say for sure that I like you, Spirit.

[This is not helping at all, Liam, and would be the definition of playing with fire. In direct opposition to the ideal that Spirit had his head screwed on straight, when he turns back to face the no-longer-stranger at the bar it's with a surprisingly threatening expression. There isn't one hint of the genial man that had been present earlier.]

[Further, his tone is several kinds of threatening--none of which are even hinting at being joking.] My title isn't Deathscythe for fun, Liam.

[Seems like it was time to get serious. Liam's playful smile drops a bit, replaced with an admiring one. Deathscythe... fascinating. He growls a low hum of approval.]

Is that so...

[Even at a magical casino, Liam can't help but think of the ways to start an uprising:]

Unlike you, I'm only human, and I'm unarmed. That makes me easier to kill than usual. [It's not as though Liam intended to stand there and die, but that's not his point:] But wouldn't it be a waste of your potential?

Anger is useful when directed to the right place. We may need some of your power eventually, my friend.

[He doesn't know what they'll do to an oyster who murders another, but he can't imagine it's anything good. More surveillance than usual, at least, and who wanted that?]

INAUGURAL TEST DRIVE MEME

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cw: references to violence etc

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