INAUGURAL TEST DRIVE MEME

[happyheartsstaff]

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!

Comments

steve rogers | mcu | ota

[ex_serum683]

ii. make yourself at home

❰ steve slips the key card out of the door and twists the handle, swinging the door open to look in on what is apparently supposed to be his room —

and immediately shuts the door again with a muttered swear.

exactly as he would have chosen, jesus, that's hardly fair. he was expecting something like the apartment in dc, an uneasy medium between modern and old-fashioned. modern furnishings, maybe, with a record player in the corner to point to his age. this is something straight out of his past — his and bucky's past, and yeah, that will never stop being terrible to think about. he can't stay here, wherever the hell here is, he needs to go back and start figuring out how to begin a covert manhunt for a man the entire goddamn intelligence community couldn't even confirm the existence of for fifty years.

fuck.

steve stands in front of his door, staring at it like it's wounded him personally, for long minutes. long enough someone might notice and become concerned. ❱

iv. hey! listen!

un: srogers

This is Captain Steve Rogers. If the name Avengers means anything to you, get in touch.

Has anyone gathered any intel on this place? Do we know what or who we're dealing with?

v. wildcard

❰ ooc: giving this guy a shot too. canon point is post-winter soldier! if you'd like to plot anything or ask any questions, feel free to pm me at this journal or send a private plurk to salvatrice ❱

make yourself at home

[rzhavyy]

Hey pal, door givin' you trouble?

[Steve might recognize the voice that comes from a friendly face, that thick Brooklyn accent. Warm blue, unwounded eyes look him over, Bucky dressed in a clean-pressed uniform, the cap held loosely in his hands even as his shoes seem to have gone missing, but he's taking it in stride. He can't deny that he'd silently wished that night at the Stark Expo would last forever. Scared of shipping out, even if that's not something he'd ever allow to show, not to his siblings, and certainly not to Steve.

He doesn't recognize him; not yet, not from the side like this. He'd been having fun in the casino, flirting here and there, but the games lost appeal quickly when there was no skill to them, no risk. Bucky had always been good at poker, and a bit of a cheat, even if he'd deny it to his last breath, but there was no appeal when the cards always came up in your favor no matter what you did. He couldn't lose even when he was tryin' and where was the fun in that?

So he'd gone upstairs to check if the accommodations were as swanky as he'd been promised when he'd come across this man regarding his door like it was either some kinda puzzle, or a personal affront. He was thinking that maybe the guy was having trouble with the key; mixed up his room number or something, and he's in a good enough mood that offering to help hardly seem like trouble.]

Sure you got the right number?

[ex_serum683]

❰ steve would recognize that voice if he was deaf. he stiffens at the sound of it, unable to bring himself to look over to the source for a long moment, trying to tell himself it's not who he thinks so when he finally does look over he isn't disappointed. that used to happen sometimes, back when he was fresh out of the ice — he'd hear bucky, peggy, the commandos, random neighbours from brooklyn all around him in crowded places. a voice would be just the right timbre to take his knees out from under him, and then he'd look around wildly only to realize what he was doing. it was worse in manhattan, just familiar enough to confuse his brain even more. there was a reason he moved to dc, and work wasn't it. not all of it, anyway.

after a long, awkward moment, he takes a deep breath and looks up, ready to see not-bucky.

except that's not what he sees. ❱

Jesus, ❰ steve hisses to himself, twisting away from bucky like he's been hit. jesus christ that was bucky. almost as soon as steve's moved away he's coming back around again, staring at bucky like a drowning man stares at water.

he hasn't even noticed the uniform or his cover, yet. ❱

Bucky?

[rzhavyy]

[It takes him a moment.

Y'know, the last time he'd seen Steve, he'd been someone that woulda fallen over in a stiff breeze, determined to try and enlist one more time, stubborn punk that he was. So even with that face, there's that part of his brain that says no, this can't be Steve. It's some trick of the light, those eyes, maybe-- But then the guy talks, says Bucky's name, and it's all so familiar that Steve isn't the only one that backs up for a moment. The pause of a couple breaths as Bucky tries to get his bearings, to wrap his head around whatever the Hell's going on here.]

Steve? That really you?

[A beat, looking into his face with an earnest sort of intensity, unable to help seeing his best-friend, even if he has been turned into a six-foot adonis.]

Why're you--

[He trails off, but the implication there isn't hard to parse out. Steve looks more like Charles Atlas than the young man he remembers, and while it's not a bad thing- Bucky'd care for Steve no matter what size he was packaged in- it is strange. There's a smile that bloom there on his face, bright and sunny and it's only a moment before he's stepping in, closing the distance between them and slinging an arm around Steve's shoulders, even if he has to lean up a bit to do it. A slight nudge of his elbow into his ribs, a teasing lilt to his words.

It's Steve, they're together, and the war is someplace far away, and that's good enough for him, he supposes. Hopefully will give him a chance to talk him out of doing anything too stupid when they get back. Or maybe he already has, though Bucky's trying not to think on that point too hard.]

Guess they really do put somethin' in the tea here, hunh?

[ex_serum683]

❰ it feels like his heart cracks in two, when bucky says his name — or maybe it comes together again, and the pain that lances through his chest is the pain of being whole again when he's spent the past two years wandering around in a broken fog.

or maybe that's all overdramatic bullshit and he needs to get a goddamn grip.

bucky takes steve's moments of emotional silence to come in close and throw an arm around his shoulder, and steve can't help but melt into the affection like butter. how long's it been since he had anyone who'd touch him like this? who he'd want to touch him like this? ❱

Yeah, guess they do, ❰ is all he can bring himself to say, staring down at bucky. he's hardly even paying attention to what either of them are saying, too caught up in bucky being bucky to care about anything else. bucky remembered him. bucky could see him, even in this overlarge body, with no context for how or why the change happened, bucky still saw him. steve could fucking cry. ❱

You know me, Buck? ❰ he can't help asking, has to know that this is real — he wraps an arm around bucky's waist and gives him a little shake, testing the mass of him. feels real. ❱ You know me?

[rzhavyy]

[Steve leans into the contact, and Bucky fairly unceremoniously tugs him in a little, so the height difference is less apparent. But for the moment he just enjoys the contact. He'd thought he'd made his peace with Steve, with the fact of leaving him behind to get into God-knows-what kind of trouble without him. But having him back, even if he's the wrong size, even if it's only been hours since he saw him last -- he still just wants to hold on to him for a while.

He laughs at Steve's easy reply, and that makes it easy enough to not pry for the details, at least for now. His body might be wrong, but he knew those blue eyes, the lines of his face, even with a slightly stronger jaw, his features more chiseled. He knew the heart that resided in that frame, and that was still there.

At the question, his own blues slide sideways, looking over at him with a sort of incredulity, and his arm around his shoulders tightens a little in a faint not-quite reprimand. He knows there's somethin' else going on here, somethin' that seems like it's straight outta one of those Flash Gordon comics, or the Science Fiction novels he liked.

There's a part of him that's angry about it, if he's honest. Not at Steve, but at the world. That it was so blind and so full of nonsense about what kinda people had worth that Steve felt like he had to do this, that he felt like he had to put himself into a different body just for people to see how good he was. It's not a new kind of anger, of course, and Bucky just shakes his head.]

What the Hell kinda question is that? Of course I know you. Steve Rogers, most stubborn punk in Brooklyn, my best-friend, and a helluva artist.

[Punk is a term of endearment, of course. Just like it always has been, ever since the beginning, back when they were kids. If he was shorter, he might have messed his hair up. But he settles for just shaking his head in disbelief with a roll of his eyes that's easier than actually digging into what's going on here, why he's asking. Those are questions he wont let stew for too long, but with how everything's strange around them, he just wants to hold onto this one familiar thing. Steve Rogers; artist, friend and general pain in his ass.]

C'mon, I've known you most of my life, Stevie.

[ex_serum683]

❰ god, it's been so long since he heard that laugh. to hear it again punches the wind out of steve, leaves this terrible lightness in his guts. he feels like he's going to fall apart, same as he did when bucky fell — long, blubbering weeping that ends with him feeling exactly as he did before he started, because his throat never gets sore anymore and he hasn't had a headache in five years, give or take.

steve lets out a shuddering breath and turns in to bucky, wrapping his other arm around bucky's waist and pulling him into a tight hug. they've never been shy about physical affection, they hug just fine when it's needful, but even so he doesn't think it's ever been... like this. so tight he feels like bucky might burst and yet he can't bring himself to step back even so. they never even hugged like this when one of them almost died.

almost feels like the crucial qualifier, here. ❱

It's so damn good to see you, Bucky.

❰ good to hear all that come out of his mouth — after the winter soldier nearly beat steve half to death when steve tried to convince him of it himself, it's so damn good to hear bucky say it all. steve had been so sure he'd never get the numb horror of who the hell is bucky out of his head.

but that does mean they should figure out what's happened here. reluctantly, very reluctantly, steve steps back, though one hand migrates from bucky's waist to his shoulder and stays there, unwilling to drop. ❱

What year is it for you, '43? Have you shipped out yet?

[rzhavyy]

[Steve pulls him into a hug and Bucky reciprocates without even thinking about it. He'd thought that might be the last time he saw him before he shipped out, so he'd hugged Steve at the recruitment station at the Stark Expo, and even if that was hours ago, it still feels like something they both need. Steve's changed, the world they're in isn't theirs, but they're both here and that's something. So he hugs him, pulls him in a little tighter, a little closer. He can feel Steve's desperation in how he holds onto him, and even if he doesn't understand the how or the why, he's never been shy about indulging it. They were best friends. Bucky had spent nights by his side, changing cold water compresses on his forehead when he was sick, been there for each other through everything.

What was this? Just one more thing. Maybe he didn't know the shape of it, but he was absolutely sure that it was nothin' they couldn't figure out together.

There's a huff of breath at the words, a wry smile as he claps a hand against Steve's back, holding onto him. He feels different, strange in the way that it's Steve's shoulders that are bigger than his own now. And it makes something strange twist in his chest. The realization that Steve doesn't need him to protect him anymore, and he's not jealous- if anything he's mostly glad that the world can see the kid the way that he always has- but there's still a strange feeling, an almost-fear of losing something. And maybe that's why he holds on so tight.]

Yeah, I know. Who else is gonna teach you how to dance with the dames?

[Teasing Steve is easy, of course, makes this feel a little easier, somehow, like there's room to breathe. Leaning into that familiarity, like he can hold onto that idea that nothing's changed between them, no matter how clear it seems that things are different. Steve steps back, and Bucky lets him, though his hand comes up to rest against his arm, maintaining that connection, that tactile touch that's like some sort of lifeline for the things they can't, or don't need to say in words.]

Shipping out for London first thing in the morning. I had a nice night with these two gals, cause my best-friend ditched me.

[Playful, with a lift of an eyebrow. Then he blinks, like he's considering something, like the particular way that question is odd suddenly registers. But rather than upset, Bucky seems almost excited, bright-eyed and a little bit breathless. It's not possible, is it?]

Are you tellin' me this is some kind of time-travel?

[ex_serum683]

❰ jesus, mary, and joseph, before he even shipped out. for a second steve is too stunned to really say anything — he'd guessed '43, but he hadn't expected to be right — and then bucky's eyes widen and brighten and aw, hell, he did always love those sci-fi pulps, didn't he?

steve had almost forgotten. ❱

I don't know that it's time-travel, ❰ steve says, cautious, even as he can't help smiling. ❱ But I don't look like I did the day before you shipped out, do I?

❰ bucky had been so angry the first time through this conversation — furious that steve would make himself a human science experiment and join the army all because he couldn't stand to be stuck at him. he hadn't said as much, but steve could tell bucky kind of felt like it was ungrateful of him — steve got to stay home, safe, and he could have gotten himself killed just trying to leave. maybe now, removed from all of it — maybe bucky will be as excited as steve was, when he came out of the rebirth chamber. maybe he'll think it's as amazing as steve did.

he reaches for his door again, keycard slapping uselessly at the handle, but he doesn't want to look away from bucky. ❱

Come into my room, we can talk about it. There's so much I gotta tell ya, Buck.

[rzhavyy]

[Steve smiles and that somehow makes it all that much easier, takes off a little bit of the concern, the worry that had seemed so heavy in his friend's eyes. And the way Steve says those words is careful, that he's not sure, and Bucky can only shake his head with a touch of a laugh at the question, taking the opportunity to look him over again, from broad shoulders to the short hair and blue eyes.

It's impossible, and yet he's standing before him, and there's that curl of his mouth, almost a smirk as he meets his eyes. He rocks on his heels a little, playfully obstinate, something in the set of his jaw.]

In the ways that matter. But I'm guessin' you've been through more than just the recruitment station.

[It's mad, really. The fact of this, staring him in the face. And he reaches up, curling fingers against the back of Steve's neck, and he can't help laughing as something dawns on him, shocking and wrong in the way that this upset so many of those truths of the universe that have been true throughout all of their lives. It was like the order of the universe turned on its head, one of those stories where someone ends up on the moon.] You're older than me.

[There's an awe to it, even as the words feel strange on his tongue, because it's one of those things that you never expect to change. He can guess at some of it, of course, even if he doesn't know the specifics. And just as Steve's inviting him into his room, his hand creeps up and he can't resist the urge to mess up his hair, elbow him lightly in the side in a faint kind of reprimand that's not pointed. Not the feelings Bucky would have if he'd seen war, seen torture and tragedy and not just his own fears about it, and when this place they are feels some strange kind of safe.]

Toldja not to do anything stupid until I got back. But c'mon. I wanna hear about it all. Punk.

[ex_serum683]

❰ the relief that courses through steve is so all-consuming that for a moment he doesn't even know what he's relieved of. it's just a sudden and intense lifting of a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying, a lightening of his shoulders that makes him stand a little straighter.

bucky still sees him. that's it, that's what he's feeling — for the first time in two years, he's known.

he laughs, and steve smiles. ❱

Yeah, I guess I am. 28, now.

❰ to bucky's 26. it's not so big a gap, but it feels like decades — like seventy years, maybe. like the difference between preparing for war and actually seeing it. bucky ruffles steve's hair and that finally gets steve to bat him away, edging out from under his hand with a breathless laugh. he gets the keycard into the lock, this time, and opens the door to his room, and doesn't even flinch this time — it hurts so much less to look at with bucky at his back.

the furnishings, at least, are about a thousand times fancier than anything they had in their tenement in brooklyn. if it weren't for the layout of the space, steve wouldn't even be able to recognize what they were trying to do. but here, after a fashion, is the apartment they shared after steve's mother passed. here is where the kitchen would have been, there is the wall with a window looking into the living space, there is the corner steve's bed would have been pushed into, there is bucky's. the kitchen's been turned into a sitting area, there's only one bed, everything is clean and modern and brightly lit, but it's impossible to miss what they were going for.

steve walks into the room and leaves the door open behind him for bucky to follow through, looking around at the space. ❱

Does it count if the stupid thing I did, I did before you even shipped out?

❰ the question is a bit distant, distracted as steve is by the way his memory of the space is trying to superimpose itself over the reality of it. ❱

iv.

[lonewanderer]

[ and cue Immediate Suspicion. ]

captain of what

[ex_serum683]

United States Army.

❰ and also all of america, buuuuut we're gonna leave that part out for a while. ❱

[lonewanderer]

[ HMMMM ]

what year?

or - have you heard of the enclave?

[ex_serum683]

2014, and no, can't say that I have.

❰ what the heck is an enclave ❱

[lonewanderer]

[ Bad, that's what ]

oh good. you wouldn't have, then.

i'm lex. not captain of anything. from 2277.

[ex_serum683]

❰ from when excuse me ❱

We have flying cars yet?

❰ THAT'S ALL HE'S GOT. ❱

[lonewanderer]

no. nuclear war kind of took all the cars out of commission 200 years ago.

but there are robots

[ex_serum683]

Oh, well as long as we have robots.

❰ this is a lot. ❱

[lonewanderer]

[ You're telling her. She's surrounded by things that aren't in ruins for the first time in... a while. ]

my point is.
the government fucked up. a lot. what remains of them is a bunch of assholes.

wasn't the fault of most of the people in the army, but it was a knee-jerk reaction to be suspicious when you said you were.

but you're from a few decades before the resource wars. so. you probably weren't or won't be involved in helping destroy the world.

[ it's the most awkward attempt at an apology ever ]

un: hattrick

[homefortea]

My guess is an evil queen. She probably enjoys.
Cards.
Chess pieces.
Beheading.
Painting her roses red.

[ex_serum683]

You have experience with situations like this?

[homefortea]

Doesn't everyone?

iv, un: vieenrose

[coquettish_trees]

A very well established and suspiciously generous monarch, it appears. With, perhaps, a fetish for collecting shoes that entirely eclipses my own.

iv

[blessmefather]

un: Murdock

Is this working? I don’t know how good the speech to text works on this device. Sorry if this is in nonsense.

Normally I would assume anyone claiming to be Captain America on a message board was a troll but I think our objective is the same either way.