TDM I

[thetonmods]

The Ton Test Drive Meme I

Welcome to the The Ton's first ever Test Drive Meme!

The game will officially open on the 1st of April (lol) and we will announce this via the game's Plurk account. Applications will open on this date - please do not submit an application before then as it will be ignored until the opening date.

Please note that the Test Drive Meme does not require an invite.

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Arrival

I. WELCOME

You don't remember when or where you fell asleep exactly.

Perhaps it's the tickling sensation of a low hanging tree branch brushing against your nose or the feel of the slightly damp grass underneath you that causes you to awaken but when you do you'll find yourself lying amongst a glade of wisteria trees. You're not alone - nymphs of the trees laugh and dance about you, clearly amused at the new arrival. Along with them, your new loyal servant is here on Pheme's bidding. How this servant looks is different to each arrival. Some are saddled with short, stout butlers, others are welcomed by towering, busty maids. Regardless of their appearance, they introduce themselves with a kindness and warmth that is simultaneously reassuring and strangely impossible to resist when they beckon you to follow them from the grove and out into the city of Andovale.

The closest structure within sight is the Palace and its grounds. It is here that the Lady Pheme resides and from here that she rules over the city, your servant explains to you. You have been selected and brought here personally by her. It is she who assigned the servant to guide you through the regency-inspired city that is your new home.

Eventually, they will bring you to your new residence within the outskirts of somewhere called the "Trade Quarter". You are now the resident of a room within one of the many imposing town houses which make up the Grand Crescent. Throughout your stay here the servant will be your own personal butler or maid. This is where all new arrivals will be living for the time being you are told. Your servant will also give you a crash course on life here and the concept of Thumos - the energy or life force that keeps Andovale and all life within it going - including you now that you are here. It's generated through acts of intimacy, whether that be physical or emotional.

Once you have been shown to your room, you are given two things: a network communication device and a letter. The letter reads as follows:

My dearest reader,

Welcome to Andovale.

The delights of our fair city are yours to explore.

I do hope that you make your stay here a most interesting one. I shall be frightfully disappointed if you do not - and we do not want that, do we?

You will hear from me again very soon.

Yours Truly,

Lady Pheme

You are free to wander about and explore the house and its surroundings as you please. It's certainly spacious enough. As well as your own quarters, each of the townhouses of the Grand Crescent have large communal areas, which includes the kitchens (although why you'd like to go there when your servant can fetch any delicacies you'd like for you!), a dining room, a parlour with its own small library, two drawing rooms (somewhere you can go to chill out basically - harp music anyone?) and a generously sized garden. Strangely, unlike most accurate regency townhouses, there do not appear to be any servant's quarters - perhaps these servants don't need to rest? Or they go somewhere else entirely for that.

Why not introduce yourself to your new housemates? Or enjoy some tea and cakes that have been prepared for you personally by your retainer, which they seem to keep insisting on bringing to you?

---

II. AN INVITATION

Your arrival coincides with the beginning of spring and with it the height of the ton's social season. What kind of social event can signify the start of this better than a grand ball?

Coincidentally you won't have long to enjoy your new home in peace and quiet. Wherever you are within the Grand Crescent your house's assigned butler or maid will track you down sometime during the day. They are not empty-handed and they carry a silver tray, upon which is an envelope with a wax seal bearing the letter "P". Inside the envelope is an invitation. An invitation from your benevolent ruler, Lady Pheme herself.

Each character will receive an invitation identical in wording to the one below:

MASKED BALL

YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME HERE


Is requested to attend the ball at THE PALACE, on 25th of March current, at 9 o'clock p. m.


Do not trouble yourself - masks will be provided upon your arrival.

Lady Pheme

You have already been told that an invitation to the Palace from the lady herself is the only way in. So if you want to find out anything about the tyrant lady then you better get yourself gussied up. Your servant can help you find something appropriate to wear - or not appropriate, the choice is entirely yours after all. The ball awaits.

Masked Ball

For the first time tonight, the gates of the Palace are open. Whether you're arriving on horseback, by carriage or on foot, you must travel through those gates and down a wide sweeping roadway, lined with immaculately trimmed hedges and roses bushes.

Stone steps and huge double doors greet you at the other end. Once you go through these doors, you will enter a grand entrance hall. You will see this room and the ballroom only. All other rooms are out of bounds and no amount of physical force or magic powers will get you to them.

In the short time that Andovale has been in existence, Lady Pheme has already built herself a bit of a reputation for being rather erratic when it comes to the Palace's interior. She seems to change it on a whim whenever she feels like it. She does so hate being bored after all. The colour scheme she fancies on this particular evening is black, white and silver. The many servants and attendants milling around are dressed all in white and are of course, wearing masks themselves. Every free surface is covered in grand flower arrangements, also in white.

Upon arrival, you are handed two very important items. The first is your dance card, the second is your mask. You will not be able to enter the Palace ballroom without both of these items.










The delight that is the dance card is key to every regency ball experience. Traditionally held by young women, at this ball everyone gets one. The dance card is used to record the names of those with whom you intend to dance each successive dance with at a formal ball such as this.

Got cold feet? Dancing not your thing? You might find that card being magically filled out for you. One second it's completely blank, the next you look down and find yourself with a list of delightful individuals with whom to show off your dance moves. (You have Pheme to thank for that - she's just looking out for you!)

Curiously, there is no sign of your generous hostess herself. Just a throne sitting empty at the top of the ballroom.

As for the masks, well... they're not quite what they seem too. It isn't as though you'll have any choice but to find that our for yourself. As previously mentioned, there's no entering the ballroom without one on. You might be able to persuade someone to swap masks with you or ask a member of the Palace stuff for another one - but they're all about as chaotic as each other.

Hey, at least the drinks are unlimited.

A typical regency ball usually ends around 5 in the morning so you might be here a while.

Note: The images below are just a guide, you can decide exactly what your mask looks like as long as it fits within the colour/animal category described.

Silver Mask

Simple and classic - unless you go for one of the more elaborately patterned ones.

The wearer of this mask will find themselves experiencing only the most pleasant of hallucinations. We'll leave the interpretation of that up to you.

You're also hungry. Really damn hungry.

Blue Mask

Masks of this hue will leave the wearer with an overwhelming sense of sadness. You're just plain bummed out.

Unless that is, you get yourself someone to dance with. In fact the only way to feel remotely normal or cheerful while you're wearing this mask is to dance the night away and you will feel compelled to do just that. Otherwise you're just going to be a giant sad sack all evening and nobody wants that.

Peacock Mask

Wow, so you like to make a statement, huh? Or maybe it was the only one within reach. Either way, nobody's going to fail to notice you in one of these.

Seriously. No, seriously, is it just you or is everyone staring at you? You know the mask is pretty garish in comparison to the others but this seems like an overreaction...

The truth is this mask makes you irresistible to others. So you have the personality of a shovel? Your problems are over, my chum. All of the ton will now be dazzled by your sparkling wit and the positively flawless way in which you conduct yourself. Everyone's laughing at your jokes, even when you didn't make one. Everyone wants to be the first name on your dance card. You might even find yourself with a couple of marriage proposals by the end of the night.

You lucky thing you.

Pink Mask

Two words: MEET CUTE.

Come on, it's everyone's favorite trope! You know that romcom hero or heroine who is delightfully and cutely clumsy? Always bumping into their future love interest? Well, this mask lets you become just that.

You know, after your third spilled drink of the night this could actually get really annoying.

Harlequin Mask

There is no such thing as privacy for those who end up with a harlequin mask. It may take you a while to realise (unless someone else takes pity enough to point it out to you) but this particular mask projects the wearer's innermost private thoughts onto the front of it for anyone else to read.

Let's hope you're not thinking anything too insulting. Otherwise, we might have a fight on our hands.

Cat Mask

This mask causes the wearer to start acting... well, like a cat.

Chasing shiny objects, randomly knocking glasses off the drinks table, rubbing yourself against somebody else's legs... all of that. You weirdo. What will it take to ward you off? A spray from a water bottle? A laser pointer? If only those had been invented...

Golden Mask

This mask will really amp up your Thumos production. When we say really, we mean really.

The slightest touch from another will suddenly feel like ecstasy to you. Even something as simple and bland as someone tapping you on the shoulder is liable to have you feeling weak at the knees.

Naturally this could get a little awkward if you've never even met the other person before. Oh well, at least they can't see your face properly.

Red Mask

Red is the colour of passion. That must be why you're passionately angry at that person. Specifically the first person you lay eyes on once you enter the ballroom. You might even say that they are your nemesis.

Does this person even know that they're your nemesis? Probably not. (Unless they just happen to also put on a red mask and lay their eyes on you at exactly the same moment!) It doesn't matter. Clearly they must be stopped.

Now no decent, upstanding member of the ton would condone actual violence of any kind. Particularly not at a high society soirée such as this. Your fighting must be sneaky, subtle - make them feel like they're simply not welcome here! Throw thinly veiled insults at their attire, literally throw one of the vol-au-vents at them when their back is turned, accidentlly spill your glass of lemonade in their lap... Do whatever it takes. Well, within reason.

How do you like them apples?

The bustling market of Andovale's Trade Quarter is known for having only the finest produce. This week there is a new stall that has never appeared before and it does not specialise in your run of the mill fruit and vegetables.

This particular stall is selling golden apples. In appearance they appear to be literally made of solid gold yet the beautiful woman minding the stall demonstrates that they are perfectly edible. In fact, they're downright delicious - you just can't stop yourself taking a bite. We would venture to say that they are probably the most delicious apples you have ever tasted.

They also come with side effects.

The legendary Golden Apples of the Garden of Hesperides were a wedding present to the goddess Hera from Gaia, the ancestral mother of all life. The apples promised immortality and anyone who ate them would never again experience hunger, thirst, suffering or illness... well, these apples are but a pale imitation of that. No, you won't become immortal but for exactly twenty-four hours after you've taken your first bite you will find that you don't need to eat, drink or rest. Your strength and stamina will increase tenfold and things that would normally cause harm to you cannot. Optionally, you may also be feeling extremely concupiscent, as the locals would put it - aka horny to you and me.

Somehow there's always a bad apple in the bunch though, right? Or several.

Unfortunately some of these apples are Apples of Discord. If you happen to pick one of these, one bite will still give you all of the traits mentioned above but for the next twenty-four hours you will find that unluckiness and chaos seems to shadow your every step...

So maybe you're passing beneath an open window and a maid accidentally empties a vase of water and some dead flowers on your head. Maybe you're in your local inn just trying to have a quiet drink but find that others are constantly trying to start a fight with you. Trying to get lucky with that special someone? Maybe certain parts of your anatomy just will not get with the program. And we advise you to maybe avoid carrying anything delicate and breakable for the next short while.

Wildcard

To assist you with inspiration our full list of Andovale's locations can be found here.

Want to play something that isn't listed here? Go ahead!

Please note that TDMs are considered game canon.

Both prospective and current characters who are already in game will be permitted to top-level on TDMs.

As your first port of call, we would recommend having a read of the premise page, as well as our rules. For any general game questions you may have which are not answered by the FAQ then please leave a comment on the FAQ page - for any questions specific to this TDM then please respond to the questions comment below.

Most importantly - have fun!

Comments

Eponine Thenardier - Les Miserables

[gardienne]

Arrival

Eponine has no idea where she is or who this Lady Phlegm is and frankly she doesn't care. She's remarkably blasé about waking up in a completely different place to the muddy ditch where she had fallen asleep and goes with the butler almost in a daze. It's only once she's allowed to roam the buildings that she seems to gain her senses enough to realise that she's completely out of place. The rags that she wears are filthy - she's filthy - her hair's a massive knot and... and she doesn't know how to behave. She's too dirty to sit down anywhere, too smelly to be wanted in a kitchen, too awkward to stand and chat. She flees the people in the communal rooms and finds the garden instead. Outside is better. Outside, she finds a little watering can and sets about watering the flowers. When somebody approaches, she drops the can guiltily.

"I weren't picking none, I swear. Just helping them to grow, you know? I swear. It's water."

The ball

A Cinderella moment has happened to Eponine. She'd been persuaded into a bath and scrubbed within an inch of her life. Several changes of water later, and after an hour of makeup and hair styling, Eponine had been given a dress and sent to a ball.
She stands shyly in the entrance, her golden mask obscuring her features. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't belong and she's going to be found out.

"What do I do?" she hisses anxiously at the nearest person.

Apples

Eponine wants an apple. She really wants an apple. Not just because they're food and her stomach rumbles nearly constantly. Not just because she can see the juice, can smell their sweet scent on the air as the stall girl bites them. Not because, hidden as she is, her mouth is watering.
No. But because they're gold - and gold sells.

She waits until there's a crowd before she slips over to the stall and quickly pockets a couple of the apples. One for herself and one to sell. Surely the seller won't notice two fruits less?
Eponine walks away quickly, hands pressed tight to her bulging pockets.

arrival

[frenchkissed]

( eddie is also deathly out of his element in this space. still, he likes it. he doesn't know what the fuck it is, but he likes it. the fresh air, the... carriages. it's beyond him, yeah, but he's managing to take it all in better than most, it seems.

when the watering can clatters to the ground, he raises his hands to show he's unarmed. )

Hey, woah. It's okay. We're cool. I'm not gonna... get you in trouble. I'm not a cop. Guard, I guess. ( he hasn't looked too closely at the system of crime and punishment in this place just yet. ) If you want a flower, take it. It's cool. It's just a flower.

[gardienne]

"I weren't picking them," Eponine shakes her head.
"Me, I don't like flowers picked and plucked and stuffed into a glass or around the décolletage of a woman or that. It is to stop them from growing, no? What good is fleeting beauty? Here, it is for us all and not just them what can afford it, no?"

She steps forward, stepping over her abandoned can.

"Don't you think they're beautiful, Monsieur? Aren't they so very pretty?"

The Ball!

[english_rose]

"One suspects that you socialize and dance," Erina murmurs gently beside her. "Is that not what one does at a ball?"

Erina feels decidedly underdressed - after all, this is delightfully old clothing for her. Her great-grandmother wore this... and goodness, it's so airy. She has a mask in one hand, and keeps it held to her face - it's a harlequin's mask in silver and blacks, and is being tied to the side of her head with a spray of white ribbons.

Across the mask, the words But honestly, who can dance under this odd situation?

Re: The Ball!

[gardienne]

“Oh.”

Socialise? Dance? With all of these grand people? Eponine nods, as if she does it all the time.

“Oh yes. Forgive me, Miss. I forget myself.” She puts on an affected accent, trying to disguise her rough voice.
“Why are we in an odd circumstance? This looks similar to the ballroom of… of le chateau… le Chateau du Fage.”

She’s blatantly making the name up. As much as she tries to pretend indifference, she’s fizzing inside. This whole thing feels like a dream, so words rolling along a mask seem perfectly natural and normal too. Maybe rich people can afford magic? What does it matter anyway?

“What’s your name, Miss? If you please?”

[english_rose]

"My name? It's Erina Pendleton, formerly of London and now..." She makes a vague gesture to the room. "Here, I suppose."

Erina was good at spotting a lie - after all, it happened many times in the hospital, women of the night who did not wish to disclose their medical history, just wanting to have things fixed again so they could go work. There's no reason to lie... but I suppose you can't trust me either, can you? Poor thing.

[gardienne]

“I’m not lying.” Eponine’s accent drops as she reads the words on Erina’s mask. “And you are rude to imply such a thing, Miss. I couldn’t read if I weren’t a proper lady, could I?”

But it’s obvious from how stiffly she holds herself, how rotten her teeth are, how she sounds, that she’s lying. Eponine is a good liar but this is completely foreign to her.

[english_rose]

"I never said--" Erina paused and pursed her lips in thought - and mild annoyance. "One doesn't need to be wealthy to know how to be literate." She did, however, have the benefit of an education, being a doctor's daughter.

"And it doesn't harm you to speak with your own accent and not someone else's."

[gardienne]

“Miss, you don’t learn to read on the street.” Education, as scant as her’s is, is the only thing that elevates Eponine above the thousands of other street girls. She needs this. She needs to feel just a little less than scum.

“Yes I do. Miss, this is a dream, no? And until I wake up, I want to be a princess at a ball and find a prince, not scum what people spit on and forget. If they hear my voice, they will throw me out before I can have a ball.”

[english_rose]

"If it is a dream, it is a very vexing one." Erina furrowed her brow beneath her mask, Education is compulsory now, isn't it? They just passed that law when I was eight. Thank goodness for English educators. "Surely they would not insist to fill our dance cards up themselves."

ball.

[1stpersonsingular]

At the angry hiss, Germaine turns towards the speaker, finding one of those diamonds in the rough that upperclass balls are sometimes enriched with a visit from, the kind of girl who evidently knows nothing about how to behave and speak, but holds a charm entirely her own, impossible to copy for everyone else. Never in her life has the likes of Germaine been addressed by a diamond in the rough, however. For a moment, she doesn't know how best to respond.

I SUGGEST YOU DO AS I DO AND RUN, her Harlequin mask projects, as if to give the answer that Germaine herself struggles with, though she composes herself quickly, raising her chin and turning her head towards the nearest escape route (a side door) that leads nowhere, Germaine has tried.

"I've been told I'm a horrible example of a guest, asking me is highly inadvisable."

[gardienne]

It is absolutely unfortunate in this moment that Eponine is one of the few Parisian street girls of her time that can actually read. Her heart sinks as she reads the words on Germaine's mask. She shouldn't be here. They don't want her here.

"I was invited, you know? That Lady Phlegm wrote me. They dressed me up. They said - oh."

Eponine lasps into a sad silence, studying the other woman. "Why should I run? Why are you a bad guest?"

[1stpersonsingular]

At the girl's defence of herself, Germaine looks at her quietly, thinking perhaps she ought to show greater sympathy for another female trapped in this sad web of patriarchal nonsense, but that is when the girl interrupts herself and asks why she should run, when Germaine is quite certain she never spoke those words out loud.

A pause. She swallows, decides to focus on the latter question, much more easily answered. "I don't dance, for one." She looks around, couples dancing in square formations all around - the cotillion, she recognises it although she's never tread foot along those steps. Long before her time and far outside her areas of interest. "And I am difficult to compliment, too. Perhaps, if you want to know how to act, do the opposite of me."

I SHALL WATCH WITH ENVY, her mask projects.

[gardienne]

“Don’t you?” Eponine asks surprised. “You’re a lady, ain’t you?” She can hear it in Germaine’s accent, see it in the way she holds herself, the self assure manner she seems to have. Eponine blushes as the colloquial ‘ain’t’ slips from her lips. Soap and a pretty dress is fooling nobody it seems.

“I thought all little Misses learned to dance. I saw once, through a window. I would’ve given anything to have a class like that. Or even just to watch. To hear the music. I wouldn’t have minded being a servant, I think, but that life ain’t for me.”

She watches wistfully for a moment.
“I am sure you can have a lesson if you are so jealous of them,” she says.
“Here, it is that whatever we ask is ours. Me, I never thought to even look at a dress like this but see it on me? You can have what you want. You can be a princess if that is how you like, Miss.”

[1stpersonsingular]

It's not, Germaine wishes to reply, but there's something in the air with which the girl speaks, the longing, the dreaminess that softens her otherwise sharp, unapologetic edges. Thus, she doesn't say it and her mask doesn't project it either, because it's not a secret. To anyone else, she would simply have said, I wish to possess the crown of a king.

To this girl, she manages a small smile and shakes her head, looking around. They dance, in their squares and they are all wearing beautiful clothes and they look rich to the naked eye, but the naked eye is easily fooled and masks hide many things.

Well, when they don't display all of it.

Germaine replies after a short while, "I would like to be free, but what are the chances of being free in a place to which you have been brought against your will, mademoiselle? How could freedom thrive here?"

HOW COULD I? HOW COULD SHE, ONCE SHE'S OUT OF HER FINE DRESS, the mask finds her thinking.

[gardienne]

Eponine looks curiously at her partner.
“Did you choose where you were born, Miss? Who your parents are? Isn’t this the same, really?”

She laughs at Germaine’s mask.
“Me? How shall I survive? You see, Miss, I am a princess now, but really, I am a cockroach. It is that we are pests and pains, not welcome and people want us dead, no? But a cockroach? He lives, even stamped or frozen or poisoned. He is a horrid thing who is too stubborn to die. Me? I am a cockroach. It is a sad thing really. I would have rather been a rat.”

Obviously that makes sense. Eponine doesn’t notice.
“I don’t care if I haven’t been given a choice to be here, Miss. This has been the most loveliest thing that has happened to me. Even you, Miss. if we were home, you wouldn’t look at me and I’d be too busy putting my hand in your pocket to notice it.”
Eponine laughs.
“And now we talk as an equal. It is truly, wonderfully lovely I think.”

[1stpersonsingular]

She would like to say that she is a realist, would Germaine. She would like to say see sees the world for what it is, but naturally her observations of these things are as objective as anyone's. Her status, her station, her opportunities and experiences in life all colour the picture for her.

And as she looks at this girl who has never seen herself an equal with someone like Germaine Dupont, who has been a cockroach her whole life, who dreams of being a rat instead - Germaine has a minor epiphany. All her grand ideals, her strong principles, that mean little in the reality of this girl, because they have nothing to do there, they have little to do with her. Her person. Everything she is worth as one.

So, stepping forward slightly hesitantly, Germaine holds out her hand to the other girl and nods towards the dancers to the side. "It is by choice I don't dance. I have been taught how and I can teach you now, if you wish." When did she last as much as consider moving to music like this, for enjoyment? She has almost forgotten entirely what it's like. Steps are nothing but names to her anymore. "What is your name?"

BE CALLED SOMETHING SWEET AS YOURSELF, her mask reads.

Apples - your call on format :)

[avatar_state]

Being observant is a key skill, when you're the Avatar. It keeps you alive, quite frankly - not like, "aha, I deduce from your gait, dress, and visage that you are a Fire Nation cobbler of some renown, recently returned from such-and-such island, and that you are left handed."

But just...seeing people. That's a crucial part of it. Seeing people. So many powerful beings tend not to, something has to balance the scales.

She's leaned against a doorjamb, strong arms crossed, and calls out.

"If you're hungry, I could buy you some food."

[gardienne]

“I don’t know what you speak of, Miss.” In her voice, there’s nothing to suggest she’s lying. It’s a skill Eponine’s practiced over the years and she’s sure in her ability, rarely caught out at home.

But this isn’t home and for the first time in her life, people are looking at Eponine- really looking at her.

“But my mouth, she waters. I shan’t say no to food, if you have coin, Miss. There are apples on the market? They are cheap for you to buy.”

[avatar_state]

"Yeah, let's...let's be careful of the apples," she replied. Ugh, so many stories start that way.

"C'mon, there's got to be proper food around here somewhere. Not, like, the tiny sandwiches the maids or butlers bring. But meat, noodles! A good soup! Something worth eating."

[gardienne]

"Why? I like apples." Eponine frowns, but she follows the girl anyway, mouth watering as she describes the meat and noodles and soup.

"Will they just let us have them though, Miss? I ain't got no money."

[avatar_state]

"Too many stories," she says. "Doesn't your culture trust you to distrust something like golden apples just there for the taking?"

But she smiles at the latter.

"Well, we can probably barter for it. Haven't met a restaurant owner yet who won't trade some food for a bit of scrubbing. And who knows, we might get lucky and get to run a tab."

[gardienne]

“There are stories?” Eponine’s confused. “But no, Miss. if something is free at home, I take it.”
If something has a price on it and she can get away with it, she’ll take it.

“A restaurant?” Eponine follows cautiously. “Miss, I don’t think this is an idea to be had. People don’t like the likes of me in their shop. They chase me with a broom or dirty water or that. I - I ain’t welcome in proper places, even to scrub.”

apples.

[rivalesses]

If Gorgo were to pay attention to every pickpocket and thief in the market, she's sure she wouldn't be doing anything else and currently she's a bit preoccupied looking for dried flowers. However, the girl catches her attention, not because she's pocketing two of the golden apples that are surely food for the gods and not for men, but because she looks like she might need a divine favour. Or food. Possibly both.

So, Gorgo takes the apple that the owner of the stall gives her, meant for herself no doubt, to taste - but she isn't touching these things with a pole, except for someone else's sake. Then, she heads after the girl, having to hurry to catch up, catching her with a hand on the girl's shoulder. It's not a grab, it's a soft hold.

"Wait a moment."

[gardienne]

"I've not done anything." Eponine's heart plummets. The hand on her shoulder isn't accusatory exactly, not like Javert when he had clamped down and yanked her to him. But still. It's a hand stopping her. She shakes off the hand and turns to Gorgo.

"I've done nothing, Miss. May I go? Please?"