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singillppl2025-06-04 11:05 pm
singmod) wrote in singillppl2025-06-04 11:05 pm
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June 2025 Test Drive Meme
JUNE 2025 TDM
PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: A new group of arrivals find themselves lost in the frozen wilds and vulnerable to the dangers of nature. With luck, they make it to the town of Milton, and to a friendly face offering food, warmth and shelter — and the current inhabitants, their fellow survivors.
PROMPT TWO — WHAT LIES BENEATH: New fissures caused by seismic activity within the Northern Territories physiologically alters the Interlopers who check them out.
PROMPT THREE — SUFFOCATION RISK: Interlopers find it hard to breathe, and need a helping hand to catch a breather.
ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST
WHEN: Mid-month.
WHERE: Milton, Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential animal attacks, potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk.
'You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.'
It’s the last thing you hear. A dark, deep voice. Impossibly ancient. You feel afraid. Maybe you’re dreaming, maybe you’re wide awake. You saw the lights, and then your world went dark. But you hear it in the blackness, you won’t forget those words.
These are the words of the Darkwalker, you’ll soon come to find.
You awaken. You are not where you were before. It’s different for everyone, there doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern in where you find yourself. You may open your eyes to find yourself in a cold, dim and dank cabin. The air is stale, dust hangs in the rays of weak sunlight that shine through the tiny windows. Someone lived here once, but they aren’t to be found. This place has been ransacked, abandoned long ago. It is quiet. The wood creaks around you.
Or perhaps you may awaken to find yourself shivering in the yawning maw of a cave, the freezing stone below you. Or maybe you’re unfortunate enough to sit up to find yourself lying in the snow, in the middle of the wilderness. Snow lies thick around you. It’s freezing out. You haven’t felt a cold like this before in your entire life. Cruel and biting. You have no idea where you are, and what’s worse — you are completely alone.
The sun is bright, enclosed in light fog. It is a strange kind of twilight.
You may feel different, too. Any powers or magics you may have feel... absent. Disconnected. Things that may not have affected you previously now do. Something in you has changed.
You know you can’t stay where you are. You’ll need to move, try to work out where you are and how you came to be here. So you walk, head out into the unknown, in hope of finding a trail or a road. You’ll find one soon enough. It’s here you may find someone else in the same boat as yourself, equally freezing and confused. You’ll both need to keep going. It won’t be easy. You hear howls of wolves around you, and the terrain is difficult: slips and falls are likely. You’re completely vulnerable out here in the open.
Or it’s possible you may come across someone else here. Someone who looks far better prepared to deal with the freezing cold and frozen landscape, out hunting or gathering. They’ll likely offer help and get you into town. However, for the unlucky ones who don’t come across anyone, you’ll carry on until you see it: the lazy trail of smoke rising in the air. Fire. Not just one, but several. Civilization...?
Follow it, and soon enough the way you’ve taken will certainly become a path or road. Unfolding before you in the mountainous forests, you’ll see the most welcome of sights: a small mining town tucked up in the valley. Battered, rusted road signs will direct to “MILTON, POP. 947”. You’re almost there, you keep going, and it looks like other people have had the same idea as you. In fact, you’ll hear the muffled sounds of life. People! In the town!
As you head into the outskirts and then further into town, you’ll find it’s a little easier to walk but the cold has gripped you hard. You’ll find the buildings, both shops and homes, some are dark and lifeless, some of them are boarded up, some of them are occupied. People are going about their business, or stood watching from their tiny porches of their small, timber homes. For a town this big, there doesn’t seem to be many people. Several dozen at most, but no more.
Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building from which the biggest of the smoke trail rises: a school-house of sorts, or some kind of community hall. Perhaps both. You’ll find more and more people all drawn to this place, each and every one of them in the same position as yourself (and your companion, if you’ve found one). Some are in worse states than others: some are bloodied, nursing bite wounds or cuts; others might have some other kind of injury sustained in the journey here from falls. Others may look as if they could faint from the cold at any second.
The door opens, and you’re greeted by the gnarled, wizened face of an elderly man, dressed in thick furs. He has a kind face. He smiles warmly, and with pity, ushering you in with haste.
“Ah. Once more, you poor souls come.” he nods gravely. No, this is not the first time that this has happened. “I am Methuselah. I welcome you, Newcomer, although I’m sorry for how you’ve come to find yourself here. You are not the only one, the lights are changing things. Come. Mother Nature has not been kind to you, but there are plenty here to help.”
The room is dim, lit only by natural daylight through the windows. A roaring fire sits at one end of the huge hall. It crackles, bright and cheerful... and warm. Even as big as this place is, the room is pleasantly warm. You’ll also find basic cots set up down one side of the hall, and while it seems there's a few people already living here, there's enough space for those in need of them. There's places to rest for a moment and get your bearings, or just trying to recover from the cold. Down the other side are tables and chairs, and long tables laden with food, drinks and bottled water similar to one might find at a soup kitchen. Once again, Methuselah offers a feast, aided by some of the other Interlopers.
There are canisters with hot herbal teas, mostly. But some coffee can be found. There’s also soup and stew and trays of charred deer and rabbit meats, plus some grilled fish. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast for those who have battled the cold to come here.
Methuselah will continue to busy himself, still; there is plenty to do. He will fetch blankets, tend to wounds, serve food and drinks — aided by a handful of others in the Hall. Your fellow survivors, but those who have been here for some time now. He does not have much time to talk. More and more people seem to be coming in from the cold. He will not stop to sit and rest until everyone is seen to, taking up a place by the fire to gaze silently into its flames.
He will encourage newcomers to get warm and eat, and when they are ready to — they can explore the town and find one of the many empty homes to call their own. He will not speak much, but gesture to your fellow survivors. They will have better answers than him.
WHAT LIES BENEATH
WHEN: The month of June.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural ailments; mental manipulation; altered physiological states; potential character injuries; potential dangerous situations; potential cold injuries.
The world has gone quiet since last month’s quake that caused a considerable amount of damage around the Milton and Lakeside regions. Newer Interlopers have been met with a town still in the process of being repaired and rebuilt, and some properties have been abandoned all together, used only for spares and repairs of homes that are actually occupied. Milton was home to some thousand people in its hey-day, now it remains a shell of itself. Some hundred or so people making this place a home in a harsh and unforgiving world.
But the world is not completely quiet: tremors and minor quakes can still be felt as time goes on. These tremors don’t have the same impact as earlier quakes, but they’re enough to give someone pause — keeping Interlopers on their toes.
What’s more is the damage caused by this ongoing seismic activity is dotted all over the landscape: scars are beginning to show in the earth itself, or rather — open wounds.
The fissures are small and unassuming, but can easily snag someone’s attention. Even more curious about them is the occasional strange vapours that seem to curl and lazily rise from these fissures. The vapours are a faint green in colour, almost sickly, and there’s plenty enough in you to make you feel like you should keep well away from these rising fogs. But there’s something about curiosity and cats, after all.
The vapours won’t kill you, no. They certainly won’t do you any physical harm, either. No instant burning of the strange, caustic fog that plagued Interlopers last year, nor the sickness that Glimmerfog brought.
But getting close enough to the vapours to examine them will cause a change in you. It’s more of an insidious thing: gradual and slow, changes in your behaviour over the course of a week. Feeling a little more anxious than normal; snapping at people you interact with; avoidance of others; the feeling of being watched and a growing paranoia. You feel like the animal that has known the feel of the snare, or seen the barrel of the gun. Hunted and small.
Soon enough, this slow chipping away at your mind is enough to cause you to snap: fight or flight.
Fighters are lost into states of pure rage. They are combative, blind to anger in a desperate bid to survive — seeking out their dangers to face them head on. They are volatile, difficult to reason with. They will cause damage to anything around them, or anyone. They will cause damage to buildings, objects — smashing their way through whatever stands in their way. They will fight with those around them — their fellow Interlopers — lost in perceived threats.
Flighters are lost into states of pure fear. They’ll break down in crying fits, hysteria and abandon all logic — avoiding their dangers. They will try to escape from wherever they may be — wanting to run out into the wilds, putting them in potentially more dangerous situations. They could end up getting lost in the wilds, or encountering dangerous wildlife like moose, wolves or bears. Or perhaps even onto thin ice on bodies of water. They will hide whenever they can: under beds, in caves, anywhere their minds might tell them are places of safety.
To those around them, it’s finding a way to try and bring the affected Interloper back to their senses. It’s a little stumbling in the dark: wrangling flighters back to the safety of town, like trying to calm a spooked horse and give them a sense of safety and care and connection might be enough to bring them back to their sense. Fighters can arguably be dealt with the same way, but some might need restraining or fighting back in order to knock some sense into them. Perhaps even literally. Drawing blood in a fight with Fighters will also… strangely calm the affected Interloper down.
Affected Interlopers will be a little shaky afterwards. But a stiff drink or a hot meal and some rest will end up soothing them. Hopefully they won’t go poking around those fissures again.
SUFFOCATION RISK
WHEN: The month of June.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural afflictions; themes of suffocation; themes of co-dependency/unhealthy codependency; potential character death/near-death experience; medical emergencies.
You think that maybe it’s the weather. The Northern Territories have been known for unsettled and sometimes ferocious climate — this is the world of endless winter, after all. But June marks a period of calm as the midsummer draws near. Occasional biting winds are the only disturbances to that calm. Other than that, it’s just damn freezing. Even with the midsummer upon the world and the still weather — the world is frigid.
The cold often bites at one’s lungs, and maybe that’s all you think it is at first. Each breath is like ice, hard to catch, and you feel like you’re suffocating sometimes. Overexertion seems to make it worse, whether you’re hiking up a particularly difficult piece of terrain or carrying a heavy load.
Interlopers will need to stop to rest often, and even then it feels like you still can’t quite get your breath back. This breathlessness will slowly get worse over time, until it’s almost unbearable.
Until it ends up nosediving into something more horrifying. One day, it’s the worst it’s ever been. It feels like you’re drowning. Your breaths are shallow and quick. Your vision blurs and warps, a shimmer of dull prismatic at the corners of your eyes. The world grows smaller around you, your hearing growing dim and distorted. You cough and splutter, gasping for air that you cannot seem to breathe in.
Panic sets in. You are suffocating, and if something isn’t done quickly enough, you will die.
But there’s a strange pull in you, too. A need. A person. You get a sensation of them, something about them. Their hair colour, their voice, their smile. Maybe it’s someone you know, maybe it’s a complete stranger, but something in you pulls you towards them.
As the world closes in on you, everything zeros in on that person. They can help. Hopefully you have enough time to reach them, hopefully you can find them. Maybe they’re searching for you too, in the exact same predicament — unable to breathe and trying to find that person to help.
Reaching that person and touching them will finally allow you to breathe. Like the air is clear, and breaths are painless again. It’s like an instant balm, and slowly the world grows back again — vision and hearing restored. You don’t know why, but this person, whoever they are — has given you your breath back.
You’re spared from the affliction, for a short time. Soon enough, it will return, and you’ll need to find that person again. Or just keep them close for a little while.
FAQs
1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.
2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.
3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.
4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.
5. More information about Milton can be found here.
1. Characters can be affected multiple times by the vapours.
1. The length of time Interlopers are 'stuck' together to combat the Suffocation Risk affliction is player choice. It could be a couple of days or even weeks — with the affliction itself ending by the end of the month.
2. Both Interlopers can be suffering from Suffocation Risk, or just one.
3. Interlopers who do not reach the person in time will die. They could potentially be revived through CPR, however — provided they are found quick enough.
no subject
It can't have offended the young man too much, though, or he wouldn't slide down to sit on the floor, just like that, not even offput by Scout. It surprises Teddy almost as much as anything else they've encountered today. Somehow.
(Which, all right, they're starting to think their what the fuck meter shattered somewhere between woke up in the snow in a place I've clearly never been and a guy legit named Methuselah tells me this happens a lot. Maybe because of...lights?).
Teddy does the obvious thing and plunks himself down on the floor, turned in a little bit so they can face each other without Scout feeling inclined to move.
The wizard thing surprises a grin to her face.]
Wait, wait. Do you have a whole-ass wizard staff? Because that's kind of badass.
...Not that there's not something to the all-natural look, but. I'm imagining it sort of tapered down, or like. Carved out with a big ol' rock set into it. You know?
[They smile a little, self-aware but relaxing: it's so startlingly like the kind of thing they might ponder with a number of friends from home, except for the context.
Teddy nods quietly at the more serious question, wrapping an arm around their dog and making a face somewhere between a grimace and just thought. Scout gives a little huff and leans into their side.]
Yeah. I definitely "just showed up".
I -- how many people are here just ...from somewhere else?
no subject
Honestly? I’ve just been using sticks as I find them but, uh, thanks for the new project.
[ He grins and makes a mental note to whittle himself the most badass staff man can possibly find out here. Complete with a big ol’ rock set into it. ]
Most of us, honestly? A handful of people have come from the same places. Like, I’m pretty sure all the Victorian know one another. [ They do. They absolutely do. ] But for the most part? You’re looking at a real mixed bag of people, places, and times.
[ He won’t lie or try to make the whole thing seem better or easier than it is, but he can recognize the emotions Teddy is clearly going through, and while he just doesn’t have it in him to feel it anymore, he can be sympathetic. ]
If it’s any consolation, it all becomes “normal” pretty fast. Like, the weather isn’t gonna surprise you or anything. Pretty sure tomorrow it’s cold. Pretty sure next week it’s also cold.
cw: mild wrestling with reality and/or the concept of someone else being delusional (sry eddie!)
[That gives them a moment of pause, tilting their head a little. They'd gotten through you are not the first and, the lights, and okay, they've absorbed, a little bit, some other things: there isn't any electricity, something to do with auroras; they've kind of filed it all as off the grid and isolated, which is easier to comprehend in terms of what might or might not be available. And okay, they haven't really taken in the various clothing and hairstyles in terms of what they mean, but --
Their eyebrows pick a place somewhere several inches above where they should be and stay there.]
Times? Wait, wait -- okay, you said Victorians. And I assumed you had to mean, you know. British Columbia, or something, because we're in Canada. Right?
...you don't. Um. [Scout lifts her head to snuffle at Teddy's face: maybe because he's stopped idly scritching her, a little frozen; maybe because he's sure his heart is trying to escape his chest.
That's ...not possible. That's, just not... Okay! So, she struck up a chat with a slightly crazy guy. But just a very chill, geeky dude who happens to have some interesting, sort of thematically also-geeky delusions. Could've always been like that. Could be that you get stuck in the middle of nowhere in the snow...somehow...very far away from where you should be -- okay look this isn't about her, Teddy isn't going to interrogate how that part happens or why them or how anyone would go about the logistics right now, it's physically possible is the point! -- and, and: anyway, long enough and you end up believing in things like time travel.
Which is the most plausible explanation. Obviously.
He doesn't let himself take his eyes off the other's face to take in anyone else in the room.
There have been -- not a lot, but enough -- situations where things have been a little weird late at night, a little liminal, where Teddy has been in the position of speaking to someone who definitely was experiencing a somewhat different reality. Not always easy to tell the cause, and usually not especially relevant either. (Almost always at a gas station. Or side streets near venues.) Sometimes it's more distressing and sometimes it's been a good interaction, but the most uncomfortable part has only ever been determining how to best play things, not wondering if they were right. Ever. No matter how weird the night had been, Teddy's gut instinct has always known.
Yeah. Uh.
They take a breath.]
You don't mean from Victoria.
no subject
Yeah, so, uh...maybe I should have eased you into that, huh? Sorry about that.
[ He’s been here for so long that it’s become far too easy to forget that not everyone is as accepting to these ideas and concepts as he is now. He’d arrived ready to accept anything. There’s not a lot that can shock you after monsters and alternate dimensions. Milton is just an extension of all of that, except colder. ]
Uh…so, I’m gonna take a wild guess that that reaction means you’re not one of them, so…you’ve probably seen Back to the Future, right?
no subject
It’s just that this isn’t that, which. Changes things.
Or possibly, it doesn’t change much at all. Which is also a lot to grapple with.]
No, it’s — you’re all good. [She takes a breath and recenters, taking a slow glance around and seeing — really seeing — the diversity of forms, haircuts, bearings. Here in common for food and warmth and, probably, news, but not quite alike.]
I get the feeling this place isn’t gonna to wait for me to have my hand held through a tutorial, whether someone takes the time to do it or not. So.
[Teddy grins a little, eyes questioning. Where is this going?]
Yeah…?
…Please don’t tell me the mom thing has actually happened here.
no subject
Uh…honestly, I wouldn’t be totally shocked, but as far as I’m aware? Haven’t heard a word.
[ But hey, anything can happen out here. Hopefully not that, but it could. ]
But, uh, time travel, you know? I came here from 1986, but someone else might be from…the past or the future as far as my timeline goes. It’s freaky, but you get used to it pretty fast.
[ He talk about it so casually, and it’s clear that it’s something he’s had the time to deal with. He merely shrugs and grins. ]
So—past or future? You don’t look like a Victorian sailor, so I think we can rule that one out.
no subject
I mean. You never know. If that happened to me I wouldn’t say a word.
…How did that plot even... who greenlit that, you know?
[She laughs, and nods when he clarifies. Then blinks.
Well, that totally explains the hair.]
Jesus. Speaking of parents.
[Teddy’s tone is teasing, but a little stunned, still. Somehow 1986 is both close enough and not that it’s almost weirder than Victorians.]
1986. And you’re what… Twenty? Something? Shit, you’re older than my parents. Sort of.
[Teddy tips their head back in a huff of a laugh, and pushes their hair back.]
This is fucking wild. Okay, so, future, obviously. I was born in ‘97.
Wait. What year is it here?
no subject
Twenty-something, yeah. Kind of hard to keep track here, but, uh…probably twenty-one at this point?
[ He’s definitely had at least one birthday here, but when there aren’t even really recognizable seasons to act as milestone throughout the year, it’s difficult to make a proper judgment how much time has passed. Someone who does a better job of tracking the amount of daylight throughout the year might know, but Eddie is not that person. ]
Uh…2000-something? 2015? 2016?
[ Which is an absolutely baffling number to even acknowledge. If time were flowing properly and this weren’t a Back to the Future situation, he would be almost fifty. Absolutely older than someone’s parents, older than his parents when they had him, almost his Uncle Wayne’s age. He’s not sure he wants to think about that too much. ]
But, uh…from what I've heard, this place was never exactly the epitome of modern living, so you’d never know it.
no subject
They approve less of this whole not knowing how long you’ve been here thing.]
You don’t actually know how long you’ve been here? I …you know, I’m not even sure what exactly I hate about that so much but I hate that. Fuck.
[They’re gonna have to gotta keep a diary or something. Carve tallies on the wall like they’re in jail. Something.
Teddy’s distracted from it by the year though. He blinks. And then laughs, this time an open mouthed ha! because, what the fuck, actually.]
Holy shit. 20…So you should be my parents’ age and I should be in high school again. Okay. Sure!
[Teddy scrubs her face with her hands and pushes her hair back from her face. Only way out is through. At least she’s not actually forced to relive being a teenager.]
That part isn’t so odd to me. Where I’m from is pretty near the middle of nowhere. Maybe not this far out, but. Things do kind of take a while to catch on, and a lot of folks aren’t in any big hurry to have every new thing —- or they couldn’t really stay there. Felt almost familiar on the way in, even though we’re a lot more on the grid.
And warmer. Ugh.
no subject
[ He doesn’t even have any memories of that gap in time, but he knows it happened. Other have confirmed. He didn’t go home, he didn’t go anywhere. He just sort of existed until three months had passed and he ended right back here. He doesn’t love to think about it, but it’s difficult to just ignore entirely. ]
But that’s apparently not the norm, so nothing to worry about, right?
[ He’s sure it would be preferable to be told there’s an opportunity to go home, but he can’t lie to them. Maybe some people who have disappeared did find their way home, but Eddie isn’t one of them. ]
Yeah, you get used to it. Not like it gets any warmer. I'm Eddie, by the way.
[in which i very selectively weave some of the timeline together...uh]
Somehow what he says next, despite sort of proving them right, doesn't feel any better.]
Right. [Teddy scrunches his nose a little. What can you do. He's not going to get in his head about that right now. He's not doing it. Maybe there's a way home and maybe there's not, but it's the first day. There's no goddamn chance of toughing this out if he panics about that right now. He breezes on, instead.]
I mean, I reckon it would make it a lot harder to keep track of anything. Being gone and back, out of time -- again? [And then she can't help a little mischievous curl at one corner of her lips.] ...so you really did pull a Back to the Future.
Oh! Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't even ask. I'm ...Teddy.
[They reach across to offer a tattooed handshake, restraining a grin at the rhyme.
And then their brain snags on something. Eddie: like Edward. Maybe?
Now, Randvi had straight up mentioned two people, back to back, both named Edward before (almost) any other names. So whoever, whatever is in charge of bringing people here could just have a thing for Edwards, but... Teddy assesses: The Hair. 1986. Leads with wanting to be a wizard.]
Hey, uh. Settle something for me real quick: best metal riff, '80 to '85.
no subject
That’s what bothers him most about this place, he thinks. There’s no way of knowing where people go or what becomes of them. He worries less about Max and her disappearance than he did before, when he used to search for her daily, but he hasn't forgotten. ]
Minus the DeLorean, sure. Which is barely a car.
[ He snorts and reaches over to shake Teddy’s hand, a slow grin forming on his face. He's clearly not willing to let the rhyme go, even if Teddy is. ]
Alright, so we’re about to be the subjects of a Dr. Seuss book, I guess. Ed and Ted in the snow. Ed and Ted with nowhere else to go.
[ Masterful ryhming, Eddie. Really.
He raises his eyebrows, then he grins like he’s just been asked the biggest question of his life. He suspects someone has already informed this new arrival about his penchant for late night concerts when the aurora is around. ]
Aw, man, you’ve got me cornered. Let’s see…
[ He cracks his knuckles like he’s about to do some heavy lifting, then begins to ramble about something that clearly means a great deal to him: ]
So if you’re limiting me to five years…god, that’s hard. 1980 alone…Jesus. Okay! Okay. Kind of hard to beat Maiden… I mean, The Trooper? Incredible. But Holy Diver…Good shit, but the best? Eh…Heaven and Hell is good…Tony Iommi is the a guitar god, after all.
[ He gives a frustrated noise and scrunches his face up, then blurts out one last title. ]
Okay. Breaking the Law. Judas Priest. Final answer.
sorry about how freaking long this took! got sidelined by Event but we miss Eddie <3
They pitch in:]
'Why we're here we just don't know,' ...[He squints one eye at the syllable count.]
That's what Eddie says to Teddy.
[She giggles a little. And grins even more widely when Eddie practically beams at the question. Bingo. It wasn't a lie that it would settle something for them. Teddy just wasn't expecting it to be such a point of enthusiasm. She ends up sitting a little taller and watching him think out loud, delighted to watch someone who clearly gives a shit about music the way she does.
Teddy isn't the same kind of metal fan that Eddie obviously is, but they like a hell of a lot of different kinds of music, and they like that about themselves: they branch out on purpose. (They always say they got to cheat at being cool because their dad was the baby; Teddy's oldest cousin was already a high school senior when they were born, and there are plenty in the middle. Teddy tagged right along with their cousins, and the boys mostly encouraged it -- even if, looking back, it was probably partly for the hilarity of letting a little kid sing along with "Toxicity" or something.)
Besides, there are some riffs that remain sort of classic when you're learning to play rock, no matter what genre you might end up playing. So for the most part, Teddy mostly knows or kind of knows the ones he's picking, nodding along or making hmm-y little faces.]
Fair! I defer to your knowledge.
I'm partial to the Trooper, but. [She shrugs noncommittally.] I'm not from the 80s, for one thing. And... [Teddy makes a thoughtful face.] Huh. That could be influenced by listening to music backwards, if you want to get theoretical. I mean, because, I would say -- as your representative from the future -- ([Teddy puts a hand to her chest, affecting a slight air and mostly failing to keep a straight face]) -- Iron Maiden's for sure more influential than Judas Priest, but, like. Head to head I don't know that that actually says anything at all about one riff, right?
[Teddy grins, slightly guiltily.] Anyway. I was...kinda trying roundabout to figure out if you were the Edward Randvi mentioned, who plays metal guitar sometimes. And. [They click their tongue in a yeaaaah.] I'm suspecting you are...uh, indeed he.
I'm glad I asked, though? I mean, I was just excited someone else plays, at all, here, but. I mean, the way you talk about it. It's ...good to meet someone who really loves music. Anywhere, but especially. [Teddy sort of gestures around. In the snow, with nowhere else to go.]
no worries!
As Teddy continues his attempt at a Seuss rhyme, he lets out a bark of laughter. ]
Alright. Pretty sure we just collaborated on a new classic. You want your name on the cover or mine?
[ He feels like he should try to make a case for Judas Priest and Glenn Tipton, but Iron Maiden might even be consider more influential in his time as well. They just caught on more quickly, and he isn’t shocked to hear that things haven’t exactly changed in the future. What he is shocked by is the fact that Teddy can talk music with just as much passion and facts as Eddie, and he hasn’t found anyone here except Joel who can keep up with him in that regard. ]
Oh, sorry. You’re looking for the other Edward who plays metal guitar sometimes.
[ His eyes are wide, and for a moment, anyone could believe that statement as the truth—if Eddie didn’t ruin it for himself with a grin and a laugh. ]
I’m just messing with you. Yeah, that’d be me. The electricity doesn’t work often, but when it does…you’ll know. Pretty sure I’ve made like, half the town my enemies.
[ He’s loud, and he opts to play when everyone is trying to sleep. ]
I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you’re a musician too.