repeter | APRIL TDM

APRIL TDM

TEST DRIVE

APRIL TEST DRIVE
The city of Recollé. A beautiful city you've called home for quite some time. While things can be a little weird, isn't that true of all homes? It's fully spring now, and there are flowers to be found everywhere. April's showers are a familiarity as well, the occasional downpour or drizzle keeping you on your toes.

What will you do today?

I.
April showers bring May flowers, right? Well, there are already plenty of flowers to be had, but that part of the old rhyme being true doesn't save you from the first part of it. While the weather forecasters do their best, their success rate for predicting the rain seems to be about fifty-fifty. Unfortunately, sometimes when they do predict the rain happening, they misjudge how bad it's going to be. Was the sky was clear when you last looked outside? It may not be quite so clear now. Hope you remembered to bring an umbrella today.

But it's not so bad, really! Maybe if you forgot to prepare, someone will share their umbrella with you. Not in the mood to talk to anyone? You can probably find some thrifty umbrella vendors on the streets of Tisse. When in doubt, there are always some loaner umbrellas scattered around in Apprassage at the Recollé Library as well. The library asks that you return any of the mismatched loaners found at the door, but it's not like the system is that strongly enforced. Well, other than the library stamp on the umbrellas, that is.

If you find yourself in Chata today, you could always buy a magazine off the street corners to hold overhead. If you look like you may buy something, vendors don't seem to mind if you idle under their awnings. Check out the latest fashions coming this spring while you wait it out. It looks like buckles are in, but some of the high fashion clothes look a little odder than usual. The hot, new dresses range from large like a billowing tarp to appearing more like an artfully arranged handkerchief than anything else. Fashion sure is weird sometimes.

II.
Recollé Square in Tribunal Terrace boasts a huge assortment of flower gardens scattered throughout the district, though they all appear to be whatever citizens felt like planting at the time. In fact, only flowers in Apprassage seem to match, especially around the University. Today, while the rain's stopped, a large group of people seem to be taking advantage of Recollé Square's mismatching for flower picking, crown and wreath weaving, and bouquet arranging. The activities seem to be loosely led by the city's PTA and some of the other socialite groups from around town. Then again, for long-standing citizens of the city this isn't unusual either. You seem to remember that this is an annual sort of thing even though there isn't actually a name for the event.

Some booths are set up around the park to swap seeds, flowers and food for cash or gossip, the guidelines a little more loose outside of the business districts. It seems as though lot of families are picnicking this weekend. There's even some kind of contest going on for the best flower crown - though usually the city tends to collectively pick a kid for the winner, so your best artistic talents might not get you the admiration you crave.

In addition, there's the most accurately judged flower-growing contest if you've been waiting for this day for a year or more, but that event tends to have the same people involved every year and the majority of Recollé isn't too heavily invested in it. They're here for the picnics and flower crowns, and it seems about the same as it always does. This year, though, there do seem to be more flowers than ever...and for that matter, they're a lot bigger than usual, too.

III.
Despite some of the fashion fiascos the magazines are displaying, maybe you should spend some time shopping this week. It may come as a surprise to you that your clothes haven't been fitting properly as of late. Those skinny jeans are just a hair too loose, and your favorite shirt seems baggier than it used to be. The problem, however, is that every shop you go to seems to stock clothes with the same issues. You're down a size or two or three, or maybe they're just marking everything down wrong. And surely you don't have the time or money to replace your entire wardrobe...will you take your chances? Complain to the store's manager? Or maybe you're an unfortunate soul who has to try and explain the unexplainable. Maybe offering a coupon will appease shoppers today.

IV.
Apparently walking around your neighborhood isn't quite as safe as it used to be - or it isn't safe if you want to trust your eyes. One second the little old lady who lives at the corner appears to be walking her pitbull just as she has every day for the last several years. The next, the pitbull is gone and she's walking a rather angry-looking caterpillar. Blink and you'll miss it, but as time goes on you'll see more and more of these larger-than-life insects wandering around. No matter how hard you try to explain it, the only other people who seem to see this as the least bit weird are people with the Retrospec app.

Oh, do you not have the Retrospec app? Think again. The sound of chirping crickets will follow you until the next time you look at your mobile device or a public computer, prompting you to accept a profile and upload a user picture. Congratulations! It seems as though you've been selected to be a new tester!

...it's going to be one of those days.

BONUS.
While the Retrospec app only infrequently has posts from the company itself - and those have thus far proven to be universally useless - this month there is an onslaught of updates. At least once per day there's a picture of a new type of flower or insect, along with a "fun fact" about whatever the company has posted.

Did you know, for example, that wasps feeding on fermenting juice have been known to get "drunk' and pass out? Ancient civilizations burned aster leaves to ward off evil spirits. Ticks can grow from the size of a grain of rice to the size of a marble. Roses are related to apples, raspberries, cherries, peaches, plums, nectarines, pears and almonds. Houseflies find sugar with their feet, which are 10 million times more sensitive than human tongues. Praying mantises prey on other insects, and perhaps you'd better watch your step.

Wait, what?

As usual, any attempt to get the company to reply about the increasingly disturbing information they're sending out is useless. The daily facts grow less and less useful and eventually seem to be nothing but fun facts about how flowers and bugs could kill you or one another. Kind of unfortunate for you, if this is your first time getting any messages whatsoever from the app. How do you unsubscribe? Good luck figuring it out.

Welcome to the

recolle test drive meme! All characters will be begin in-game AU'd as Recollé residents. You may use any of the above prompts for ideas or make up your own depicting your Recollé AU! Prompts do not have to be set in the districts listed above. You can review our list of locations for what's available. Please note that TDM threads can be used as samples, can be kept as game canon, and can also be used for bonus points for future item regains. Share a few minor details of your AU, tag around, and have fun! The April 2017 TDM directory can be found here. The April 2017 Workshop can be found here. The mod questions comment is here.

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III.

Orion huffs a sigh as he listens to your complaint about whatever article of clothing that doesn't seem to fit. You've got to be the five hundredth customer for this circumstance. He's tired and he still has half a day of work to go before he's off shift.

"Listen, we just sell them, we don't make them. Have you tried calling the company listed on the back of the label?"

Look, he's trying to be polite about this. Really. Even though he probably looks relatively annoyed.

"We ordered everything as we normally do. It's not on us if your size doesn't fit. Either take it up with the distributor or just return it and get another size."

He watches you with a rather unamused look. This cashier gig is obviously nothing new to him.

IV.

Orion's used to hallucinations, so he's... sort of? been able to ignore most of this. Only sort of, though. Bugs don't make faces. So, this has to be an hallucination, right? And they're gone in a blink. But... with the frequency of which it's beginning to happen, and with his phone making spastic cricket sounds he's...

Just about had enough.

After looking at his phone for probably the five hundredth time after it goes off, he just... decides to drop it in a trash can. Fuck this, he'll buy a new phone in a few days. He doesn't need this crap harassing him. It's only serving to make his paranoia worse at this point.

He rounds the corner, nearly crashing into what he was sure was a giant butterfly just a millisecond before causes him to fling himself back and into another person, making him give a second jolt.

"Shit!" He spins around, giving you a mildly terrified look, before giving a few hurried breaths and leaning against the nearby wall. "S...sorry. Shit. I didn't see you there..."

He runs a hand over his face as he quickly tries to recover from his panic attack, not even looking you over to see if you're okay.

Edited 2017-04-19 14:40 (UTC)

She remembers this guy from a few days back, when she'd tried to return a sweatshirt that was suddenly a million times too big for her. He'd been kind of rude and mostly unhelpful, and not being above annoyance, she allows it to show when he suddenly slams backward into her.

"Wow. No kidding," she says, sardonic and clearly irritated, but something about the panicked expression on his face gives her pause. She can see the whites of his eyes, just about, the agitated edge to his breathing.

"...Hey. You okay?"

Edited 2017-04-20 02:22 (UTC)

If he recognizes her, it's not showing. He stares more intently at the concrete between his shoes, unconsciously grabbing for his phone in his pocket. ...Oh, right. He tossed that.

He snags his breath a moment at the question. At the moment, no. He's totally not alright. But he should be, once he recovers for a moment or three.

"Did you.... N-no. Of course you didn't...." He hisses a few more breaths, grasping desperately to take deeper ones. He presses his back firmly against the wall - a measure to make sure no one, or no thing, can step behind him. Basic measures to make sure that his paranoia doesn't at least get worse. The bare minimum of thinking amongst a frantic swirl of unwanted thoughts.

"Please..." he breathes roughly, waving a hand up in a vague stop motion. "For the love of God... Don't... Don't touch me..."

Just in case she was thinking it. For his sanity and her safety. He doesn't want to lash out at her. It's bad enough that he's having an episode in front of her, he doesn't need her to think he's any more abnormal. He's almost convinced she's wondering what kind of freak he must be.

"Did I what?"

She asks this with careful patience, her tone getting the calm notes of a doctor delivering news to a patient. No judgement here...though her expression twists some in annoyance when he demands she not touch him. Her tone doesn't change (much), though that takes a lot of effort on her part, and she maybe sounds a little sarcastic when she responds. There's an eyeroll. She can't help it, is what she'd say to her dad, were he around. They both knew full well she could, but it never stopped her from saying it.

"Okaaay. You were rude about the sweatshirt, but I'm not going to fight a guy in an alley who looks one step away from a heart attack. I'll ask again: are you okay?"

He glances up at her.

"See it. The massive butterfly..." He closes his eyes and huffs through his nose. Of course he sounds ridiculous for saying it. Well, if people don't want to know, they shouldn't ask.

He slides himself down the wall to the ground, sitting there, trying to process words, both hers and his own. She's asked him again. It's troublesome to say the least. Why does she have to ask that question?

Fine.

"No," he manages to huff out. He clenches his jaw as he prepares for a following barrage of questions of what's wrongs and whys. He pushes himself harder against the wall. As if the wall would give way to him. But it stands firm and he curls one of his knees to his chest.

"The massive butterfly. Right." Alison repeats this, incredulous despite her best effort not to be, and turns in the direction he's facing to get a look at this apparent enormous, pollinating scourge.

There's nothing, of course. She was expecting nothing and got it. But she's not dismissive of him at least, still keeping the kind of distance she reserved for skittish deer or strange dogs, though she crouches some so that they're mostly at eye level. She doesn't like talking while standing over him.

"Okay. I know it sounds cliche, but take deep breaths. Slow. From your diaphragm. Like filling a balloon." There's a brief pause, wherein she does ask a question, though it's not one of the usual ones.

"See anything else out of the ordinary today?"

Despite his apprehension, he starts to do as he's told. The process he's been walked through before and told to repeat in just such a circumstance. It's just easier when someone reminds him.

A slow, shaky breath in before he exhales.

"Bugs..." A groan. "Just... weird bugs, huge, with faces."

Yea, he knows it sounds stupid and weird. Even he thinks so. He starts filing the information mentally to remind himself that none of these bugs are real and everything is actually fine, even if it feels like it's real.

He takes another deep breath and finds himself pinching the bridge of his nose to try and sooth the stress. He's kind of halfway expecting to get laughed at at this point, really. But the more common reaction is when people just back away from him, finding him too odd to deal with. Another deep breath as he hisses through his teeth.

Bugs with faces. Yikes. Everything about this screams "crazy hobo in an alley," but Alison is patient. Mostly. And has good bedside manner! Generally. It does sound weird and unbelievable, though she's taking it in a surprising amount of stride. No laughter, at least. Telling him it's all in his head will do more harm than good, too. She knows this. She knows logically, that it would be better for her if she left him to himself, but she can't do that either. It's not right.

Instead she grabs a water bottle from its spot nestled in her backpack, hands it out to him with the wary caution of one giving an offering to a wild animal to appease it.

"Here. It's just water, but it'll help."

He looks at the water bottle, then back at her. For a moment, he stares at it like it's completely foreign product, before he gently reaches out and takes it, not unlike said animal being appeased. He hardly takes his eyes off of her as he takes a drink, trying to figure out why she's actually giving him the time of day. Didn't she say something about a sweatshirt?

A few more cautious drinks of water as he tumbles over thoughts that replace the panic he was feeling a handful of moments before.

As his breathing becomes more natural, making him more stable, he presses a hand to the ground, pushing himself back off of it. He holds the water bottle back out to her and scratches the back of his head.

"Uhm... thanks." He sounds completely puzzled.

Come to think of it, yea. Now he remembers this girl, when she tried to return that sweatshirt. Actually, that's even more confusing. If he pissed her off, why would she go out of her way to help him? He can't guarantee he'd be so inclined to do the same for someone else.

His puzzlement seems to amuse her. Maybe human decency was in short supply, but she's just not the sort to leave weird, horrified guys in alleys. You couldn't help everyone, didn't always want to, but a dissatisfied retail grunt wasn't the rudest she'd encountered.

"It's nothing." A wave of her hand. She's already dismissing it. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yea, I'll be alright. Have to admit, bugs with faces is a new one on the hallucinations list. But I'll get over it. I kind of see weird things all the time."

Still easier than dealing with paranoid delusions.

His face crosses into something bitter as he gives a few more thoughts over what he goes through on a regular basis, before returning back to it's former appearance.

"Erm.... but you walking me through it helped." Y'know, alot.

"I'm glad to hear it." To her credit, Alison's only reaction to his mention of hallucinations is raised eyebrows. She leans back again, stands up, dusts off her jeans.

"If you're sure you'll be okay." She's not entirely convinced...but he's a stranger, not a friend. She had no need to linger. "I gotta go. But take care of yourself."

And she can't help but add: "Maybe you'll give me less of a hard time the next time I need to return something."

"Yea, I'll be fine."

Orion scoffs at her additional commentary. Why would he do that? Just because she was nice to him?

"We'll see." Besides, it also depends on if he'll be working the same job at that time. He doubts it. "Besides, boss's rules on no returns."

Not that he has to be rude while he does it, but... oh, well.

Edited 2017-04-28 00:11 (UTC)

"Fair enough." Now it's Alison's turn to scoff. She doesn't seem too bothered, however.

"Then I'll see you around." Or not.

She throws a wave over her shoulder as she departs, though.

Okay, so. Fai knows he's kind of a twig, but this is ridiculous. He's standing inside one of the changing rooms with his thumb hooked in the waistband of a pair of jeans he's trying on, and there are at least five inches of gap between the fabric and his skin. This, after he's already tried his normal size and had to move a size down. This is one of the only shops in town that carries his size of jeans--for twigs who also happen to be six feet tall--without having to order online, and now suddenly they're not fitting anymore.

It's possible he's lost weight, maybe he's missed a meal here or there while he was studying or working, but there's no way he's lost that much weight. So even though it's kind of flattering, the blond sighs and prepares to slip the dumb things off and put his old ratty jeans back on. He'll just have to try somewhere else.

...except that's when he catches the sound of a familiar voice, and the sound of someone complaining about the exact same thing he's currently fretting about. Holding the waist of the jeans so they don't fall right off his hips, he pads out in his socks to see some random customer walking away from his neighbor in a huff. His smile is sort of a cross between friendly and bemused as he crosses over to Orion.

"I take it it's not just me, then?"

Orion glances at Fai, cocking a slight eyebrow as he realises it's his neighbour, and gives a sigh.

"Try you and five thousand others." He looks the opposite of pleased about it. "Do you need a return, too?"

Seriously, he has no idea what's going on, but why does everyone think it's the cashier's fault? Does he look like the one who makes them? It should be blatantly obvious that if it doesn't fit, you should go with another size. Who cares what the label says? He doesn't understand why it has to say medium instead of large. People are complaining about virtually nothing.

"The best I can do is tell my manager we got a weird shipment, but... I don't know what the people expect us to do about it. It doesn't fix the problem immediately. It might not even fix the problem at all if the distributor has decided that medium is the new small. ....I've certainly seen weirder things happen with companies."

He just shakes his head.

"Me? No." Fai mirrors Orion, shaking his head. "I had the good sense to try them on before buying them, thankfully." He glances down at the handful of fabric he's holding, keeping the jeans from falling off himself. "Possibly the only time you'll catch me displaying common sense," he adds with a wry smile.

"It's funny, I guess I always assumed sizes were trending downward? Making people feel bad about themselves and all. Not that it's your fault, or the store's fault, of course! But you're probably right, it might just be a bad shipment."

He sighs. "I think this was the smallest 'Tall' on the shelf, too."

"Yea, you're the skinniest person I know." Seriously, dude. You look fragile sometimes. Eat a cheeseburger. Orion kind of shrugs, folding his arms as he leans on the counter, obviously more calm with Fai than he is with the more aggressive customers. "You can always try a belt, or a tailor. But we won't get another shipment in for a couple of weeks. Even if we file the complaint immediately, it takes time for it to process. Don't know how bad you're hurting for jeans."

It's not like he can offer his own jeans to help, nice as Fai is to him. Not only does Orion weigh more, he's shorter. The freaking bean pole. Safety pins and rigging is the best advice he has to offer in this scenario.

"I suppose I can notify you when we get the new shipment in. It'd be easy since I live right next to you to just say so."

"No, look, I'm just trying to find some sort of damn pajama shirt and it really shouldn't be this difficult. Look at this," he complains loudly, showing off a large shirt with sleeves that are far too small for the size. "Who sews a medium-sized shirt's sleeves on an extra large? This is just ridiculous! I can't even find clothes that are too big because they're all weirdly messed up like this. Let alone find a good rain coat for my kid!"

"You can contact the distributor to file a proper complaint and get a full refund, sir," he says rather dismissively. "Or you can take it to a tailor and see if the distributor will compensate the difference. Again, we don't make them. Do I look like the kind of guy that can sew to you? We can't do anything from our end."

He knows his solutions aren't particularly helpful, but... Orion is skilled in the art of not giving a damn about stuff like this. He knows how to stick to his guns. He also knows that the misshapen clothes are not his or this store's fault.

"I can file a complaint for you at best, but that still goes to the distributor. And we won't receive another shipment for two weeks."

French for: If you're looking for an immediate solution, there isn't one.

"You're more than welcome to try other pieces in the store." You can almost hear his eyes roll.

"I should be able to get a refund from the store I bought it from - if there's a distributor error, then your management should be vying for a refund anyway. What kind of cheap establishment is this place to be hiring from some crap distributor?"

It's almost obvious that Reigen's practically just here to look for a fight.

"We offer exchanges. You can exchange for a more suitable size, or another item entirely and we'll charge you the difference after the refund amount. If the new item costs less than the refund amount, we can give you a store credit." It's almost like a script he has memorized. "If you want a proper refund, you'll have to take it up with the distributor."

Yes, he's repeating himself. Go ahead, fight him. He's got all day, Reigen. (Well, not really, but he'll make an exception since he's just plain done with today. It wouldn't be the first time he's sacrificed a job over something stupid.)

"Alright, fine, let's get an exchange," Reigen huffs, slapping the mismatched shirt and going to the racks to look at the weird....baggy... clothes...

"What's with the fashion these days??"

Oh, good. The little problem child can cooperate. Orion seems to be amusing himself with some of the hangers behind the counter.

"You're guess is as good as mine. I don't keep up with the times." To be perfectly fair, people are lucky if he doesn't show up in a wrinkled, rank shirt that was laying on his floor from the day before.

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Heine Rammsteiner | Dogs: Bullets and Carnage

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