villagememes | test drive

WINTER TEST DRIVE
Welcome to the test drive and thank you for your interest in The Village. This test drive is not game canon but will allow players the opportunity to experiment with game mechanics, the setting, and the flexibility of choice allowed by this game. The following prompts are examples of typical situations characters might face in the game. At least one thread from the TDM is required as part of the game's application process.

The setting details and locations are still being unveiled in the game, so prospective players are welcome to play with established locations or create their own within the general setting of Mathias.

( Recommended listening: ♫ )

INTO THE ENDLESS
Winter has arrived in Mathias. Snow falls steadily, big puffy flakes that pile up quickly in drifts as the wind blows them around town. The trees in the forest are covered in it, the branches bending under the weight and shaking when the piles fall from them to the forest floor. The roofs of buildings become solid white and drifts form in doorways as the wind tries to rush inside anywhere it can.

New arrivals wake in the forest, with its winding paths twisting back on themselves as they branch in either direction. It isn't safe to stray from the path, there is a menacing fog that waits just a few yards inward in any direction, but for now, there is nothing impeding movement along those snow-covered paths that cut through the trees. Continue stumbling in one direction and you'll reach the small town, coming out near the mishmash of quaint houses that nestle beside crumbling ruins that used to be homes. But choose the other and you'll seem to stumble on forever, huddling against the wind until there seems to be a clearing up ahead—

And then nothing. The earth opens up before you in a ravine so deep that the bottom cannot be seen. The other side can be seen, tantalizingly out of reach, and there is the sense that safety is just beyond, if only you could get there. But with that sensation is also the knowledge that if you stay here, you will die. The edge seems unsteady, like getting too close would set it crumbling and send you tumbling into that dark endless nothing that waits below...

BODIES WITHOUT SOULS
Benedict Books is nestled quaintly on the square surrounding Mathias's Town Hall, a thick layer of dirt covering the front windows. Looking through those windows provides a much different view than looking directly into the shop through the doorway — vague shapes and forms of figures seem to be inside, though no details can be determined through the streaks of grime. Flickers that resemble flashlights can be seen passing along the windows from time to time, and on occasion there is even a muffled tapping sound that comes from behind the glass, as if someone is trying to get your attention. The same distorted figures can be seen looking through the windows from the inside outward, but moving from one side or the other reveals... nothing. There is nothing there, and perhaps it is all in your imagination.

A portrait hangs at the front of the store to illustrate the namesake of the little shop... that may, in fact, not be so little. Dust covers everything in sight and detritus litters the wooden floor, as if someone left the door open and allowed half the forest inside.

The books are mostly familiar titles from the 1990s and earlier, but close examination will reveal that key details seem to have been changed. They fill shelves in neat lines along the walls and rows in between, the building almost seeming to stretch on forever until, finally, a small office can be seen tucked away in the back. A glance back toward the front door gives the impression that the room isn't that big, after all. Strange that you previously thought so.

Prying the door open is the only way to get inside the small office; the hinges have rusted and are caked with dirt and grime. Search as you might, there are no interesting bits of information to be found here beyond a few inventory lists on the little desk. There is, however, a green and gold safe in the corner that, no matter how many times one turns the dial, simply clicks and clicks. Scratches around the safe indicate that someone tried to get in at one point, though there's no indication as to whether they succeeded.

THE END APPROACHES
Standing at the center of Mathias, the town hall is a modest two-story building that would be welcoming if not for the faded sign, chipped paint, and deafening silence within its empty halls. It's a typical government building, with a reception desk at the front and rows of identical offices within, the names half faded from each door. But what catches the attention is a large bulletin board on the main wall beside the reception desk, once meant to hold flyers or announcements for the community.

What it holds now is decidedly different. Tacked onto the board are scraps of paper covered in an assortment of handwriting styles — requests for supplies should anyone find them, pieces of information shared in the hopes of someone understanding the strange symbols and mathematical equations, notes about those missing or recently deceased. And over the center of the board, tacked on top of other papers, is a map discolored with age. Mathias Township can be read in the corner, a stretch of forest displayed beneath it, but everything else has been smeared to illegibility with red... ink? Upon close examination, a keen eye will realize that the ink is actually blood, though whether it is human is unknown. And scrawled across that forest, nearly covering the illustration of a clearing and a large house within, are the words

he is coming
A number of tarnished metal pushpins are scattered around the edges of the board, waiting for future messages to be shared, and a stack of pristine white paper and pile of cheap ballpoint pens rest on one of three chairs beside the board. The chairs are clearly meant for those waiting for meetings and are covered in the same layer of grime as everything else in the building — everything except the pens, paper, and bulletin board.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fair questions, really. They truly are. Ones that I believe we both can safely agree that neither of us have the answer to. However.

[ helen nods to the room around them. ]

The easiest solution would be that all of these books are counterfeit. A collection of oddities over the time to easily fool people. Perhaps the former owner found them around the globe.

Of course, I haven't ruled out the more wilder theories that spring to mind.

[ elena can't help but laugh, a little taken aback. what could be wilder than a less exciting take on cujo (and perhaps an upgrade on lord of the rings)? ]

What's one of your wilder theories?

[ alternate worlds isn't something that exists in her world. all elena can think of is that it might be counterfeit or someone's attempt at fan fiction. both are truly plausible. ]

It could be an elaborate shared dream state that something has put us in. Details in dreams are always hazy and often incorrect. The subconscious can hold vast amounts of data... but it may not always be as perfect clear as our conscious minds remember.

[ helen smiles a bit. she supposes she should offer the fact that she is a doctor. ]

Or, we've been transported somewhere else entirely. A plane that has no true similarities to the one that you and I know.

[ furrowing her brows thoughtfully, she latches onto the proffered alternate plane of existence. she knows dreams can be manipulated—sometimes she thinks hers have been, even though she has no concrete proof—and there's no proof to disprove this being an elaborate dream state.

but she's never dealt with alternate worlds before, and something tells her that perhaps her newfound friend has. ]

Do you mean like… Narnia? We've somehow ended up in a different world?

Narnia is a start. [ there is a playful tone to her voice then. ] Although, I don't recall it being a wardrobe that I stepped through.

A different world or a reality that is slightly different from the one we know. The possibilities are endless and quite staggering to consider.

For now, it's simply a theory. One that we'll need to find a way to test.

[ how do you test that? it's the question on the tip of her tongue, but elena studies her for a moment. first thing's first. ]

You sound like this is completely normal for you.

[ that, or helen's merely good at stating facts confidently.

she says it with a smile, one that feels incredulous as she begins to process the possibility that while she hasn't walked through a wardrobe, she's ended up in narnia all the same. ]

Shared dreamstates are something I have had some experience with. A new plane of existence? Well, that would be exciting - and a tad disorientating.

You don't seem to question the validity of each possibility either. I presume they're something of a normal happenstance for you as well?

[ she weighs up whether or not she should tell the truth, and the realises that, as always, there's something to be found in honesty. ]

Kind of. Some people I know are capable of manipulating dreams to the point where they feel like the only thing that's real. But I don't know how to prove if we're asleep.

[ her hand reaches up to brush against her shoulder. she's never known how to disprove a dream unless she's wearing vervain, which her body sorely lacks. ]

[ helen pauses and gives a nod. abnormals are here even within this town. that's an odd comfort - a small piece of normality. ]

It would seem the unknown side of nature exists even in a town like this. [ she stops and finally offers her hand. ] Dr. Helen Magnus. It's a pleasure.

[ dr, huh? it's impressive to think this town somehow managed to recruit a doctor and she happened to stumble upon said doctor. elena smiles. ] Elena Gilbert.

[ doppelgänger, not-even-a-high-school-graduate, ex-cheerleader. none of that seems impressive against doctor. but it makes her a little excited, considering her father was one. ]

What are you a doctor in, if you don't mind me asking?

Elena. It's a lovely name.

[ she does mean that. she gives a firm but gentle handshake, her eyes turning back to the books. ]

Medical Doctor, with several other doctorates to follow.

[ elena blushes, smiling and ducking her head for a moment.

she arches her brow, greatly amused and very impressed. ] Several others? My father was a doctor. I think he just had one doctorate... [ her brows furrow. she knows he had one. grayson hardly seemed to have time to go and study with her and then jeremy around the house. it makes her feel a little sad to think she can't ask him.

but she laughs, and carries on. ] How many is several? Just how addicted to studying are you?

I've had quite the time to collect them. [ she sends a bit of a smirk. ] Well, if you must know. Teratology, Cryptozology, Xenobiology, and Biology.

As well as a few dozen languages. My organization is world wide, and thus, requires that I can speak with many different kinds of people.

[ elena looks surprised and impressed, although her expression breaks into a furrowed brow as she tries to recall if any of them—aside from biology—sounds familiar. ]

What kind of organisation do you work for?

[ she laughs, incredulous. the creepy little library with the incorrect books is no longer at the forefront of her mind. ]

I run it. [ she corrects lightly, and she can't help the pride that leaks into her voice at it. ] A place where people who aren't quite human can call home. Somewhere they can be safe and learn about who and what they are with no shame.

Like vampires?

[ it's out of her mouth before she can think better of it, and she presses her lips together and briefly (and as quickly as she can) tries to think of how she can cover that up. but if anyone's going to be accepting of vampires, it has to be the woman she's getting to know the ins and outs of who runs an organisation dedicated to helping them.

the best way to gauge someone's perception of something is to throw it at them, after all. ]

Sanguine Vampiris were exterminated centuries back in my world. But, there are remnants of their species.

[ she glances back up at elena with a smile. ]

Does that answer your question?

[ her brows furrow as she tries to recall if stefan ever told her about a classification of vampires, but her mind comes up blank. there's only originals, the human blood drinkers, and the ones who opt not to drink human blood. ]

Honestly? It only gives me more.

[ she cards her hand through her hair, shaking her head. ]

More interesting questions than these books, at least. [ she laughs sheepishly. ]

test drive — winter

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