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The Village Mod ([personal profile] villagemod) wrote in [community profile] villagememes2020-11-19 10:10 pm
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test drive β€” winter



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: β™« )





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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dramaquinn: (alice50)

[personal profile] dramaquinn 2020-11-22 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ The smell does want its way over. It reminds her of Quentin, and it hurts because she's failed him by giving up the page. He wouldn't have wanted Kady to die for the page to stay safe, but it still feels like betrayal on Alice's parr. He would've found a way to keep both Kady and the page safe.

But it's too late now.

She's doing well enough with the math. And maybe some of the terms in the equation for warped somehow, because she's pretty sure she'll be able to solve it in another minute or two.

If only she could breathe fresher air, so she could more easily ignore her regret. ]


Do you mind? The smell is bothering me.

[ She doesn't even look up. ]

I'm almost done, if this is your smoking spot.
hellblaze: <lj user="synthnights">. (crew πŸ”₯ another day comes crashing in.)

[personal profile] hellblaze 2020-11-22 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
Everywhere is my smoking spot. Even the places they tell you not to.

[ Punk, fuck the rules, ect.

John raises his eyebrows at the back of her head, taking another long drag off the cigarette. Not that he plans on finishing it just to make her a bit happier. It just calms the nerves. ]


Find anything useful?
dramaquinn: (alice22)

[personal profile] dramaquinn 2020-11-22 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
Fair enough. Not like there are no-smoking laws here.

[ Or at least, there's no one to enforce them if they were on the books.

Alice keeps scribbling numbers and parentheses and all the rest, pausing only occasionally to glance up the page to check the flow of her work. ]


Not really. I'm not sure solving this will do anything but make me feel like I've actually been productive, but I'll take it.

[ It's not that she's bored in this strange new town in a strange new dimension or world, with its weird bookshops and ghost town feel and overall creepy atmosphere. It's that she's frustrated because she hasn't found a single solid clue as to what's going on. ]

Why, got something to offer?
hellblaze: <lj user="synthnights">. (sit πŸ”₯ i'm only gonna do you wrong.)

[personal profile] hellblaze 2020-11-22 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
[ He enters the room properly, walking around her to take a seat at the receptionist desk. His feet kick up to rest on it, leaning back in the dusty old chair. His eyes go to the paper she's working at. Hm. Quentin's scribbles seem to be paying off. ]

Plenty of information, but, maybe not in the direction you're looking for. Tell me - do you understand any of that?
dramaquinn: (unexpected cigarette)

[personal profile] dramaquinn 2020-11-22 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Well, now she has a face to a voice. There's a moment where she wishes Bax were here, because at least he'd help herβ€” but it's a very brief moment, followed by remembering that Bax is also annoying. ]

Who says I'm only looking for information about one thing?

[ She spares him a glance. It comes off condescending. Alice tends to be off-putting when she's... actually, just most of the time. ]

I understand the math. I just don't think it'll actually be helpful. [ A moment of just the scratch of pen against paper, and thenβ€” ] I just need something to do.

[ And because she's a huge nerd, math fits the bill. ]
hellblaze: <lj user="synthnights">. (talk πŸ”₯ i'd taken for granted.)

[personal profile] hellblaze 2020-11-24 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
Fair enough. [ He leans back in the chair and nods back to her scribbles. ]

If you can read the equations and solve them, can you tell what they're for?