The Village Mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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villagememes2020-11-19 10:10 pm
villagemod) wrote in villagememes2020-11-19 10:10 pm
Entry tags:
test drive — 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: ♫ )
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 wordshe 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.
i.
He hears another voice and his attention is snapped toward the sound of it. First sign of anyone he's found all morning, holy shit, yes! Maybe together, they can find the stupid town again. "Hey! Yeah, I'm here." He stumbles toward where the woman is with a wave.
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Helen raises a hand to peer through the snow at the man stumbling into view. She tilts her head slightly before giving a friendly wave. Friendlier is better than anything else at the moment.
"Someone else brave enough to weather the storm, I see!"
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He laughs a little and finally reaches her a few moments later. "I got turned around somehow, and lost the path back to town. Did you just get here?" Probably, because this place is small enough that almost everyone is at the very least a familiar face in passing.
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"Really? There was no forecast, no sign of potential snow at all?"
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He hadn't actually thought of it like that before, truth be told. He's had so many things flung at him in the incredibly short time he's been here, it's just been a matter of dealing with the next thing that was coming, before he had time to even process the first ones.
That might be his least favorite part of everything, actually. Just how fast it all happens. His life has always been a little bit like that, in varying degrees, so it's a cold familiarity, but not something he can be bothered to find anything like comfort in.
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"No, it rather seems they would prefer us to me trapped in a time bubble. VHS. Better than black and white tv, I suppose." Helen smiles a bit at that. "So. We find ourselves in a small New England like town with no communications in, and presumably no communications out. Everything is dated... and the tiniest of details are just slightly off from our recollection. Have I missed anything?"
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"Yeah," he nods a bit. "you got it." They're making headway into the town. "I don't know if it's better or worse if you find people you know here... my brother's here-- did I say that already?" Maybe. Whatever. "and it's kind of a double-edged sword, y'know? I'm glad I've got someone familiar around, but... I feel bad about it, because it's kind of awful here?"
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There is a frown on her face. It is quite the question to have. Then again, she has pushed people away for so long that sometimes those she loves are strangers.
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He hums thoughtfully. "You know, until recently... my own siblings were more strangers than anything." He frowns a little at that. "We, um... we were estranged for over a decade. It's...complicated." Which is the easiest way to put it, really.
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"Most families end up that way. At least, from that I have seen in other's experiences." Helen shrugs slightly against the wind. Her own family and ...well. Best not to dwell on it for now.
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