villagememes | test drive

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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 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

i. into the endless

[ the first thing elijah becomes aware is that he's cold. he's very cold. when he opens his eyes, all he can see is thick covering of forest. he squints, trying to figure out where he is and what he's doing there. he can't recall being in or near a forest and it had been sticky hot in new orleans before.

so, what happened? it's the question that pings around his head as he finally gets to his feet. there's no one around as far as he can see and the only sounds that he can hear are the sounds of the wind and his own breathing.

this isn't right but he can't stay here so he starts walking, feeling the snow dampen the slacks of his suit.

he is really not dressed for this. ]

ii. the end approaches

[ he is coming.

elijah reads the three words over and over like repeating it in his head will tell him what it means, who 'he' is and what it has to do with him being here.

he stares and stares, hands in the pockets of his trousers and suit jacket open. it's a little worse from wear due to the trek in from the forest but he has nothing else to wear so it will have to do.

when someone appears, elijah's heart beats a little faster, hoping it's someone he knows. but when it's not, once the person is close enough, he asks: ]

Who is 'he'?

[ his voice is firm, authoritative, showing that he clearly expects an answer. ]

iii. wildcard

[ if you'd like to do something else, feel free to throw it my way. ]

[ It has not been the best day for Daisy Johnson. Or the best month, really. The hits just keep coming and all she can do is hang on and try to weather the storm.

If only it were that easy.

Huddling in her black coat and grey sweater, hands deep in her pockets, she can't seem to get warm even as she enters the strange dusty sanctuary that the Town Hall has become. She's spent more hours here sifting through boring municipal paperwork than she has in the room she'd claimed as her own at the boarding house. It feels a bit strange to find someone else there, and someone new at that, but then she's apparently been gone for a while... ]

Good question. [ That authoritative tone registers but doesn't have much effect; she's too used to being the one using it on others and he is not the one in charge. She focuses on the map that definitely hadn't been there before, frowning at the message. ] To which I do not have an answer...

Helpful.

[ though he wishes there would have been more to her answer than that, she is still one of the few people that he's seen so he takes an interest, mild as it might be right now.

the fact that he has been somehow taken away from his family and his home and deposited here without warning and without his knowledge is something that's rocking him and he is doing his level best to not show that.

he doesn't show weakness for anything, to anyone if he can help it. ]

Has this been here long? [ he points at the bulletin board though it's unclear if he means the board itself or the message. ]

[ Look, buddy, she's not the information desk. If she had the answers he's looking for, she'd share them.

Pulling her hands from her pockets, she rubs at her forehead with one. They're both wrapped in strips of fabric that cover her palms and wrists, disappearing up into her sleeves. There are yellow-brown bruises speckled across her fingers that have just about faded. ]

That's another answer I don't have. [ She sighs wearily and turns her attention back to the new guy, giving him a once-over with a critical eye. ] The super creepy map of doom wasn't here a few days ago. I just got back a few hours ago, though, so I can't say for sure when it showed up.

[ She's not excited about that fact. If anything, she sounds exhausted and resigned. ]

[ well, can you please direct him to the information desk so he can figure this place out and then promptly depart? ]

Got back?

[ elijah's eyes flick towards the door and then back to her. ever since his arrival, he hasn't been back out between trying to figure out what has happened to him, tracking down anyone that he might know and trying to quietly figure out the issue of food.

but it sounds like there are places to go even if she had just mentioned the map being...super creepy and associated with doom. ]

Got back from where? This place doesn't look very friendly and full of places to spend leisure time.

[ If she knew how to get out of this place, she'd have been gone weeks ago. ]

Apparently I disappeared for a few days. [ Her unease at even the idea of it is plain to see. She crosses her arms, shifts her stance, and straightens her spine, as if she's expecting to have to withstand another blow, emotional or physical. ] I don't remember it. Something happened here, the fog— I don't know what happened, exactly, but people died. And then they came back.

[ Turning, she leans against the bulletin board, not worried enough about the new message to not use it as a support. ] A lot of weird stuff has happened here. Friendly is definitely not a word I'd use to describe this place.

[ people died and they came back? it's not the first time he's heard of something like that happening but those that tend to die and return where he's from are vampires and they remember how they died.

most of them like to whine about it in great detail to the nearest person who will listen. newer vampires act like it's some ridiculous badge of honor. ]

You disappeared but you didn't die? You just...found your way back?

[ huh. ]

Do you think it's possible that this mysterious 'he' took you and killed the others?

[ the three words certainly held a note of doom and killing people would do a lot to drive a point home. ]

[ Daisy isn't a stranger to people dying and coming back either, but this... This was different. Not good different, either. ]

Your guess is as good as mine. I was outside and the fog came in, the next thing I know I'm across town at the edge of the woods. [ Her arms drop to her sides in some cross between a flail and an exasperated shrug. ] I don't think I died. Everyone who did remembers it, and they left a body behind. Which is weird even for my line of work.

[ She's used to weird. Weird is her normal. But everything in this eerie ghost town is really pushing her tolerance level to the extreme. ]

You sound as if you've been here for at least a little while.

[ which he takes to mean that people have woken up in similar ways as he did and they've found their way here. he doesn't know if that's a comfort or not. if he was alone, trying to figure this out would be more difficult but being around people poses it's own kind of danger all things considered. ]

Which I take to mean you are not a native to this town?

[ was anyone? were there any people unfortunate enough to call this their home? ]

Are there any permanent residents?

Not that we've seen. This place is a ghost town.

[ Possibly literally. They still haven't found a source for the creepy voices they heard in the night after the storm. It's one of an infinite number of things they just don't know about this place and it's really started to irk her. ]

A group of us just woke up here a few weeks ago. Most are here alone but some of us aren't.

[ The mechanics of who is here and from is a complicated mess that he's probably not prepared for. She's certainly not prepared to get into it, not after the day she's had. But speaking of him— ]

What about you? What's your story, fancy suit guy? [ Because he's sure as hell a new arrival in that weather-inappropriate wear. ]

Fancy suit guy? ( that's amusing, he's amused. mildly but still. he turns his attention away from the bulletin board and the message, hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers. )

Elijah. ( that was probably going to get his attention quicker than calling him fancy suit guy though he appreciates the attention to his clothing even if it feels a little worse for wear right now. )

I don't know if I have a story. I'm from New Orleans where it's warm.

( why's it so cold here? )

There's nothing I could tell that would do anything but bore you. ( the liar. ) Is that what happens here? People tell their stories in between disappearing into fogs?

elijah mikaelson — tvd/to

the end approaches—

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into the endless

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the end approaches!

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