test drive — winter

[villagemod]

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: ♫ )

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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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Comments

The End Approaches

[conning]

You could be a Jeopardy contestant. [ Sorry Alec. Neal is feeling a little cross at the moment. He's been here long enough to replace his chic New York wardrobe with a baggy sweater and slightly too-long jeans, and even three pairs of socks one on top of the other don't keep his feet from sliding around in the boots he scavenged from one of the houses.

It's very, very creepy to pull together a mismatching wardrobe from the clothes of people who randomly disappeared. Neal eyes the other man for a moment. ]

No clue, see previous, see previous. As far as I've gathered, no one has any idea what's going on.

[fourninefour]

[Alec turns to the other man with an arch of an eyebrow, eyeing his wardrobe with obvious amusement.] I suppose I could, if I knew what Jeopardy was. You going for grandpa chic there? You're kind of too old to pull off the surly teenager look.

[Not that he's dressed any more stylishly, what with his slightly too large jeans, crappy jacket over a turtleneck and some kind of ugly ass vest he found, and his boots, which pinch his toes. But the day is young, and it's not a day that ends in 'y' if Alec doesn't make some kind of remark that may or may not get him punched in the face.]

Cool. So we're all just...stuck here, no one with any idea what's going. Awesome. That always bodes so well.

[conning]

[ A flat look. ] I prefer grandpa chic to freezing my literal limbs off. Not as dramatic a statement, maybe, but more serviceable in the long run.

[ He stops in front of the map, glaring up at it. ]

So far as I've been able to gather--yeah. Apparently the first of the very confused arrivals got here about three weeks ago and have been 'trickling in' since.

[ He knocks on the bulletin board. ] So far I've met a mercenary, a violent crimes consultant to the police, a very testy PI, and been told about the existence of a US Marshal somewhere within these humble walls. I'm sensing a theme and not particularly liking it.

[ Neal looks over at Alec, appraising him. ] Neal Caffrey. You?

[fourninefour]

[Alec shrugs, though, admittedly, he has to concede that the stranger raises a valid point. Even with his enhanced genetics, Alec isn't exactly immune to the extreme temperatures, loathe though he is to own up to that particular fact.

Huh. Well that's interesting, Alec thinks. The first people showed up three weeks ago, and everyone else has been trickling in ever since.

And then the man starts listing off all of the different people he's met, and Alec visibly tenses, his shoulders straightening and his mouth narrowing. Without thinking, he moves to adjust his turtleneck and the scarf he wears, making sure they fully cover his neck and the barcode on it.]

Why so much law enforcement in one place? That seems more than a little overkill. Are they trying to turn this village into a police state?

[And here Alec thought the only things he had to worry about were the cold and the disappearances. Shit.

He considers the man, Neal, apparently, and nods. Whoever he is, he seems to have an interest in taking note of law enforcement, which Alec finds at least mildly reassuring.] Alec. I take it you just recently arrived yourself?

[conning]

[ Neal catches those tells, Alec's discomfort at the presence of the law. It makes him feel better. A little. At the very least it makes him curious. ]

Very. Recently enough that I haven't slept yet, unless you count the nap I woke up from in the forest. And I'm guessing, based on the questions about the Our Friend the Law, that you're new too.

[ He rubs his face. It's easy enough to fall into this, to try and make his sidelong way into someone's good graces by appealing to their dislike of law enforcement. ] One thing's for sure. Whoever brought us here is really not afraid of drawing the wrath of federal and state governments.

[fourninefour]

[Alec snorts at that, 'Our Friend the Law,' indeed. Well, hopefully none of those law enforcement agents are from Manticore, or with White and his fun group of friends. Otherwise, he's deeply screwed, even without this weird, haunted town and this disturbing message board.]

Yeah, just recently strolled into town myself. I'm guessing we took the same nap.

[He shakes his head, glancing up, down, and behind for any potential for signs of law enforcement.]

I don't know whether to be impressed by how brassy that is, or the sheer stupidity of it all. Hey, by the way, any of these law enforcement types, were any of them named White, by any chance?

[He fishes because he needs to know; he needs to get an understanding as to whether he should stay in town or take his chances in the damn woods.]

[conning]

Didn't get the marshal's name, the consultant is named Malcolm Bright, PI goes by Sherlock. Merc goes by the name Rodriguez, though who knows if that's true or not. [ He shakes his head. ] No White. That I've met at least. He your... particular pain in the ass?

[fourninefour]

Yeah, my 'particular pain in the ass' just about sums White up. You would know him if you met him, even if he didn't introduce himself. He's the biggest asshole in the room, wherever he goes.

[And, yeah, obviously, Alec's biased; comes with the territory of trying to outrun some hellbent asshole trying to kill you and yours. But, generally speaking, even outside of his vendetta against transgenics, White is just an overall unpleasant human being. (The 'human' part is debatable, of course.)]

What about you? You've got your own particular asshole to worry about showing up here, or?

[conning]

[ Keller and Adler jump immediately to mind. The first, a brilliant sociopath who's more than willing to kill to get what he wants--one of the things he wants being Neal, dead--and... well. The second, a brilliant sociopath who's more than willing to kill to get what he wants--one of the things he wants being Neal, recruited to his side. Neal's lips twitch into a brief, ironic smile. He really needs to keep better company. ]

Several. [ He shakes his head. ] And plenty that it would be incredibly reassuring to see, but I also don't want them stuck in a Silent Hill knockoff.

[fourninefour]

[Alec grins at that, even further inclined to like this dude. Anyone who seems to distrust the law and has several particular pains in the ass after him has the potential to be good people, and Alec appreciates Neal's company the more for it.]

Damn, I'm slacking. You've got a whole collection, huh?

[He tilts his head at the mention of Silent Hill, unsure what that might be referring to. Even now, his knowledge of pop culture is extremely limited; he still doesn't know the difference between Star Trek and Star Wars.]

[conning]

[ Unfortunately, Neal is a pop culture reference addict. Which makes my fourth wall life hard. ] A man can't be too careful in his choice of enemies.

[ A crooked smile. ] Of course, that means more potential angles of attack, but such is life.

[fourninefour]

Probably not, but that just keeps the man on his toes, in my experience. [Alec says, as if he's actually chosen his own enemies instead of, say, picking them up along the way and/or antagonizing them into especially despising him and wanting him dead.

Alec just grins right back.] Keeps life interesting. Wouldn't want to get too complacent, right?