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

That is certainly one way of looking at it.

[ She shakes her head. ] The most I have heard is that people arrived on the beach. I'd presume that direct local area.

Mmm. [ Will makes the noise to show that he heard her before he takes a couple of steps away from Helen. He doesn't go far, merely changing his point of view as his eyes sweep the structures in the area. ]

Do you know what building was the first to become available?

[ She turns to face him, hands folded in front of her, watching and listening. ]

That is something I've had yet to be shared with me. They seem to be more concerned with the new ones to find rather than the old ones. For now, anyways.

Unsurprising. [ He agreed. It was a natural human response, to strive towards discovery from ahead rather than behind.

Determining that he had probably taken that specific line of questioning as far as he could, for the time being, Will settled his attention back on her. ]

Do you find yourself busy? Putting people back together?

Here? Not so much yet. Which, on one hand, is a good sign. I'd hate to have to figure out how to do a surgery here and worry about fighting off a staff infection.

[ Which means that it may have crossed her mind once or twice already. There's only so much one can do here in a situation like this. Limited supplies, even further limited medical ones. ]

What was it that you did? Before you found yourself here.

I was retired. [ The words came automatically to his lips. For three years he had repeated them in circumstances like this. Well not this but when he'd been asked. Usually it was a cue for Molly to step in and redirect the conversation.

Only Molly wasn't here and Helen hadn't given him any reason to be a prick so Will glanced down at his feet, then up and somewhere over her shoulder, towards the wall. ]

I taught forensic psychology at Quantico. Occasionally I was consulted on cases.

Hm. I seem to have a habit of finding the forensic ones. [ She gives a nod, not pressing further into the comments that he's made. There's a feeling he'd rather not share some details. Understandable, given the things that one must see. ]

This is certainly one hell of a retirement spot.

My condolences. [ His response, though deadpan carried a hint of humor. He was well aware that 'forensic ones' were a unique breed and not for everybody.]

You say that as if any of us had a choice in the matter. I expect you have somewhere else you'd rather be?

Far from it. One of my dearest friends is considered the man who made the way for such a science. [ There's a fondness in her tone. There's no reason to apologize, regardless of how humorous it is meant to be. ]

Oh, of course. I'm sure we wall do. Still, some tend to look for a silver lining. It seems that's an element lacking in the town.

You knew John B. Watson? [ He might have been looking at her appearance with question, she definitely did not appear old enough, but he was also openly curious.

Will considered making a comment about silver linings being the purview of those who believed in hope. But he was more interested in the idea that she was a friend of Watson. ]

More specifically, I knew the man that brought forensic science in England to a forefront with the police department. Fare more of the science angle than the psychological one, I'm afraid. Although it was probably a very different person in your reality.

[ a small shrug. ] He passed away a few years ago.

[ Though it may have been considered the socially appropriate thing to speak to the initial information, there was something about the shrug that boiled Will's response down to, ] I'm sorry for your loss.

test drive — winter

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