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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 — 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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22degrees: (pic#12292392)

[personal profile] 22degrees 2021-01-03 12:36 am (UTC)(link)
"I'll just take your word for it. I have approximately 0% desire to try them. Just give me a regular peanut butter and jelly sandwich any day of the week, and I'll be 100% fine."

And, well, that assumes he has time to eat in between running here and there chasing leads, so he's well acquainted with that sort of lifestyle, even if he's not a doctor.

And he's just going to raise an eyebrow while Carter backs up into the shelf. "You know I'm not going to bite you, right?" Honestly. They might have just met, but the tense backing up is just- Weird.

"Yeah. Just woke up, and I have no idea where I am, how I got here, or what happened to the Library. Which I didn't mention at all." Odds are, the Library isn't in any danger from him just mentioning it, but why take the chance?
setthetone: (neutral - chart)

[personal profile] setthetone 2021-01-03 09:12 am (UTC)(link)
"I know," Carter huffs, but does he? Does he really? "I mean, I hope you don't. Please don't."

Look, his whole world has been turned upside down in these past 24 hours and it's a little hard to decide who and what to trust. But he feels a bit silly now that he's been called out and (cautiously) steps away from the shelf.

"The town is called Mathias. There's a few of us here but none of us are local. All of us have the same story, we just suddenly... showed up here from all over the world? I was in Chicago before but I've already met people from all over the US, Canada, Scotland... it's crazy."

And now there's you with his face which makes it even crazier.

"Which library was that?"
22degrees: (010)

[personal profile] 22degrees 2021-01-08 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
"I reserve biting for the most heinous of individuals, and from where I'm standing, you don't look particularly heinous." Or threatening, but he's not about to say that part out loud. He might be impatient and sometimes a little uncouth, but he's not that uncouth, is he? He likes to think he isn't, anyway.

"That is a very suspiciously convenient backstory. Not that I think you had anything to do with it, because you'd be a lot more nervous if you did and you were trying to deflect suspicion. Before I came here, I was in Portland, so that just confirms your theory that everyone here is from all over the place." But he does mean to confirm that for himself, because that's just what he does.

"The Library. It's- Well, the Metropolitan Public Library, to be exact." Except that's not the exact answer at all, but until he's figured out more about this man's intentions, he's not intending to divulge too much right away. But he can at least lay down a trail of breadcrumbs as a way of figuring that out. "What's the strangest thing you've ever heard? A story, a fact, anything that's so unbelievable, it has to be made up."
setthetone: (salt - tropical death)

[personal profile] setthetone 2021-01-08 09:03 am (UTC)(link)
"Isn't that one in New York?"

Carter frowns but hey, he's never been out in Portland, maybe they just named their own library the same way to give it a bit of a flair? There's more than one County General hospital out there, too, he's pretty sure. He looks Flynn up and down, then shrugs.

"Well, I'd say that everyone is supposed to have an exact doppelganger but looks like I better think of a new one, huh."

But fine, he'll play.

"I don't-- phew, I don't know, I hear lots of crazy stories at work. Um. How about the boogeyman handing out coupons in Lincoln Park?"
22degrees: (05)

[personal profile] 22degrees 2021-01-08 10:05 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, all right, yes, technically, that one is in New York. And it still is, but the Library is way more than that. It's complicated, okay?"

He's working up to it; it's not something that just gets blurted out, and to be honest, he shouldn't be talking about it at all, but if this guy is from the Serpent Brotherhood or the Deadly Scorpion League, or some other group named after a deadly thing, he sure doesn't fit the profile.

"Yeah, you probably should, considering the whole- Thing." It's weird for him too, but then again, his threshold for weird has a pretty high bar.

"And that's weird too, but what would you say if I told you there's a magical dimension called the Library that houses a whole lot of magical artifacts?"

This is the part where he sits back and watches to see the reaction. Either Carter will dismiss him as crazy, or- Well, he might actually just believe him. But he's not betting on that.
setthetone: (surprised - ummm)

[personal profile] setthetone 2021-01-09 10:12 am (UTC)(link)
"Complicated."

He nods slowly. Sure does sound complicated. And then Flynn's questions hangs in the air and Carter just gives him a bit of a look.

"Well, usually I'd ask the nurse for some haldol but given the fact that I teleported to a haunted village with a ghost bookstore to hold a conversation with an old... ish version of myself, I'm not sure which one of us would be in need of that."

There a pause.

"A Library, huh? What, like with an issue desk? Yes, hello, I'm looking for the Necronomicon, can I place a hold on it?"
22degrees: (pic#12292391)

[personal profile] 22degrees 2021-01-16 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes, complicated." He arches an eyebrow when Carter goes on about haldol and nurses and all the other jumble that follows, but weirdly enough? He gets it. They might be completely different people, but there's still some similarities between them.

"See, I can't just go up to a nurse and ask for haldol, but- when you add in the fact that I also teleported to a haunted village with a very strange ghostly bookstore, and also met a younger version of myself, I can't argue with the fact that maybe I need to take something, and I don't often say that."

Or, well, he never says that, but details.

"Actually, yes. Of course there's an issue desk, but the Necronomicon is actually stored in the Library. And technically, there's several books of the dead in the Library, because nearly every culture or cultural group had one. Placing a hold on it isn't- well, it's not exactly possible, but you could look at it, if you could find the entrance."

Was that a cryptic statement? Yes? Oh well.