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.
no subject
[ It's a bad joke, but Chas goes with it anyway, because bad humor is kind of his thing sometimes. ]
Looks like an ordinary building to me, but I haven't exactly looked at the whole thing.
[ Yet. He gives it another good scan while he tries processing things. But then John elbows him, and he just gives his friend a look. ]
Yeah, I was taking my time getting into a new hobby: having cars thrown at me by an evil spirit. Want to know what that feels like?
[ He just makes a fist, in case John isn't getting what he means. It's just a little friendly ribbing, of course. ]
no subject
[ Joke is on Chas, there are no cars in Mathias. Odd, innit? No cars, no animals, nothing but the creepy atmosphere and that feeling that something is just beyond reach. He's not sure if Chas has picked up on that bit yet or not. ]
Wait till you see the tunnel.
[ That tunnel that he and Coulson found. Bit of a drop though, so, they'll have to revisit that once they find a ladder. Or a rope. Or a levitate spell.
Suddenly, that car joke about Monopoly is oddly fitting. ]
Well, if we're going to start this by tallying things evil spirits do? I found myself choked out by a fresh breeze of fucking fog.
no subject
Only problem is, there's no attractions, just that same disconcerting feeling and atmosphere that John noted. ]
Tunnel, huh? What, did you come here and suddenly take up mining? I can't even begin to picture it. What'd you do with your hard hat?
[ More bad humor, but it feels right in some strange way. ]
We weren't, but what else do we have to do around here?
[ And yes, that is totally an opening for corralling Chas into town demolition, AKA making offices connect, which he totally knows about. ]
What'd you do? Piss off the fog? Must've been really dedicated to choke you out.
[ What was that about bad humor? ]
no subject
[ Very, very rude. What sort of best mate is he, eh? Presuming John Constantine would pick up mining. Being from Liverpool means nothing! ]
Demolition has become a bit of a hobby.
[ His tone turns serious at that comment. Especially before he looks up at Chas with a bit of a frown. Oh, it's easy for Chas to die and come back. That's been a sealed deal for a while. But, him? John isn't supposed to be the one that dies. He's not sure how the big old soft teddy bear himself would take the news. ]
When don't I piss off someone?
no subject
And by 'went to work', you mean you went digging for the first weird thing you could find and got yourself stuck in it.
[ For someone who puts on an attitude of not really caring and of keeping people at arm's length (for their own good, most of the time), John sure does care a lot.
But Chas is used to it, so he just shrugs and gets right to the heart of the matter. ]
So how can I help with this hobby?
[ Driving the cab isn't going to be much use here, so that just means it's time he diversified his interests. But then his smile drops off when John's tone takes that turn, and he eyes his old friend with a halfway worried look. ]
Knowing you? Never, but that's not the point. [ It's half a point, but details. ] You all right?
[ Big old soft teddy bear indeed. ]
no subject
[ He pulls the cigarette out from his mouth and puffs smoke out of the corner of his mouth. He tilts his head back with a long sigh. He can feel that piercing questioning gaze coming from Chas. It's not unusual.
John doesn't meet his gaze. ]
Pick a building or a house and start ripping it to shreds. [ A pause. ] Never been better.
no subject
[ Chas isn't sure which one he'd have preferred: arriving like John did, or finding himself in a snowed-in forest. ]
I'm going to need a good jackhammer. [ He's still looking at John, as if trying to decipher how much of that is true and how much of it is a brush-off. In the end, he decides that John will tell him when he's ready and not one second before. ]
So, what's so great about demolition?
no subject
[ Because he could entirely go off a cliff if there is a good enough reason. Or, if he isn't in the right mindset, and he flings himself off it for whatever reason. Still! At least Chas is holding up well and adjusting to the nonsensical part of the town. ]
Good luck finding one. We've just got the basic tools in toolkits here. [ Brush-off, 100%. ] You know the old saying of walls have secrets, yeah? Skeletons in the closet.
no subject
[ And that's putting it lightly. And for what it's worth, Chas hopes John doesn't fling himself off any cliffs anytime soon. ]
Yeah? What about an axe, then? Oh, let me guess, not basic enough.
[ He's back to rolling his eyes, and not with fondness this time. ]
This place has secrets? Skeletons? I never would have guessed.
[ Chas deadpans then, because really, everything about this place just screams secrets, skeletons, and mysteries. ]
You uncover any of them yet?
no subject
[ He turns and sits down on the desk that is in front of the bulletin board. His eyes stay on it, swaying to the pulled off board to the side, before looking back at the arrange of notes. ]
Tunnel underneath Town Hall... and those symbols are everywhere in town.
no subject
[ And then he sobers up, because there's something big going on here, even if he doesn't really know what it is yet. ]
Sounds like it might be something worth following then. Unless you've already followed it and the trail's gone cold.
[ He eyes the pulled off board curiously before moving closer to get a better look. ] These symbols, though. You're the big languages guy. Have you seen anything like them before?
no subject
[ Which is to say he appreciates it - even missed it. His eyebrows raise, but he keeps decently straight face for a moment. Then, the cracks show. The smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. ]
Haven't managed to get down inside the tunnel just yet. It's a fair drop down below. We'd need a ladder or rope to get on down, and, well, true to my profession? Other shite keeps popping up.
Can't say I have. Swirls can be used to focus energy to a point or make it twist out of control. I've taken to calling it Spooky Scribbles.
no subject
[ Because he saw the way the corners of his lips turned up. Can't fool him. ]
Sounds about right, but depending on how big a fall it is, what if you just send me down with a rope? Tie it to something up top while I go down, so you can follow.
[ Of course, there's some variables there like if Chas's remaining souls still function in this weirdo town. ]
What kind of other shite are we talking? [ The bit about Spooky Scribbles goes a bit over his head, but he gets the gist of it. He has a follow-up question about them, though: ] And do these scribbles do anything in particular?