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.
Cole | Dragon Age Inquisition
We will die. [ It's said in a perfectly calm manner, like he's talking about the weather as he approaches the chasm. Cole is dressed in raggedy leathers, an obscenely wide hat covering his gaunt face from the snow. His hands press together, bare save for a cloth wrap but unbothered by the cold even as steady puffs of air are visible as he draws breath. He studies the large hole, looking down at it before his head cants up and over, lips pulled taught for the briefest of moments.
He can't feel anything. It bothers him. He senses only dread only fear, only hurt, only pain, but he's not sure who (or what) is causing it. The other side, perhaps? His hand cants to the side again, wringing his fingers. ]
I don't like it. It's loud, here. [ Cole's words are vague, meaning mired in whatever's twisting in his head. He can't quite figure out if he wants to go back on the path or not. ]
ii. Bodies without souls;
[ Cole knows why people like books, sort of--he knows they're stories, he knows they're a way to learn or escape, but he's never fully understood why. Varric likes stories and tells them to him, and Cole likes them, sure, but he still doesn't quite understand them. The book shop had seemed the most familiar thing in an unfamiliar village, where everything looks far different than anything he's seen before.
There's a small pile of tomes on the floor, proof that he's been rooting around, but currently he's hunched by the safe. He's a strange figure, average height but much too thin. Nimble hands work the dial, confusion on his hard to see face. ]
I can't get it open.
[ He doesn't know how. He normally knows how. That makes him feel something, something he can't quite understand. It's a frustrating gnawing at his stomach. ]
Why can't I get this to open?
iii. The End Approaches;
[ The grime and dust in the town hall don't bother him at all, staring at the piece of paper. 'He is coming,' it reads, and Cole blinks at it, bringing a hand up to touch the ink like it will mysteriously tell him something before he lowers his hand. He doesn't know who "he" is.
If "he's" coming, though, maybe Cole should wait.
Cole can't disappear like he used to, even if he can hide in the shadows well--but he doesn't try to. Instead, he sits on the reception desk by the bulletin board, tapping his heels and letting them clunk on the side of it. The first person who walks in will be met with Cole standing up, walking expectantly towards them, waiting, face obscured by the hair in his eyes and the wide brim of his hat. Staring. Expectant. ]
iv. wildcard;
[ Feel free to dm me or come up with your own scenario! Cole is from the end of the game but before the Trespasser DLC. ]
iii.
Uhh.
[That's certainly something. A stare. A hat. His eyes drift up to the brim, to the hair, taking in the stranger. He looks back over his shoulder, just to double check if he means him with all this... approaching. Apparently he does.]
Hi. Can I... help you?
no subject
Surely, this is the one? ]
You're "him." You're coming. [ Cole's voice is soft, British accent apparent. He nods to himself, a little too close to the other than he needs to be. ] You're here. [ To further his point, he extends his arm back to point at the bulletin board and the note, gaze not straying from the older man. ]
no subject
[His bewilderment and unease only grows stronger with the slouching and with Cole being really. Really, really close. And why is everyone in this town British? Maybe they aren't in America after all?
Carter blinks, hopelessly lost for a moment before his eyes follow the way he points. Over to the bulletin board with...]
Oh! Oh, no, nono, that's not-- that's not me, that was already there when I got here. I mean, yes, I am here and I came here, obviously, but...
[He sticks up his index fingers and wiggles both his arms no.]
I never felt the need to announce my arrival in blood in my life.
no subject
He plucks the note from the board. ]
Are you waiting, too? [ It's an earnest question--he looks over at the other for a few moments. ] I don't understand. Here, waking up, not where I was.
no subject
[Carter relaxes when he can reclaim some personal space. He also recognizes the confusion of not knowing where you are or why.]
The same thing happened to me. To all of us, actually, there are more of us. I woke up here a few days ago, same as you.
no subject
You have a name.
[ Right. Hee's supposed to tell the other his name, too, isn't he? Cole forgets these things, a lot of the time. He wonders if this is the part where he shakes hands, too. He's seen people do that before. ]
I am Cole. It's very loud here, but I can't hear words, or things, just noise.
no subject
[And Cole is right about that because he sticks out his hand in greeting, an almost automatic response.]
What do you mean, it's loud?
Ii-bodies without souls
It’s... boring. In the creepiest kind of way.
It’s hard not to notice Cole, though. The slow shuffle, the talking to himself, which... fair, is also something Quentin used to. So maybe that’s why he tracks him down at the back of the book store, leaning against the door frame.]
Probably because it’s s locked?
:eyes emoji:
He doesn't jump, though. Instead, Cole turns his head towards him just a sliver before his attention focuses back on the safe. ]
I can open things that are locked. Secrets, parchments, stories--this is a knob. [ And he looks fully at the other with the floppy hair, the one who's reading. ] Can you open it?
I am sooooo sorry!
[Like a key or a map, some kind of starting point to all of this -whatever this turns out to be. But nothing had opened it so far - no spell, no amount of kicking it in frustration. Nothing.]
If I didn't think there might be papers inside, I would set it on fire.
the end approaches
What she is absolutely not expecting for any reason, though, is some guy to come and get in her face? This isn't normal, and she immediately backs away. She's not easy to intimidate, but she's not very trusting of strangers these days. Still, he doesn't do anything that's exactly threatening. ]
Whoa, hey, chill out. Do you...need something?
no subject
[ It's a question, curious, as Cole is wondering why he has to 'chill out.' He's not particularly cold, but he's not warm enough to be told to cool down, though this girl talks like Varric and his strange way of phrasing things. Is that what this is? Does his temperature have anything to do with this conversation?
He's not moving from where he is, looking expectantly at the other for a brief moment before looking back at the bulletin board. ]
It says he is coming.
no subject
[ What the hell? But Cole looks behind him. Okay, right, the message on the board. This guy seems totally earnest, like he really thinks she might be whoever that board is talking about. Well, this is intensely weird, even for Mathias. ]
No, of course I'm not. Uh...no one actually knows who or what that note on the board is about.
i. Into the Endless
He watches Cole closely, something in his gut twisting, warning him that Cole shouldn't get too close to the edge. It's not safe, even if the other is a spirit, he can still die, again. He's more human now, isn't he? He doesn't want his friend to be hurt.
Something snaps him to action, a slight shift of the ground under the other's feet and he'll close the gap between them to twist his fingers into the edge of his clothing. He even drops the torch into the snow, it fizzles out with a hiss. He'll pull the other back to solid ground, closer to him, protectively. Dorian isn't really known to be an affectionate man, but he cares for Cole like he's family. They've been through a lot together, after all.]
Careful there, Cole. You nearly took a dive over the edge. [ though to be fair he's doubting his fear now, it doesn't look like much of the ground has moved where the other once stood, complaining about the noise. Is this endless cold, dreary, uncomfortable dread driving him mad? Maybe not mad but definitely on edge.]
Lets head back the other way, I think I saw buildings through the fog.
[He'll stoop to pick up the bit of wood and brush the snow off of it with stinging, almost numb fingers. He waves his hand and flames lick up the tip again to cast off some warmth and light the way.]
no subject
It's good Dorian's here, Cole thinks. He's not alone. Dorian is a friend, Cole has discovered--Dorian is like family, or what he imagines a family is supposed to be. Even as the other holds away from the chasm, there's a strange part of Cole that's desperate to climb back over, to go to the other side. Maybe that will block everything out, that strange feeling of dread. ]
Thank you. [ It's genuine, as Cole glances over to where Dorian's mentioned, and then over at his friend. A thought occurs to him as he starts moving, face hidden beneath unkempt bangs. ]
You should be freezing.
no subject
He starts back along their footprints in the snow and quirks a brow at his companion.]
I am, this little torch can only do so much and I think I'm losing feeling in my extremities. Are there icicles on my mustache yet?
[ He just wouldn't be Dorian if he didn't fuss a little at his less than ideal surroundings. But to be fair it's not as if they can do much about it. They didn't exactly come prepared to be thrown into an alien landscape covered in snow. Usually the grunts brought a camp for them to cozy up by a fire and sleep in a tent to wait out the storm. None of those around for miles.]
What about you Cole? Do you even feel the cold?