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

[abrightboy]

“...What specifically did you want to know?” Malcolm asked from behind her.

[citharede]

Athena yelped, whirling around with the pen held high like it would do much if she tried to stab someone with it. It might! If she tried hard enough.

This guy, however, was much less intimidating than Negan. She glared, slowly lowering the pen and taking a few steps to the left to get out of his reach, just the same.

"That's like saying 'name every significant world event that happened in 1852. Before you ask I have no idea what the hell happened in 1852." She glanced back at the board. "Like... everything. How did we get here, for starters?"

Athena glares back at Malcolm again. "Unless you weren't got, in which case I might actually stab you with this pen."

[abrightboy]

“1852? Well, it was a leap year. The first public toilets in Britain opened. Uncle Tom’s Cabin was published. Smith and Wesson was founded. Napoleon the Third introduced a new constitution for the French Republic. Your question wasn’t any more specific,” he pointed out gesturing to the board. “There isn’t anyone here who wasn’t ‘got’. We don’t know how they brought us here or why. We’re working with the same amount of information on that problem as you are.”

[citharede]

Athena raised her eyebrows. “Damn friends, we have nerd.”

She smiled a bit when she said it, though.

“‘kay, specifics... How the fuck long have people been here?” Athena lifted her chin as she asked, determined not to show how much the question scared her.

[abrightboy]

“The first people arrived.... “ He paused to consider that. Yes, he figured out 1852 was a leap year without missing a beat and this he had to think about. “Almost 40 days ago. I arrived a week after they did. People arrive... on a regular basis but... some disappear, as well.”

[citharede]

Athena folded in on herself a little. Given the fact that she was 5'3", there wasn't a lot to fold. "More than a month? What do you mean disappear? Do people come looking for them?"

She knew that wasn't what he meant. She knew exactly what he meant. She had enough people on the street vanish from her life without a word or sign. It was her own private nightmare, being a sudden absence, becoming one of those cases either unreported or uninvestigated. Disappeared meant disappeared. "How do people show up and no one sees who dumps them here?"

[abrightboy]

"How do they refill the food? We don't know. But everyone wakes up in various places all over town. But if you make connections here, people will look for you if you disappear. If you've just gotten into trouble, they'll help but... there's no helping people who are just... gone."

[citharede]

A touch of the tension in her shoulders unraveled when he said they refilled the food. Not much, but a little. It had been one of the first things she thought of, after she wandered her way into Mathias. Enough of a first thought that she'd spent an hour raiding every canned and nonperishable item she could find from the General Store and squirreling them away in one of the empty houses.

"How the fuck can you tell if someone's in trouble or gone?" There was a sharp note of bitterness in her voice. She looked away. "People don't disappear. You just stop looking for them."

[abrightboy]

“How many hiding places do you think there are in this town?” he asked with quiet gravity. “How dare you question the lengths we’ve gone to to protect the people we care about? You don’t know us. You haven’t gone through what we’ve gone through.”

[citharede]

She crossed her arms and glared back at him, not an ounce of remorse in her eyes. "Look who's fucking talking. I have no fucking clue how many hiding places there are in this town, but I know there's a whole fucking forest for people to get lost in, and you don't get to say shit to me about not knowing what someone else has gone through."

[abrightboy]

“Well, you clearly know everything already. You don’t need any help from us,” Malcolm pointed out tersely, reaching past her to rip her note off the board, crumple it up and toss it onto the floor. “If you need anything... what am I saying? You won’t. You know everything already. What could you need?”

[citharede]

"I'm seventeen. I know jackshit. But don't stand there and scold me for not knowing what the fuck is going on in your life when I just fucking met you, you fucking hypocrite."

She pushed past him toward the door. "Fucking adults."

[abrightboy]

“You weren’t listening and you won’t learn what the dangers are here until you do. Or they eat you. Whichever comes first,” he told her back. “So put down your bravado shield and accept the answers you’re given as information that could save you. Bravado won’t protect you here. Or keep it and go it alone after you alienate all the willing help, but nobody lasts here without allies. Your choice.”

[citharede]

She pivoted, staring at him. "You seriously don't see how hypocritical it is to lay into me for not knowing--"

Athena hissed in a breath. "Do you know what NHI stands for?"

[abrightboy]

“It wasn’t the not knowing I was laying into you for,” he informed her. “This place isn’t like Out There. Nobody abandoned anyone and they sure as hell didn’t stop looking because they didn’t consider the missing person worth it.” Yes, he knew what it stood for. “So if you’re going to function here, there are some things you need to set aside from Out There. I was offended at your assumption that we let our friends just... what. Die somewhere? Because we didn’t feel like turning over enough rocks?” He stepped towards her. “A few days ago, some of us were forced to watch while the others were ripped to shreds by invisible monsters. There are no cops here to pick and choose who’s worthy of protection. There are no authorities. There’s only death and how much we can stick together to survive it. Do you understand me? We all have been through different stuff Out There. It doesn’t mean anything here. So to smugly suggest that we abandoned people who were only lost and could have been found is so offensive on the deepest level that I can only even keep talking to you because I know - with that attitude - we’re going to end up burying you sooner than later if I don’t. If you don’t believe me because you still think this place has to work like Out There and missing people were abandoned by the system, then go check out the row of fresh graves along the treeline, then come find me at 1306 Philips Drive. We have coffee and food. Nothing fancy, unless one of my roommates is cooking.”

This time he headed for the door.

“I’d be happy to tell you more about what you’ve gotten into when you’re ready to hear it. But don’t take too long.”

[citharede]

By the time he's finished, she's in tears, and pissed off about it. Frustrated. Hurt. And maybe a little bit guilty.

"I wasn't--" She scrubs her sleeve across her eyes, growling. "I was trying to explain, you absolute dick. People don't disappear, okay? Poof, gone? Fucking never, all right? You stop looking because you have to, then you stop hoping they'll come back, then you move the fuck on because that's the option. I told you, I don't know how many places people can disappear here! I don't know how hard you look! I wasn't fucking judging you for losing people, okay, because guess what, Mr White Male Protagonist, it's not always about you!"

She crosses her arms, hugging them against herself. Much, much quieter, she adds, "I'm sorry about your friends."

[abrightboy]

“And I was trying to explain - because you asked for an explanation - that whatever you know about what happens to people is Out There. People appear here, from nowhere. Like you just did. And sometimes they literally disappear to nowhere. Or sometimes the fog suffocates them or monsters rip them apart or the ground shakes. So I’m sorry about your friends in the vulnerable sector that disappeared with nobody to care about them, but that’s the farthest thing from your immediate problem. So. Can I get you someone less male or less white to explain it all to you in a less affronting package or do you want to talk about your options for survival?”

[citharede]

"'Vulnerable sector,'" she mumbles under her breath, with a slight scoff. She wipes her eyes again. "Spoken like someone who's definitely never been there. Before you get pissed off at me for saying so, tell me it's a fucking lie."

Athena rolls her eyes slightly, still frustrated with the fact that she's in tears. She doesn't look as sure of herself, though. She grips the back of her neck with both hands, slowly meeting his eyes.

"What'd you mean. Monsters. Invisible monsters, like..." It doesn't make sense, it doesn't make any sense with what she knows, but he said it himself. She's not in Kansas any more. "Like demons, or what?"

[abrightboy]

“You have no idea where I’ve been,” he told her matter of factly, sliding fidgety hands into his pockets. “We don’t know what the monsters were. We’ve learned what we can do to mitigate danger in this place. We learned the hard way.”

No, he didn’t dignify her sassy little question.

“Don’t go into the fog. Avoid going out after dark. Food regenerates in the homes, in the General Store and in the Grey Gull, which is down on the beach. You can take a room in the Boarding House or in any unoccupied home.”

[citharede]

She stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded, before throwing up her hands. “Okay! You’re right! I have no idea where you’ve been. But I know if you ever stayed in a squat or had a coven you wouldn’t call us the ‘vulnerable sector—‘” jazz hands “-like we’re some kind of bloodless demographic.”

Yes, the bratty teenager just used the phrase bloodless demographic. “Is that specific enough in its parameters for you, Webster, or should I keep working on it?”

She finally lets her hands fall. “And look, I know not everyone believes in demons, I get that, but—-they’re real, and you can believe me or not, but if you want to keep people here safe it might be good to think about them maybe being part of the problem.”

[abrightboy]

“Vulnerable is the opposite of bloodless.”

He canted his head a little. “I’m not discounting demons. We had some demon hunters here and most of them disappeared after that... incident. I just don’t know what they were. Nobody who saw them can describe them. Like they were... made of fog or smoke or mirrors.”

[citharede]

“Fucking Webster,” she mutters under her breath.

Then there’s a long, long pause, while she gives him another dumbfounded stare.

“Wait, what?”

Demon hunters?

[abrightboy]

He met her gaze, just looking at her.

“Which part?”

[citharede]

“That’s not—- Jeff never—- Demon hunters? Those exist?”

A pause.

“Also fuck you because the opposite of bloodless is bloody. The opposite of vulnerable is invulnerable.”

[abrightboy]

“And the vulnerable are always the first to be bloodied,” he pointed out. “A man named Winchester, his brother and an angel. If you meet a woman named Claire, she knows more about it than I do. She worked with them where they’re from.”