test drive — spring

[villagemod]

SPRING 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.

Prospective players are welcome to play with any of the established locations within Mathias.

( Recommended listening: ♫ )

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GHOSTS OF THE LIVING
The fog moves in quickly and without warning, not from the waterfront but the forest, cascading through every street in a thick wave of white. It is not a soft blanket enveloping the town, but a heavy weight pressing down, threatening to suffocate as the sky is blotted out and no one can see more than ten feet in any direction.

Those who are outside when it rolls in are left wandering blind, hoping that a randomly chosen direction will lead them to shelter or another living soul. There are perhaps even those who were lucky enough to already be inside when the fog descended, quickly closing doors and windows to keep it from creeping in. Wherever they are, the residents of Mathias will soon notice that they are not the only ones in the fog.

Anyone out in the fog is left disoriented, possibly losing their sense of time and place, and it is only after prolonged exposure that they will begin to feel off. A sense of being ill will cling to them if they are in the fog for too long, including dizziness, lightheadedness, or nausea — the time it takes to manifest varies from person to person, as does the duration it will last after leaving the fog.

With all of these elements at play, the first strange apparitions encountered may be assumed to be figments of addled minds, tricks played by psyches struggling to cope with the strange reality they've found themselves in. But before long, there will be no denying that the Others in the fog are real. Appearing almost wraithlike and startlingly recognizable, these figures even feel a bit like ghosts to those who can sense such things, though everyone will feel that there is something wrong about them. Truly, there are many things wrong that residents will begin to notice as they encounter more and more of the spectres that do not acknowledge their presence in any way. They simply exist, silent and subtly terrifying like so many things in this town.

Like misty ghosts of those who have been in the town at one point or another, the Others appear as those who have died or disappeared and even those currently within the town. The likeness is truly uncanny, to the point of being completely terrifying, made even more so when they realize there is no way to communicate with the Others. They do not acknowledge anyone's presence nor anything said to them. At times, they may be only one in an area, or there may be a dozen existing in the same space. There is no limit to how many people can see them — if they are there, they are seen by all.

The Others do not enter buildings and cannot be contained in any way. They can appear at one moment and be gone in the next, or they can exist in one place for hours on end. Whether standing stationary or slowly wandering throughout the town, there is no discernible purpose to them. There is something absent and distant in the way they hold themselves, the way they walk, and their expressions, as if even they cannot grasp what is happening.

A BIT OF EXPLORATION
There are plenty of places in which to get one's bearings and hide from the fog.

There are businesses on the square, nestled around and extending out from the Town Hall. There is a schoolhouse nestled by the southern treeline, not from the rather expansive makeshift cemetery at the end of Jackson Boulevard that is courtesy of a few kind residents in town. To the far north of the square is a sprawling garden, now covered in snow, and a greenhouse that once supplied the botanical shop. And to the east and west, beyond the business square, is are residential districts.

The eastern district sprawls all the way to the beach, with some houses in perfect condition and others beginning to show significant signs of age. The western district, however, is nothing but decay. From the beginnings of rot to completely collapsed and little more than a pile of proverbial bones, none of these homes are anything resembling livable. Well, as far as one can tell, at least. For between the streets of Hill Lane and Stine Road there is a crack in the earth. A dozen feet across and fifty feet down, there is no way across.

TO SEE AND BE SEEN
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. Covering the board are tacked-on 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 painted directly across the center of the board, visible in the gaps between the pieces of paper, is a symbol in dark red. While peering at that obscured symbol, a strange breeze ruffles the papers, revealing a little more, just enough to—

An eye. A strange, ornate eye with three lobes, painted in still-wet red. And upon close examination, a keen eye will realize that the paint is actually blood, perhaps even human.

The longer someone stands there, the more it will feel like they are being watched, even studied, with great interest. It's a sensation that lingers and stays with them even when they exit the building.

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Comments

exploration

[myfavoritemurder]

[Callisto has already investigated the popcorn, rolling a popped kernel between her fingers, giving it a sniff and wrinkling her nose at the rancid butter smell; no, thank you, she's not that hungry, either. When Parker walks in, she's doing nothing but sitting on the floor between two seat rows, leaning her back against the wall and staring blankly up at the ceiling - so really, she has no reason not to hop up and investigate.

She joins Parker in the projector room, leaning over the machine without preamble, poking at it even more ineffectively and aimlessly.]

What is it?

[She asks, attempting to spin one of the spools as if it were a wheel. The way she says the words - carefully and accented - hints that the language she's speaking is not the language she's used to. There's not much chance of her understanding a full explanation, either, but so far that hasn't stopped her from trying to talk to people.]

[sharker]

[ She'd seen the woman during her investigation of the theater below, but with the way she'd been sitting motionless on the floor, staring at nothing...well, frankly, Parker had assumed she was dead.

Now she eyes her suspiciously, trying to decide which is more likely: that she isn't dead after all, or that she's one of the ghosts from outside. This one's actually looking at her and talking to her, though, so...let's go with alive, for now.

Alive, foreign. Or pretending to be foreign, like Sophie. And not threatening her or offering her help she never asked for. Fine. Parker can be friendly. Ish. ]

It's a movie projector.

[ She holds up the film reel she'd been inspecting, as if that will help explain anything. It doesn't hurt that it's a solid weapon, if the woman turns out to be a threat after all. ]

An old one, though. I don't know how it works.

[myfavoritemurder]

[Callisto gets roughly a quarter of that, but to be fair, that's not all on the language barrier: even if she understood all the words, she still has no idea what a photograph is, let alone a movie. She gives the spool one more spin, then reaches out to try to snatch the film reel from Parker's hand.]

[sharker]

[ This is what she gets for trying to be nice.

She bactracks the second Callisto reaches for the reel, pulling it to her chest with an offended, outraged look. No one steals from her. Who does she think she is? ]

Hey!

[ She glares, still clutching the film reel, which she probably would have tossed aside and totally forgotten about by now if Calliso hadn't tried to take it from her. ]

What are you doing? That's mine.

[myfavoritemurder]

[Callisto is, to put it mildly, unpredictable, and there are times when someone pulling a move like that on her would get outrage right back, regardless of the fact that she was the one who started it. But if their roles were switched and she were in Parker's place, defending her right to keep a trinket she'd only just picked up herself, she would have reacted in the exact same way - and perhaps it's that that makes her drop her hand and grin, fully approving of the other woman's spirit.

Turning back to the projector, she examines the spool again, then glances back at the reel in Parker's hand. Hmmm. They are roughly the same size and shape; maybe they slot together for some mysterious, unknown purpose.]

Here?

[She suggests, raising an eyebrow as she points.]

[sharker]

[ They're either going to be best friends or end up killing each other. Parker doesn't grin back. She keeps glaring at Callisto, suspicious and hostile, still holding tightly to the film reel.

But Callisto doesn't try stealing it again, and when she points to the spool, Parker edges closer, peering at it. It does look like it might fit there, and the result might be something close to what an old-fashioned film projector might look like, all put together. ]

I was just gonna put it there. Before you showed up.

[ Obviously. She has this all figured out. With another dirty look for good measure, she slips past Callisto and lifts the reel, carefully slotting it in, and studies it for a minute, faint memories coming back. ]

We need an empty one, too. There. [ She points to another spool, near the back. ]

[myfavoritemurder]

[The hostility only makes Callisto's grin widen, toothy and sharp. It is, after all, more familiar to her than kindness - and much easier to respect than meekness. She turns to grab the spool without complaint, examining it briefly before handing it over. Idly, she wonders what this contraption they're putting together could be - a weapon, maybe, for killing hostile creatures. Or each other.

But theorizing aside, she can't imagine how it'd work as one. While Parker works on fitting the empty spool in, Callisto pulls another off the storage shelf at random, giving the thin film strip rolled around it a tug.

Totally incomprehensible.]

[sharker]

[ Meek isn't in Parker's vocabulary, and kindness just barely is. But she's at least learned to work with people over the past few years. Some people. Sort of.

She takes the empty spool and fits it on, then glances over at Callisto and frowns when she sees what she's doing, moving impatiently over to try to tug the reel away.]

Stop, you're gonna mess it up!

[myfavoritemurder]

No.

[She snaps, as fully ready to defend her rights as Parker had been earlier. She follows the word up with some Greek, knowing it likely won't be understood but assuming that the message will get across anyway: "This one's mine. Hands off."

Holding firmly to the reel but temporarily distracted from unraveling it, she wanders back over to the projector, scanning for any more obvious empty slots that they might be able to fit things into. She still wants to figure out this maybe-weapon, so come back and finish it up, Parker.]

[sharker]

[ The message comes through loud and clear. Not that the concept of 'someone else's property' has ever done much (or anything) to dissuade Parker. But she doesn't want Callisto to hand over the reel so much as she wants her to just not ruin the film, so when she stops playing with it, she decides to count that as a win. For now, at least.

Instead, she gives Callisto one last I'm watching you look and makes sure to beat her back to the projector, elbowing her aside in order to get back into position. It's not too hard to (gently) pull the film from the reel and start to feed it through the machine; it's a little trickier to get it all exactly where it needs to go, but eventually she thinks she gets it all set up the way it should be. ​]

Okay. Now, we just...

[ She glances around, locates a switch with a little satisfied "aha!" and reaches over to flip it. There's a moment of silence, and then there's not, as the projector starts up with an overwhelmingly loud whir in the small space and, down below, the screen blazes to life. Parker cries out in triumph over the sound of the projector, looking eagerly down at the screen. ]

It's working!

[myfavoritemurder]

[What in the world.

Carelessly dropping the film reel that she'd been so defensive of onto the projector table, Callisto heads for the door. Once back in the main theater room, she beelines straight for the front, towards the strange black and white visions shown on the wall. They're not actually real people who are in the room with her - that's obvious enough - but what this isn't is a lot easier to determine than what it is. Could this be some kind of device for scrying? Turning to look back up at Parker, she calls out:]

Mageía?

[sharker]

[ The movie is an older one, something Parker doesn't recognize, and without sound it on its own isn't all that interesting. It's much more fun to watch Calliso's reaction as she flips out and runs for the screen. Parker stays where she is, resting her arms on the sill of the little window looking down over the theater, and grins down at her. ]

Nope, not magic.

[ The word's close enough to guess, especially with context. Her grin widens. Hardison would be so proud of her right now. ]

It's science.

[myfavoritemurder]

[The line between those two concepts is murky to the average person from Callisto's time, so even if she understood the word - and she does not - she would insist that obviously, something can be both science and magic. For now, though, she's content to just stick with the latter. It at least makes more sense than film projector.]

Can they see us?

[She asks thoughtfully, studying the people on the screen: a man and a woman, walking happily down the street of what seems to be some kind of city.]

[sharker]

[ Most people would simply say no, and then go on to explain the concept of 'film projection.' Parker sighs, a little wistful, and shakes her head. ]

I wish.

[ That would be cool. If a little inconvenient, sometimes. Hard to spy on people with security cameras if they can see you back. ]

It's just a picture, though. They're not really there.

[myfavoritemurder]

[Only about half those words are recognizable, but she's gotten pretty good at picking out the general meanings of the things that people say, when she can. Here, all she really needs to understand is not there. Maybe it is a scrying pool, then, or a vision they're being shown by the gods. She watches for a few more moments, eyes narrowed as she considers that second possibility.

"Show me something else," She snaps in Greek, clearly addressing the screen rather than Parker. "Show me something better. There's nothing like those streets in this village, so if you want me to care about what you have to show me on this-- this movie projector--"

She stumbles over the unfamiliar words, but definitely says them in English.

"-- you'll have to show me something I can actually use. Do that, or leave me alone."

And with that, she turns on her heel and heads back up towards the projection room. Once she's standing in the doorway facing Parker, she switches back to her rudimentary English.]

My name is Callisto. Your name is--?

[sharker]

[ Parker watches curiously as Callisto unleashes a string of what sounds like Greek at the screen. Unfortunately, while she recognizes the language, she can't actually interpret any of the words. Apart from movie projector, of course. She quirks up an interested eyebrow, half impressed at the attempt at pronunciation - 'projector' isn't exactly beginnger English - and half wondering just what the whole tirade is about.

Once Callisto reappears back upstairs, though, she turns away from the movie to face her. ]

Parker.

What were you saying down there?

[myfavoritemurder]

I--

[Callisto furrows her brow, getting the gist of the question (what was one of the first words she'd picked up here) but not having the words she needs to translate what she'd said.]

I'm saying things to Háidēs, and Árēs. They are...

[How does she even begin to explain the gods to someone who she assumes has never heard of them?]

They are strong.

[They have power, and even if they themselves don't have dominion over Mathias, someone very much like them must.]

[sharker]

[ But Parker's eyes widen in immediate recognition. Spend your whole life stealing priceless ancient artifacts and you pick up a few things. ]

As in the Greek gods?

[ "What other kinds would there be" shh don't worry about it, everything's fine. She tilts her head. ]

Were you praying to them? What were you saying?

[myfavoritemurder]

[She shakes her head, frustrated, and throws up her hands. "I don't understand you," she snaps in Greek. "And you don't understand me."

She does, in fact, understand enough to pick up on the general question being asked, and she can even piece together an answer, albeit not as in-depth an answer as she'd like to give. But dammit, the fact that this is so much more difficult than it should be is worthy of at least a small tantrum.]

They're strong.

[She repeats, crossing her arms over her chest.]

They-- made us be here. Do you want to be here, Parker?