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: ♫ )

---

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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Fedyor Kaminsky // Shadow & Bone

[etovosts]

☆ i. ghosts of the living

---

[ Fedyor's face is set into a grim look. It's not an expression that normally sits on his face, but he has little reason to be cheerful. The betrayal he feels is bad enough. Had Nina felt something so horrible that she thought the only place to turn was into the arms of an enemy? Perhaps she never regarded her fellow Grisha with any loyalty at all (though Fedyor can't bring himself to fully believe that, because while Nina is very gifted, surely she couldn't have fooled all of them so easily). Worse than all of that, really, is returning empty handed.

Fedyor has no doubt he will spent the entirely of the journey home rehearsing what to say. He must brace himself for the displeasure of the General as he admits to his failure. There was no Nina to bring back, and no Fjerden, either. The shame would cloud his reputation for weeks, at least.

Except that it would seem that fate is keen on giving him more to worry about.

The town he finds himself in is unlike anything he's really seen before, and Fedyor considers himself to be as worldly as one from Ravka can be. Diplomacy and charm comes easy to him, and, as such, he's always been sent abroad when needed. But this is something else all together. Fedyor is too caught up in gaping at his surroundings to notice the fog. It rolls in quick and unrelenting until even the red of his kefta isn't noticeable through the dense wall of mist. It's disorienting. Despite himself, Fedyor feels a rise of panic start to build inside of him as he pivots on his heel to try and recall where he was. The feat is easier said than done when it comes to a town one already has no bearing in.

He tells himself he's going to be fine. He's a soldier, after all, he's been through many things worse than a fog. It almost works. It's not until he tries to turn his gifts on himself and finds nothing pulling at him that the panic starts to bubble over. No, not panic. Nausea, perhaps, or just an overwhelming feeling of something not being right, building upon all the horrible things already stirring his emotions.

Fortunately, he sees someone - he thinks, he hopes - passing by, silhouetted against the thick mist.

Wait -

☆ ii. a bit of exploration

---

[ It is evident by now that this is not some fever dream. Fedyor takes it all with a grain of salt, because there's no point in fretting about it. He still doesn't feel quite right. The pull that he feels to things as a hearteender is there but weak, and Fedyor finds himself glad that all Grisha must learn combat training, and that his kefta is bulletproof. He feels too vulnerable without the small science at his side.

But he is also a curious man, keen on learning histories and legends and what places are like. It seems to him that the best thing to do is to explore what the town has to offer. It will soothe his worries and serve a purpose, as well.

There's plenty to see, and a lot of it is strange and fascinating, but Fedyor finds himself at the gallery. He's drawn in by the pictures hanging on the walls. They depict a life so different than the one he's known, but, more often than not, he finds himself looking at the picture of the cliff opening into darkness. That, he thinks, is something almost familiar, and it doesn't inspire warmth inside him.

But if you don't catch Fedyor at the gallery, then it's likely you will see him in the public library. He's not surprised to find himself there, for where else can one learn about a place? He starts at the front of the library, for that makes most sense to him, pulling books at random that seem interesting or education or simply strange. As the days go by, he continues to venture further, finding a simple pleasure in the musty, leather books. Fedyor is hard to miss where he sits with his books, clad in crimson and looking studios as he pours over the words on the pages.

☆ iii. wildcard

---

Choose your own adventure. Anything goes, from locations to prompts in this TDM, so go ham.

Exploration;

[skladka]

[ He thinks Mathis must be playing tricks on him. That has to be the reason he sees a familiar kefta, crimson embroidered with black and silver. One of his own. Surely, this is another way of the village stripping him of his agency, pulling him from his control.

'Here is a soldier you once commanded,' it will sneer at him, 'now he is just a figment of your imagination.'

The library had been a natural place for him to linger, mostly for the quiet if anything else--the village itself is uncanny in it's silence, but a library is supposed to be noiseless. It's comforting here in a way the rest of the place isn't. Until, of course, he spies that Kefta.

The Darkling straightens himself, turning the corner, preparing himself for some sort of mockery, but he's greeted with someone he recognizes. Not Ivan, no, but his husband--and while Ivan would have been preferred, Fedyor's talent and loyalty is certainly nothing to sneeze at. The Darkling is sure to keep his face neutral, despite the small spark of excitement. ]

Fedyor.

[ He's relieved. Wary, but relieved. ]

[etovosts]

[ He's too wrapped up in his book to notice the approaching steps. Well - he was aware that there was someone there. People move in and out of the library after all, so Fedyor thinks nothing of it until he's addressed by name.

And the voice is unmistakable. Fedyor doesn't hesitate, he has enough years of responding to that voice that his body acts on muscle memory as he stands up quickly from his chair. ]

General Kirigan.

[ He stands like an attentive soldier, but his voice betrays the surprise he feels. Suddenly all the concerns he'd had come rushing back, and yet Fedyor can't deny there's some relief in this. A punishment for a failed mission is preferable to being alone in an unknown town. ]

I am glad to see you.

[ He can't quite help the way the edge of his mouth tries to turn up into a slight smile. ]

[skladka]

[ He's glad too, for more reasons than company. Fedyor is charming, good at reconnaissance, perfect for intelligence. His left-hand man next to Ivan, and, currently, a perfect stroke of luck.

Fedyor's smile is met with a rare, soft smile of the Darklings, briefly there but visible before it flickers out and his stoic expression is back. ]

There's no need to stand ceremony. It's good to see a familiar face. [ Good feels like an oversimplification, but it's the best he can do as he nods at the other. There's so much that's happened in the span of the little time he's here. ]

When did you arrive? Are you well?

[ A general must care about his soldiers, after all. Fedyor is a good man. He'll break the news to the other in a brief moment. ]

Is Ivan....?

[etovosts]

[ Fedyor’s face falters. He had hoped (maybe even assumed) that Ivan would be here. After now seeing the General, that hope had made sense. ]

I’m well. I have only just arrived - Ivan is not with you.

[ It’s not a question. Fedyor has already figured out by the General’s tone that he hasn’t seen Ivan. Though perhaps that doesn’t mean he’s not here. Maybe the General just hasn’t seen him. ]

exploration;

[darkestlights]

[ She'd tried to lay low in her avoidance of Kirigan, able to avoid him -- or believe she's avoiding him by quiet footsteps and a quick turn of her heel. But, such was not the case with a heartrender. She'd started something of a habit grabbing a few books and bringing them to the gallery with a few pieces of paper and a pencil. Either taking time to do some quiet reading or working on her map. Arms bundled, she's struck by the sight of the red kefta -- immediately recognizing him. ]

Fedyor--

[ There's caution in her tone, unsure of how much he knew. Unsure if Ivan had divulged much before they'd set out, a sudden realization that she didn't know Ivan's fate after the huge battle in the Fold. And truthfully, not all that concerned given he'd almost killed her and Mal. Of the two, Fedyor had been far kinder to her, a bit of grief solely for him of what transpired. Of the trusts that had been broken.

So she stares, cautious -- testing. Concerned. Ready to run or fight at a moment's notice. ]

[etovosts]

[ He turns at the sound of footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet gallery, and after a brief moment of staring, his face breaks out into a smile. ]

Alina!

[ He's glad to see her, and it seems he's also a little relieved. The last he'd seen her had been at the Winter Fete, where her stunning power had inspired hope among the crowd before she went missing. Fedyor had heard of Marie's death in the attempted assassination of Alina. Like many others, he assumed that Alina had been stolen away from the palace rather than the truth of what actually happened.

He is, as they say, in a sort of blissful ignorance about everything that transpired soon after that. The General had sent him after Nina, which took Fedyor away from the events of the Fold. No news of it had been able to reach him between then and him ending up here. As far as Fedyor is concerned, seeing Alina alive and well is a happy occasion, regardless of where they might be. ]

It is good to see you. I was worried.

[ And he was, truthfully. Fedyor would be worried about any of his fellow Grisha that went missing following such drama, but Alina was, of course, special. He gives her arms a quick squeeze before dropping his hands. ]

[darkestlights]

[ A few things rapidly flow through her mind, firstly trying to decide if he truly means what he's saying or if he's just leading her on. If Kirigan got to him first and spun some tale. Put Ivan's possible fate in her hands. Even if, of the two, Ivan had never truly held much in the way of kindness for her. Not like Fedyor.

Saints, this is not what she expected when trying to just have a quiet few hours. Alina returns the smile, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. ]

Have you seen the General yet? He's here. I'm... I'm not sure how much he's told you of what transpired in the Fold.

[ If she's going to do this, it's got to be quick. Quiet and direct. And if Fedyor didn't hate her after, she'd need to swear him to secrecy for the sake of everyone else. It was eating her alive, the guilt-- the weight of the losses and the pain of the manipulation. Fedyor deserved to know it all, if only to keep himself safe from his General.

If he even believed her. ]

[etovosts]

[ The news that the General is here perks Fedyor up more, though not in the same way Alina's presence had. It's Fedyor's duty, of course, to be at the beck and call of Kirigan and to represent the Second Army's high standards. And, of course, there's the matter of Nina running off with a Grisha killer that Fedyor is going to have to somehow explain. ]

No, I - The Fold?

[ His brows knit together curiously. Had The General found Alina, then, while Fedyor was on his own assignment? Had they attempted to end the Fold at last? Fedyor had to admit that he was jealous, if that was the case, for he'd wanted to see it happen. Something about Alina's tone suggests things did not go well. ]

I am afraid I know nothing of it. I was carrying out an assignment that took me away following your disappearance, no news reached us.

[darkestlights]

You haven't seen him then... I didn't disappear. I ran.

[ She shouldn't tell him anything - should leave him in plausible ignorance and let him hate her after talking to Kirigan. Truthfully, that would be the safest option. But she'd never been great at holding her tongue. Ever. So it all just kind of tumbles out. ]

He doesn't want to destroy the Fold. He held me prisoner, tied me to the deck of a ship, expanded it. Novokribirsk--

[ The horror of her experience was easy to dismiss when dealing with him directly, until the villain started to peek through when she tested boundaries. She shakes her head, taking a step back. ]

I shouldn't be saying this.

[etovosts]

[ Fedyor's powers aren't working so great lately, but there's enough holding on that he can get flickers from Alina's heartbeat. As he listens, he knows that she's not lying. Truth be told, he doesn't think she has a reason to lie in the first place, which makes her news all the more troubling.

He thinks back to his time knowing The General. A whole life of following him, being loyal, and he realizes he's never suspected Kirigan of lying once. Maybe that's the worst part. For all the things Kirigan says, he believes it all to be true, so it's never a lie. Fedyor presses his lips together. ]

If not to destroy the fold, then what did he want you for? What other use could a sun summoner have if not to free us from it?

[darkestlights]

To take my power and wield it -- offer safe passage to those loyal. To use the Fold to control everyone and to expand it as much as he needs if someone dissents.

[ It's terrifying and it should be. The Fold was his greatest weapon and he'd already proven he had no issues with destroying as many people as he could that stood in his way. her frown deepens, brows knitting as she continues. ]

He wasn't alone, Fedyor. There were other Grisha helping him see this through.

[ She doesn't know how to break the news about Ivan, about his possible death. About David. About Genya -- about everyone. The intricate lies that had been woven, the Grisha who followed secret orders. That there was a coup taking place. ]

ii

[enduresurvive]

[ Ellie doesn't come to the gallery very often. Really, if you've seen it once, you've seen it enough times. She likes art, but Mathias is Mathias, and there are other things to worry about. But she sees Fedyor go into the gallery. She doesn't recognise him, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. There's a lot of faces she doesn't know here these days.

She's not doing anything, though, so she decides to follow him. She's quiet, but not silent; she's not looking to spy or hide. She clears her throat before speaking so she won't startle him. ]

That dark one's pretty creepy, huh? I mean, this whole fucking town is pretty creepy.

[etovosts]

It is very unsettling. [ Fedyor agrees, about the picture and the town as a whole. He hasn't been here long but it's been enough time for him to develop an opinion on the town's eeriness. His gaze lingers on the picture a moment longer before he turns to see who's joined him. ]

It reminds me of something in my homeland. All the more reason to be unsettled.

[enduresurvive]

She glances back at the picture for a moment, then raises an eyebrow at him. "You come from a place with creepy darkness in the rocks?" she asks, half-teasing. "Uh...wow. Well, hopefully wherever you come from isn't actually like this place. This place is a shithole."

Not that she has any room to judge or anything, but still. Mathias is a bad time for everyone, she's pretty sure.

"Did you just get here recently?"

[etovosts]

The colourful language isn't anything that Fedyor himself would use, but he doesn't need to guess about what shithole means. And if he's being honest, he's seen towns and villages far worse off than Mathias. At least so far.

"Yes. Barely two days. Is it very obvious?"

[enduresurvive]

She kind of shrugs. "I dunno. People don't spend a lot of time in places like this when they've been here awhile. I came in here because I saw you."

She looks back at the wall, the painting of the dark bit there. She doesn't have his basis of comparison, so for her it's just one more dumbass creepy Mathias thing.

[etovosts]

"Why is that?"

Fedyor thinks he'd like to spend a lot of time here. It's peaceful. Unsettling, sure, but what isn't these days?

"I've never seen a town like this. I wouldn't know where to start."

[enduresurvive]

She tilts her head and looks back at him. "Cause most of us just wanna get the fuck outta this town, y'know? So I guess everyone is busy trying to figure out how to do that. Shit, there's all these tunnels under the town and whatever, but there's a lot of blocked off places. I think a bunch of us have tried looking down there. This place, though?" She shrugs. "I'm not sure what we can learn here, if anything."

She's quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I never really did, either. I mean, I've seen abandoned places, but...this one takes the fucking cake."

[citharede]

[ Athena comes whistling her way into the library on Fedyor's second day there, intent on returning the book of Dutch folktales to its place on one of the shelves. It was a random find and a weird one, but fun.

Fedyor is super hard to miss. Athena stops short when she sees him, staring. It's not the him that gets the staring so much as his kefta. ]

You're a--thing! [ In her momentary excitement, she completely forgets the word, even though she knows it perfectly well by now. It's an ADHD thing okay don't judge her. ] You're Grisha!

[etovosts]

[ Her excitement makes him look up, but it's not her words. Fedyor's finding that his talents aren't as consistent as he's used to, but they come in and out, and he'd picked up at least a faint tell in her heartbeat. Then she speaks, and his eyebrows raise.

It's not entirely surprising she should recognize him as Grisha. That's why they wear keftas, after all, to stand apart and be seen not only as Grisha but to show their specialties. ]

You recognize the kefta?

[ That's the most promising thing he's heard since arriving. ]

[citharede]

Yeah! I--one second. [She holds up her free hand, one finger raised, and ducks into the shelves to put her book away before she forgets. Then she's back as if she didn't just blurt out that she recognized something from someone else's world and promptly hare off to do something else and leave them in suspense. ] I met Kirigan, he's here somewhere, I have no fucking idea where though but my guess is if I walk around town yelling his name at the top of my lungs for a little while that will probably draw him out.

[etovosts]

[ The General is here.

Fedyor stands, forgetting all about the book he was perusing as he lets it fall to the table. One the one hand, that's fantastic news. If Kirigan is here, then other Grisha might be. On other hand, Fedyor is hesitant to see him, as he's sure at some point Kirigan will want a report of Fedyor's mission. ]

Has he been here long?

[ And then- ]

You call him by his name.

[citharede]

He's been here for... [ She squints. God, the days blend together a little sometimes. ] A weeeeek-ish? I'm not sure exactly when the ocean coughed him up, but that's when I met him.

[ Her expression turns quizzical at his last statement. ]

Well. Yeah. That's kind of what names are for.

[etovosts]

Not his.

[ Does The General allow her to be so familiar with him? A week isn't much time, and there are people who wait years for such a privilege. Fedyor himself rarely uses the name, unless calling the man General Kirigan to his face.

It makes Fedyor assume there's an ulterior motive at hand on the General's side of things. ]

Many where I'm from would consider you bold for doing it. And perhaps a little crazy.