The Village Mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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villagememes2021-03-08 05:08 pm
villagemod) wrote in villagememes2021-03-08 05:08 pm
Entry tags:
test drive — spring
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.
no subject
When he says what he can do, she feels a prickle of goosebumps go up her neck. Yeah, manipulate a person’s insides is not the most comforting phrase she’s ever heard.]
I can’t do that. [She realizes after a moment that he can probably tell she’s uneasy—-as though it wasn’t already written all over her face.] I’m good with emotions, though. It’s… not really something people talk about where I’m from. Messing with people’s heads is super not legal if you don’t have written consent.
no subject
[ He offers her a gently amused sort of look, as if the thought of making a Fjerdan hunter feel less upset is one of the funnier things he's considered. He thinks that even stoic Ivan would huff out a laugh at that. ]
I find my natural charm gets me through most situations without it.
oops i am on my phone and too lazy to do html (YOU CAN REPLY WITH IT THO idc)
Even if, privately, she thinks it would be a better one.
She grins a little at his last comment. "You'll have to teach me how to do that one. People have called me a lot of shit, but charming is not one of them."
unacceptable
[ His smile comes a little easier now. He's forgotten, for the moment, his concerns regarding The General. It's not hard for Fedyor to settle into a friendly rapport with someone, if they're willing to accept it. ]
It's how I caught my husband, you know. No one can resist good charm.
no subject
She takes a few steps closer, the smile fading to curiosity.]
So... why is a sun summoner so important, anyway?
no subject
My homeland is bordered by something we call The Fold. I cannot think of a way to describe it beyond a stretch of shadow wasteland. It is dangerous to cross, and dangerous to go around. A sun summoner can have the power to destroy it.
no subject
Oh. [ Now she's curious, though. ] Why is it dangerous? Why can a sun summoner destroy it and not Kirigan? His whole thing is shadows.
no subject
[ He can't get into a proper lesson on Grisha theory. It takes years of study, and while Fedyor liked the studying and he's very good at it, there's no way to give a quick run down. ]
Once again yeets attempts at phone-html into the sun
“Um… does the sun summoner… not like him very much?”
same TBH
“I would say she likes him a bit too much.”
After all, he hears heartbeats, he knows how Alina’s sounds around Kirigan. He’s also not blind. Anyone can see the way they look at each other.
“The General is a private man. It is easy to misread his attitude toward things.”
no subject
“Really?” It’s not that she doubts Fedyor, it’s just…
She’s not sure yet. A tidbit to tell Raylan about later.
Something else occurs to her and she takes a sharp step forward.
“Your magic! Er. Your… invisible… science. Is it all fucky?”
no subject
Fedyor is a very accomplished Corporalki, strong and connected to his craft. He isn’t used to having it be this way.
“The pull is not as strong as usual.”
no subject
It's a little weird, calling Kirigan Kirigan when this guy just refers to him as The General (and she's going to have to ask him about that later).
no subject
It doesn't mean he likes it, but there's something comforting in knowing that he's not experiencing it on his own. The last thing he needs is to be rendered useless.
"Is the General the only other Grisha you've met here?"
no subject
She shivers a little. "Kirigan--um. Your General showed me what he could do, with the whole amplifying people's powers thing. It worked even with me."
And she's not going to admit that it hurt him to do it. She feels like Kirigan would not appreciate the sharing of that particular detail.
The next thing, though, he'll find out on his own soon enough. "There are other people here with powers, too. Not Grisha. All a little different, depending on where they're from. One of my mentors, Jeff, he's here--he's Gifted like me. But everyone else has their own ma-- small science."
no subject
"You do not need to use our terms for it. Gifts are good things, you should call yours what it is."
no subject
"Well, people only really seem to get any sense of what the Gift is when I say 'magic,' even though no one under a billion years old calls it that anymore. We've got scientists who study it too, though."
She makes a face. "I'm not really up on the whole Gifted theory thing. Not as much as I should be, anyway."