villagemod: (ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ)
The Village Mod ([personal profile] villagemod) wrote in [community profile] 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.



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villagemodama: (ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ)

QUESTIONS?

[personal profile] villagemodama 2021-03-28 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
Use this space to ask general questions about the TDM. Please direct more broad game questions to the FAQ.
trajected: (077)

Diego Hargreeves (the umbrella academy)

[personal profile] trajected 2021-03-31 03:59 am (UTC)(link)
➼ i. ghosts of the living

[ Diego, it seems, is one of the unfortunate people who happen to be outside when it happens. It's not by any real choice. Yeah, sure, if he hadn't just shown up here, he'd probably have still gone outside anyway because no one wants to stay holed up inside - so it's likely he'd be caught in it anyway.

But because he didn't have the choice, he's understandably frustrated that he's somehow ended up somewhere again, and this time, the weather is fucking shitty.
]

Hello?

[ It's all he can do. The fog descended quickly, and even Diego, who considers himself incredibly observant (thank you very much), can't see for shit in it. He tries to remember what he'd seen before it happened. He thinks if he just turns a bit to the left and walks, he'll eventually hit a building, and then he can find a door. Or maybe another person. So that's what he does, but as he walks, he gets a strange sense of something like vertigo. Like the white wall of mist around him is spinning with the world, and Diego finds that he has to stop every few steps.

Fuck all of this, he thinks.

But then - That has to be a person, there's no question about it. Someone vaguely silhouetted by the fog.
]

Hey - Hey! [ Pushing through the dizziness, Diego hurries forward, glad to see someone else. Except that they're ignoring him, and the closer Diego gets, the more clearly he can see. ] Hell no, this is some Klaus bullshit.

[ And the last thing he honestly needs to be dealing with right now. ]


➼ ii. to see or be seen

[ He doesn't expect to find anything in the Town Hall. He doesn't expect to find anything anywhere in this stupid town, but Diego isn't really the passive type, so he may as well go check it out. Imagine his surprise when he sees the shitty jokes. Honestly, he should have known that at least one his siblings would be kicking around. It's not as if they can catch a fucking break.

Diego takes the jokes down. He won't admit it out loud, but he actually finds some comfort in it, in knowing that he's not as alone as the last time they ended up somewhere they shouldn't be. And at least now he has something to do, and that's find Klaus.

Except now that he's taken the paper down, he notices something painted behind everything. Probably some sort of town symbol, but curiosity draws Diego back in, even despite the way something is making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
]


➼ iii. wildcard

Choose your own adventure. Anything goes. Canon point for TDM purposes is post-season2 because I'm lazy (just like I'm too lazy to upload s2 icons at the moment). Feel free to hit me up at [plurk.com profile] blackspire for plotting or questions or w/e.~
kindersurprise: (Default)

i

[personal profile] kindersurprise 2021-03-31 05:35 am (UTC)(link)
[Maybe this time, he is finally dying, for real. It had been a little touch and go for a while. Fever dreams and the like. A carousel of familiar faces stooping down next to him, talking to him, chiding him, holding him. Despite the searing pain in his leg, the feeling of his body burning up, the taste of ashes on his tongue as windblown smoke stings his eyes, it was nice. A brief respite. A moment of peace. Until it wasn't.

Until they're all gone and he's alone, again, in the forest he mistakes for the trees. He staggers forward, uncertain. Is he still hallucinating? The bark feels real beneath his palm, but the edges of his vision are still blurred by the encroaching, all-encompassing, wily tendrils of fog, and he's struggling to keep his failing all-seeing eyes open.

He doesn't see anyone else until a woman walks straight through him. She slips through his fingers and before he can utter a single word, she is swallowed by the mists. Perhaps there are some natural conclusions to be drawn about what is happening here, about the nature of his dream-like reality, if one or both of them are dead. He doesn't get time to dwell on the subject before the voice of a human cuts through the eerie silence.]


Wait. [Geralt limps forward, joining the trees like a crayon line drawn through the dots, shaky and unsteady ambling until he approaches the other man. Looks human. Can't-- quite smell him, like before. That's still a high chance of getting stabbed, but it's better than an absolute certainty of getting lunged at and mauled; he'll take his chances. The forest floor is starting to tilt, and he almost loses his footing, but a stumbling to catch himself stirs up a few crunchy leaves and he manages to stay upright, fingers digging into old bark as he steadies himself.]

Have-- Have you seen the merchant?
trajected: (076)

[personal profile] trajected 2021-04-01 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ Finally, another voice coming through the fog. Diego's caught on to the fact that the ... Whatever the hell they are (he refuses to use the word ghosts) don't talk, and don't really seem to have a purpose. Besides, the voice that catches his ears sounds as distressed as he's feeling.

And, you know, Diego's sort of the heroic type.

So he pushes down the nausea that comes along with the dizziness, and follows the sound of the voice until he's close enough to see the stranger. No, definitely not looking good. Not that Diego's looking all that great.
]

The what?

[ He scrunches his face up. ]

Should I know who the hell that is?
kindersurprise: (15)

[personal profile] kindersurprise 2021-04-02 04:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[Geralt looks mildly irritated at the spirits that continue to pass them by. But then again, he probably has a resting bitch face that makes him look mildly irritated about everything. He tsks and grunts, shaking his head.]

Hm. Nevermind. [He wants his bag of potions, and his swords, but he figures that the old man can't have gotten far. As far as forests go, they're rather similar. It's not tropical or jungle-like. He can only presume that wherever he is, he's not far from the fighting he wants to go towards.]

Do you know where we are?
walkingtrigger: (Default)

Tim Gutterson | Justified | cw: Tim's language

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 08:25 pm (UTC)(link)
To see and be seen:

Tim was not a happy camper.

Luckily his resting bitch face was such that whether he was a happy camper or not his expression was usually the same. He had little recollection of how long it had been since he woke on the beach, assessed his situation and then headed up towards the town.

His right hand worried the empty holster on his hip. Part of assessing his situation had included finding himself completely disarmed. Service weapon, back-up weapon, knife. All gone. Some people might be concerned about these circumstances, particularly as Tim remembered carrying all of the above, plus his beloved rifle at the time things went ... fuzzy. But mostly he was pissed.

Tim had learned early on in life that when you found yourself being afraid it was better to get pissed off instead. He inwardly joked that he was the walking embodiment of better to be pissed off then pissed on.

He found himself in the middle of town at the bulletin board, staring at the notes and the creepy eye.

"What is this shit," he said in a flat tone. "'Cross words'? That's worse than Art's goddamn foot puns."
abrightboy: (not convinced)

[personal profile] abrightboy 2021-04-02 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"It can be a bit much when you're new here," Malcolm agreed from behind him.

He'd just come in to check for updates on the bulletin board but the something new was the man standing in front of it.
walkingtrigger: (pic#14791794)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 08:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Tim turned quick, balanced up on the balls of his feet. It was the only expression of disquiet he allowed himself to express and was more about muscle memory then conscious thought.

He narrowed his eyes at Malcolm, the expression naturally suspicious.

"So now you little shits are interested in talking?" Yeah, he may have come across a ghost or two in his route up from the beach.
abrightboy: (empathizes)

[personal profile] abrightboy 2021-04-02 08:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Malcolm's brow creased faintly at that.

"What other little shits have you run into?" he asked.

But the way he'd turned was particularly noted. This man had some sort of self defence training.
walkingtrigger: (Default)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well now. I asked but being the little shits that they are none of them bothered to answer," Tim explained, his disquiet channeled into an extra helping of asshole.

"Since you appear to be the spokesperson for little shits," yes Malcolm he just made a crack about your height. "Why don't you tell me?"
abrightboy: (a bit smug)

[personal profile] abrightboy 2021-04-02 08:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Malcolm looked genuinely confused for a moment, then the confusion broke and his laughed.

"Are you talking about the ghosts in the fog? Yeah, they're not chatty. Most of them are taller than me, too, though."
walkingtrigger: (pic#14791795)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Tim's eyes narrowed as he tried to decide whether or not this man was laughing at him. He decided that was paranoid thinking.

Maybe.

"Ghosts?" A single word but his tone was pure what fuckery are you talking about. This despite Tim's obvious experience with said ghosts, which he may or may not be trying to blame on an alcohol induced ptsd event.
abrightboy: (scrutiny)

[personal profile] abrightboy 2021-04-02 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
“Well, we don’t know that they’re ghosts, per se. It’s just shorthand that lets us all recognize what we’re talking about. But they’re not the creepiest thing this town has pulled. My friend Raylan thinks that whoever’s behind this may be farming our fear and disquiet. Evidence seems to support that theory. We don’t have any way to reach outside the... enclosure, if you will, though, so there’s no way to know for sure.”
walkingtrigger: (pic#14791797)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Well.

That was a bag full of cats to unpack. Tim's eyes narrowed again and he honed in on about the only word in all that which made sense.

"Raylan?"

It was not the most common name in the world but come on. How shitty could his luck be?
tinstar: (That's funny)

[personal profile] tinstar 2021-04-02 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
It was lucky that Raylan had made a habit of circling into the Town Hall every other day or so, just to make sure the place was still standing so he could burn it down later. It didn't hurt that new faces tended to end up here and Raylan liked to stay appraised of who came in and out of town.

He'd stopped short at the shoulders and frame that greeted him today though, head tilting a little before he started forwards again, one hand propping on his hip as a little curl settled onto his lips. He could peg those just about anywhere. No, he wasn't happy that Tim was here - the man had been through plenty on his own - but.. also he sort of was. A familiar face, a person he already knew, someone he could trust.

"Wait til you hear the rest of what it's got to offer," Raylan said in way of making Tim aware that he was there, fully assuming that Tim had clocked him about twenty feet back. "Makes Art's foot puns feel like a gift we're stuck without."
walkingtrigger: (Default)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
He'd noted an approach but had been holding still wondering if this Raylan was going to interact with him.

The other had completely ignored him.

When the older man spoke coming closer with the weight of moving air currents around his body Tim felt a small fissure of tension slide out of his muscles when he exhaled. The fact that a fissure of tension had been there in the first place, combined with the fact that he had to acknowledge that little fucker of relief, pissed Tim off. Which in turn meant he had to let Raylan know he was glad to see him in the proper Marshal way.

"Tossed into a video game developer's wet dream of a horror scenario, stripped of my weapons and now you show up," Tim sounded incredibly put upon and looked put upon as he turned towards Raylan. But if anyone would know better it was Raylan.

Tim had provided a sitrep he wouldn't have admitted to any random stranger.
abrightboy: (counterpoint)

[personal profile] abrightboy 2021-04-02 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)
“One of the other people trapped here. There’s twenty or so of us,” Malcolm explained. “Woke up here unexpectedly, same as you.”
walkingtrigger: (Default)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 10:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"Don't recall telling you how I arrived here," Tim countered and the muscles along his back coiled with instinctive distrust.

In his experience, people who told you how it was were usually the people who had put you in the situation at the outset.
abrightboy: (o rly)

[personal profile] abrightboy 2021-04-02 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
“Everyone arrives here the same way,” Malcolm pointed out. “But if you got here another way, please do show us the way out.”

If the guy was having trouble with this part, he wouldn’t do well with the whole magic thing later.
tinstar: (Amused)

[personal profile] tinstar 2021-04-02 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
He'd seen Tim in the ghosts, the Others, the people walking around in the fog but he'd known better by now. It was good to see the bit of tension drop Tim's shoulders a fraction and Raylan gave a shit eating grin as he came to a stop a few feet away.

"Can't let you go off havin' all the fun yourself, now can I. Wait til you hear about magical invisible wizard and the murder fog. You're gonna have a blast."

No, he knew that look, that tone.

"Don't worry about not havin' your sidearm, none of us do and what we're goin' again, I don't know that they'd be much good anyway." He knew what the first concern was.
walkingtrigger: (pic#14791796)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Pretty good bet that Tim was not going to do well with the whole magic thing later.

"You have anything useful to add to the conversation?"
walkingtrigger: (pic#14791794)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Tim's face was pure:

The.Fuck

"Thinking it's your turn for the drug testing," he remarked, harkening back to their conversation was approaching Eve's house. Whether he was more bemused at the idea of magical invisible wizard and murder fog, or the idea of 'having a blast'? Raylan could make his own determination.

The second bit of news was unwelcome, unsurprising but also strangely reassuring. At least it was reassuring when it came from Raylan. Tim still gave his empty holster a light flick with his fingers but then purposefully lifted his arms and crossed them over his chest.

"Please tell me there's alcohol somewhere, because if I have to listen to magical invisible wizard shit then it needs to be over a beer." Or something stronger? His eyebrows lifted on that last, unspoken part, hopefully.
tinstar: (Unimpressed)

[personal profile] tinstar 2021-04-02 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Raylan lifted his eyebrows in an almost sympathetic echo of 'Right?'

"Shit, if only," he said of the drugs. Raylan had never been one to do them in any form that wasn't Jim Beam, he wouldn't have said no to a hit or two of weed just for the fractional relief. Raylan figured Tim thought he was being sarcastic, joking, exaggerating for the sake of the metaphor. It wasn't going to be easy convincing him that he wasn't.

"General store nearby still has some beer, last I checked. Take it while you can get it 'cause we're down to brewing our own bathtub moonshine when the stores aren't flush." He jerked his head towards the door, waiting for Tim to get up to him before falling into step. "Sorry to say we drank all the good stuff before you came. Next run that appears, we'll save you a bottle."
walkingtrigger: (pic#14791797)

[personal profile] walkingtrigger 2021-04-02 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Falling into step with Raylan sent another brush of relief down Tim's spine causing him to set his teeth in annoyance. It was a short lived knotting of the muscles at the hinge of his jaw before he exhaled it out on his next breath and asked the burning question.

"Apple pie?"

It was a very important question!
tinstar: (protest)

[personal profile] tinstar 2021-04-02 10:51 pm (UTC)(link)
It might annoy him now, but a few nights out in this place and it would likely be welcome. Raylan saw the tension, the setting of teeth and knew he'd see a lot more before the night was over, assuming it had everything to do with being where they were. Buckle up, baby.

Raylan had to hum a note at the mention of Apple pie, very important question indeed, before shaking his head and opening the door with a gesture so he could follow Tim out. "Older than that. Which ain't a good thing, but it's better than the nothin' that was here when I showed up. Beer and tub moonshine is a step up. Had to pull out copper pipin' like I was gonna hock it. Guy I found is from.. He's an older sort-" How the hell was he gonna explain that. Fuck magic, he could talk Tim around to his own acceptance of it, but the whole time thing was still weird when Raylan put too much thought into it. "-knew a recipe. Needs plenty of agin' but it hasn't killed us yet."

He was also sure that Tim had noted the new faint scars running along the left side of his face, but he wasn't going to volunteer anything until it was broached.

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