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test drive — autumn
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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.

Since not all setting details have been made available yet, you are welcome to invent your own general locations for this test drive. There are no living souls in Mathias Township beyond the player characters. In fact, there are no signs of life at all... We hope you enjoy your visit.

( Recommended listening: ♫ )

— the fog —

It moves in quickly and without warning, not from the waterfront but the forest, cascading through every street in a thick wave of white. The fog is not a soft blanket enveloping the town, but a heavy weight pressing down, threatening to suffocate the sky is blotted out and you can see no further than your outstretched hand.

Those outside when it rolls in are left wandering blind, stumbling toward shelter as you're unable to even see your feet beneath you, let alone any obstacles in your path. Perhaps you call out for help, hoping for another voice to guide you toward shelter or simply another living soul. Or perhaps you were lucky enough to already be inside when the fog descended, quickly closing doors and windows to keep it from creeping in. Can you hear those voices crying out? You recognize some, but the others... Are they really there at all, or are you alone here and simply beginning to finally lose your mind?

And perhaps the most important question: Do you answer?

— portents —

You wake up with an ache in your head and a cloudiness to your thoughts, your body sprawled on the ground in a location you don't remember going to. As you sit up, the world spins and start to clutch your head — to realize there's something on your hand. A symbol, a word, a streak of wet paint or ink. You don't recognize it or have any memory of how it got there...

Or how the much larger depiction came to be on the wall or the floor around them. You can see it shining wet in the glow of whatever light source is nearest, but something instinctual urges you not to touch it. If you defy that urge, it burns, a searing pain that radiates from the matching mark on your hand.

Did you do this? Or was it done to you? The person approaching may have answers — or accusations.

— past deeds —

The Town Hall stands at the center of Mathias Township, a modest two-story building that would be welcoming if not for the faded sign, chipped paint, and deafening silence. 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 your attention is a large bulletin board on the main wall, once meant to hold flyers or announcements for the community.

What it holds now is decidedly different. Tacked onto the board is a torn scrap of paper with words scrawled almost illegibly in dark red ink.

why did this happen

Upon close examination, a keen eye will realize that the ink is actually blood, though whether it is human is unknown. And beside that scrap, a symbol has been drawn in dark black marker — it resembles a feather or a branch, but you've never seen anything like it before. It scares you even as you know it is perhaps the most important thing you have ever seen in your life.

On the floor below the bulletin board are more scraps of paper scattered amongst grime and dust, most blank but some with other strange symbols scrawled in a variety of inks, perhaps matching the pens and markers scattered near the baseboard. Some are small enough that they might have once been part of the same page, creating something larger. And to the far side, a pristine stack of crisp white copy paper and an unopened box of ballpoint pens.

What do you do?

code bases by tricklet

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ well, his lighter is always useful for something.

all he's really doing is poking around where he shouldn't be. digging when things tell him he shouldn't. what's usual for john constantine. swag, trenchcoat, arrogance. all of it walking as he simply investigates the dark area he found himself in.

found meaning he performed a classing breaking-and-entering.

it doesn't take long for him to find a form on the ground - twitching in a way they shouldn't. with a curse under his breath, john quickly makes his way over and kneels down to the person. the lighter moves over so he can see them properly.

he drops the lighter as he grabs her to try and anchor her. there's no hesitation once he sees who it is. it brings vivid flashbacks of their trip to the hospital for that damned dark heart. a new sort of panic floods him, and for the moment, his anger over what happened in new orleans is gone. ]

Zed!

[ zed keeps twitching. her mind goes a million places at once and it almost feels like she's being torn apart. it's like she's being overloaded. and then she feels something or at least she thinks she does. it's like a someone. someone familiar but it's hard to tell. it's hard to tell much of anything right now.

and then she hears it. she hears him. she knows that voice. but for some reason, it's hard to accept that it's really him. that he's the one who is saying her name.

john?

she can't speak even though she tries. but her twitches become less violent as she instincivly leans into him. ]

[ he'll never admit to doing some reading up on how to handle a person having a seizure. it'd be obvious anyways. he eases her to her side, hands gently making it so her body can do as it needs. it's test of strength not to just grab her and try to make it stop. it's hard to remember that the tumor has probably always been there, and it might not be his fault that she's given it a hard push in the wrong direction.

it his his fault. if he had never let her come along with him and chas, and if he never kept pushing her past the point...

john sighs and hangs his head, only glancing down at her when she leans towards him. once she's stilled he shifts one of his arms underneath her shoulders to gently prop her up.

no hospitals. no people. shit. shit. shit. ]

[ when the seizure finally stops she's dazed. she's confused for a few moments as she tries to find some way of grounding herself. then she remembers she had heard john's voice and becomes more aware that there is someone holding her. she looks up slowly and sucks in a deep breath when she realizes it really was john. there is a part of her that wants to reach out and touch him just to be sure but she fights that urge. ]

John?

[ john isn't one for the touchy-feely shit. especially when it comes to things he actually cares about. oh, sure. there is that lingering anger from the display she put on with corrigan. it rumbles in the back of his head just like the rest of everything else that drives him to do his stupid choices. right now though... he's more concerned with her being the tactile psychic that she is in the middle of a town like this.

which is why he is uncharacteristically holding her close. her head on his shoulder as he cradles her sort of close. ]

Zed. [ he's trying to mask all the emotions in this voice. ] You should know better than to follow me to every place I go, luv.

[ it takes her a moment to full process just how physically close to john she was. it was something he had seemed to avoided with her since she had first grabbed his arm and tapped into his feelings. right now her mind is whirling to many different directions for her to really tap into anything right now and she's exhausted. there is also a part of her that is scared because she's knows something is wrong and off but she has no idea what.

but those fears are quelled by the fact that john is holding her like this - the closeness, she feels safe. ]

Then you should stop wandering off.

[ she wouldn't know he was the one that caught her and held her when she had that first seizure in the hospital. though he'd be a bit surprised if chas hadn't told her at some point. oh, bragging about how john constantine cares when he acts like he doesn't.

he gives a laugh that's more of a huff at her comment. of course. he shouldn't go wandering off. ]

When you stop touchin' stuff you shouldn't be. Thought we went over that one with Gaz, yeah?

[ that stings. gary lester might have been an even bigger disaster than him, but, it'll always sting. gary needed to take responsibility for what he did. yet, john led him to the conclusion. ]

Now that you've stupidly followed me somewhere you shouldn't of, what have you gone and done to yourself? [ he looks her over for any sign of attack or injury. something had to set off her seizures like that. something powerful. ] Obviously it wasn't some accident where the paintbrush won.

[ she wants to protest that gary had been the one to touch her. besides she had been wearing a sweater she had no idea that gary's feelings would be so intense it would go through the fabric. ]

Mmm... I don't know. [ she honestly didn't. she couldn't really remember what she was doing before she had woken up and found herself here with the pounding in her head.

then she remembers the mark on her hand. she raises her hand up and looks at it and furrows her brow. then she holds her hand up to john to show him, she still leans against him. ]

Do you know what this means?

[ he smirks at her before turning his attention to her hand. so, she just showed up like the rest of them. whatever or whoever found all this a bit funny certainly enjoys that trick. it's almost getting old at this rate. he makes sure to mask that annoyance from her at the moment.

namely because he is reaching up to steady her hand at the wrist so he can look at the mark. he barely touches her skin. zed connects with him too easily. his magical protections aren't working like they're supposed to. the last thing he wants to do is send her into another seizure or coma because of how screwed up his own head is. ]

Can't say that I have. Looks like you've gone and gotten yourself marked. [ his voice quakes a bit at that--only because he doesn't know what marked her. it's obvious it unnerves him and frustrates him. ] There's plenty in this bloody town I've never seen before. An occultists dream.

Except not mine. [ he shifts, sitting down so she can rest in his lap. there's no real doctors to help her recover. means he'll have to tough it out and be touchy-feely until she feels like she can walk again. ] Zed, it's important. Can you remember anything before you ended up here?

Marked?! [ something about the word unsettles her. whatever it means she doesn't like the sound of it. for some reason, it reminds her of something her father would do to his followers and that is enough to make her feel sick and she shifts to lean even closer to john. ]

I was looking for you. [ she tries to think back but so much of it was all a blur. but that one thing stands out. jim kissed her in the bar and then john had been there, watching them before leaving the bar. she had felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. she liked jim and she cared about him. but she didn't feel the same way about him. but she hadn't had the heart to push jim away, not after she told him he was going to die. what was she supposed to do? ] I left the bar but I couldn't find you.

[ he turns her hand by the wrist so she can see the lovely mark resting on her hand. still careful not to touch her too much or apply pressure. ]

Wandered off for some alone time. [ he answers her unsaid question. ] Got about as far as an overpass before waking up on a bloody beach in a storm. Been here ever since.

[ he isn't going to talk about corrigan -- or any of that. not now. maybe not ever. instead he flicks the lighter on and hands it to her. ]

Hold onto this for me for a bit, yeah?

test drive — autumn

portents ... ;_;

why do they hurt like this

cause series cancellation ;_;

RUDE

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