October 2018 Test Drive Meme

[sodder]

OCTOBER 2018 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to October’s Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: HALLOWEEN HORROR.

All Test Drive Memes contain at least one clue to the Deerington's upcoming in-game events for the month! Keep your eyes peeled! But...not literally.

Characters may die during TDMs, but you do not need to count it towards a game-canonical death unless you want to. Consider it a freebie. All TDMs can be considered game canon as TDMs introduce minor aspects about the world of Deerington that can be revisited by characters later on in the game. You may also use TDMs for your application writing sample as well as AC.

CW: Wet and rotting corpses/zombies, ghosts, violence, blood, knives, possessed dolls, options for underage drinking

Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

IT’S JUST A BUNCH OF HOCUS POCUS

It’s not Halloween if you don’t make a trip to a cheesy haunted house. At least, that’s what everyone in Deerington likes to say. The old Victorian stands at the top of a hill, rickety and in desperate need of a new paint job. The yard and porch have been decorated with what you’d expect for your typical haunted house; fake spider webs spread across the overhang, painted foam grave markers with cheesy names like “Here lies Richard Cranium” and “BEWARE!!” in creepy letter etchings. You can see the blinking of variously timed strobe lights in some windows and the shadow of what you’re pretty sure is a full-sized doll standing in the window, meant to look like someone staring out at you. The rocking chair on the porch near the door has a skeleton with a bowl of candy in his lap, and a sign is propped up against the wall next to him.

“ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK. TOUCH NOTHING AND NOTHING WILL TOUCH YOU!”

Well that sounds promising.

The first few rooms you enter are appropriately cheesy. There’s the silly burst of air that you hear just before a plastic figuring pops out of a poorly constructed coffin, the clicking sound of the machinery inside echoing in the room when it starts to pull back and the lid closes once again. There’s fog machines trying to give the appropriately spooky air, stuffed sheets shaped to look like dead bodies wrapped up laying in piles on the floor with fake blood staining the white fabric, black lighting to show off words scribbled on doors like “TURN BACK NOW” and “SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES.” Nothing you haven’t seen before. It might be even worse than things you’ve seen before, over the top cheesy, boring enough to give a yawn. Each door seems to open on its own so you don’t even have to touch the handles.

As you make your way through the next automatic door, the room you walk into is different than those before it. It’s a regular children’s room. A bed against the wall near the window, a dresser in the corner, a small desk with a chair. Nothing out of the ordinary, save for the lights not being on, and the strange flickering light in the closet. You step towards it, figuring you’re in for another jump scare, but the door doesn’t open. Whether you’re naturally the curious sort or not, something in the back of your mind makes you want to open the door and see what’s on the inside.

If you fight it and walk towards the next automatic door, you’ll find you’ve walked out to the backyard of the house, those same foam decorations and a dozen or more jack o’ lanterns lighting your way on a path back to the town.

If you choose to pull the door open, however, it’ll take you into yet another room, with a flickering television playing nothing but static. Once you step past the doors of the closet, they slam shut behind you and whoever else dared to enter. The doors won’t lock no matter what you do, no matter how strong the person shaking the handles or pushing against the wood may be. You realize you broke the one rule; you’ve touched something. But can things now really touch you?

The only light source in the whole room is that television and it’s not lighting up much inside the room around it. If you squint when the TV is at its brightest setting, you can just make out another door. Your exit, you hope. But as you make your way towards the door, the flickering suddenly stops, the TV steadily bright, a low humming noise coming from the screen, and suddenly the door seems several more feet away from you than it was a second ago. Before you can reach the door, there’s the sound of trickling water from behind you. If you choose to look back, you’ll see something coming out from the screen - a girl with soaked clothing and pale, rotted skin. She emerges fully from the glass and starts to move towards you. You know it’s best to start running for that door. If you stay and try to fight, you’ll find that no regular weapons work on her, though special weapons and powers that are effective against spirits will definitely do the trick. For those who don’t have any of these at their disposal, however, there is one more hope besides just trying to run; two old school VHS tape sit on the table near by, a fancy machine between them that is meant to copy one to the other. Work as a team and have one distract her while the other records, and you’ll find that she disappears as quickly as she flickered on the screen and the TV will return to static.

Regardless of what you choose before carrying on, the next room you come to as the door slams and locks behind you is entirely different. Brightly lit and filled with what seems like hundreds of porcelain dolls, it’s almost hard to tell where there could possibly be another exit hidden among the massive shelves. You can start to wind your way through them, but before long, you start to hear the sound of running feet, the jingling of bells, the swish of satin, and most eerily the sounds of children giggling - but there’s nothing that sounds save about them. Some of the dolls you saw on the last shelf seem like they’ve moved and are sitting in the corner or laying in a new position on a new shelf. Sometimes you swear you can see their heads turn to watch you pass, but it has to be a trick of the light, doesn’t it?

That is until one of those dolls runs by you, brandishing something shiny in their hands - something sharp. A knife, you realize too late, as it tries to slice at your legs and knock you down. You can kick them away and they’ll go flying, and when the porcelain smashes, the doll will scream in agony. You notice there’s blood pouring from the hole that formed, spreading quickly across the ground. The dolls are easy to kill, but are they really just dolls? You can take your time to contemplate that later, as now you have to fight your way through the violent and armed toys to reach the door at the end of the maze of shelves. Hopefully you can get out without too many severe injuries.

When (or if) you do manage to get to the next room, you seem to have a chance to take a breath and tend to any wounds. It’s decorated like the room of a small cottage, a large pot over the fireplace that isn’t lit, and several jars full of (possibly rotting) food and herbs on the shelves. You see a book on the stand in the center, latched shut and covered in dust. You can open it, if you want, but remember the warning you ignored that got you in trouble in the first place. It’s probably better to carry on to the next room.

If you do choose to open the book, though, there will be eerily glowing text lining the pages, the light will seem to poor out and fill the room, and you’ll be transported back out in front of the house.

Those who continued through the door will find themselves out in the backyard. Just like for those who got out sooner, there are dozens of jack o lanterns, but the graves don’t look like they’re made of foam this time. They’re real stone, engraved with real names and real dates this time. And the ground underneath them seems to be moving, like someone’s trying to crawl out of there. Better not to wait around. Soon as you start to move down the path, you’ll start to hear the sounds of groans as the undead start to crawl from their own graves, pulling themselves up through the dirt, and determined to get to the only food source they see - you. The zombies seem like they’re never ending, coming from every inch of the yard, but at least they’re just like normal zombies - completely incapable of being killed unless you cut off the head. There are shovels lying next to a few graves if you need a quick weapon, but there’s also still always the option to run as fast as you can up the stone path to the front of the house and back towards the street.

When you do finally manage to get back to the front, there’s a momentary blinding flash of light, disorienting anyone near it for a few seconds. When it finally fades, any leftover zombies chasing you have disappeared and the house looks like the same, cheesy haunted house you walked up to in the first place. If for some reason you decide to go and explore the backyard again, the grass will be back to normal, and the graves will all be replaced by cheaply painted foam once more.

Was that all in your head? Who knows. But maybe it’s best to just get out of here.

WE DID THE MASH

Somehow the street lamps have all been converted to oil based flames, the Authority are in witch hats, and every where you go there is music that seems to be playing from faintly glowing bats hanging upside down from telephone wires. The bats will open their mouths in succession, seeming somehow capable of producing the sounds of instruments and singers alike of popular Halloween songs.

Yards are decorated as thoroughly as the front of stores. Maybe you haven't bothered to decorate, but your neighbor sure has! Fake gravestones are propped up in yards, giant fake spiders in trees, and no matter where you walk, the ground seems covered in thick, rolling fog from machines. Or at least you hope it's coming from machines. Hell, you can't even find it in yourself to be too worried! Everyone around you is having way too good of a time! And God, there is food everywhere! Might as well grab a bite while you're out, huh?

It's tempting to break loose and dance. Jack-O-Lanterns absolutely crowd the streets. There's more than you can even begin to count, and all of them are lit all throughout the night. Even if you accidentally trip over some, they don't seem to catch fire to anything or go out! Some neighbors have camp fires set up with marshmallows to roast, while others have...are those broomsticks? Well that's kinda cool, you guess. Correction: it's really cool since you can actually pick one up and take it for a fly! Make sure to attach a little lamp to the front though because God knows it's dangerous flying at night. The brooms only work if you wear the appropriately provided hats, of course, but you can keep both the broom and hat indefinitely and have a readily available means of flight in Deerington after! Be forewarned though: the brooms are as easily broken as regular brooms and the hats easily blown away in the wind.

TRICK OR TREATS

At any of the events, especially the nighttime partying, you can find any number of the following treats (and their potential side effects):

Donuts (Will make you deliriously happy. Everything is amazing to you. May cause a lot of affection. A lot of affection.)
Candy Apples (You will eagerly tell someone everything you like about them. Talk about a sweet tooth.)
Candy Corn (Will make you extremely sad. Like god, you'll be wondering why you hate yourself so much.)
Pumpkin Spice Lattes (Causes suspicious amounts of obedience and a desire to do what you're told.)
Hot Chocolate (Can provide some minor healing. Best stuff to drink with a common cold!)
Hot or Cold Apple Cider (Nothing will happen. It's just really good.)
Alcoholic Cider (This isn't your grandma's apple cider. This stuff will knock you on your ass. Anyone who drinks this will get wasted regardless of whether or not they are immune to alcohol or even ingest regular food. It only takes one or two before you start to get tipsy, but any more than that and you'll be well on your way to drunk. Please drink responsibly. We don't need any FUIs.)

Character Arrival

You can read how all characters arrive in Deerington here.

There is not a collective "all these characters showed up at the exact same moment" occurrence in Deerington. Since characters fall asleep, die, or pass out at various times throughout all their worlds, it wouldn't make too much sense if they arrived in game all at the exact same time. There should be some discrepancy between character arrival, whether by a couple minutes, hours, or even days up to a week.

The players are entirely in control of how/when they want to play their characters arriving in Deerington. For TDMs, you can play it like your character has just arrived and that can be maintained as your game canon, or you can wait until game events for that moment. Or you don't need to acknowledge it at all. The flexibility for character allows a bit more of an organic feel to the character arrival situation, so please play it to whatever feels right for you.

If you are interested in having an "arrival" introduction for one of your TDM prompts, you are more than welcome to explore that option.

Comments

I DON'T MIND AT FUCKIN ALL

[danzan]

[ It's surreal how the guy's stance has him thinking, very briefly, of Cyclops.

But Logan stares down at him, unimpressed. ]

It bothers me. [ He thinks that should go unsaid. ] But there's nothing I can do about it.

WELL THEN HERE WE GO

[nothinicantkill]

You can always do something about it.

[Cable sounds angry, at that. Giving up is something he's never had the luxury, not even with the war they were losing.]

[But first, he had to try something, because he could swear the man looked just like...]

Logan.

[danzan]

[ In the one month that Logan's been here, he's been called a couple things. He's used to Mr. Howlett, used to some folks calling him James. There're people who call him Logan, sure, but only because he tells them to, but this guy--

Well. It has what had earlier been indifference mixed with mild irritation turning into a half-glare. ]

Do I know you, pal?

[nothinicantkill]

Likely not.

[Cable shifts the gun on his back, letting it rest on part of his back that doesn't ache.]

My name's Cable. We studied the history of the X-Men as children.

[danzan]

[ It's surreal hearing the name "X-Men" here. It's surreal hearing the name with the weight of actual knowing on it, and not something someone else has repeated because he's said it, himself.

Logan's expression sours. And then he turns his head away just slightly as he processes this information-- this guy comes from home. ]

...where are you from that you studied mutant history. [ Is that the future that he created, after the 70's?

The thought of it being that good, and having someone from there in this hellscape, makes Logan's stomach hurt. ]

[nothinicantkill]

[It's just as surreal for Cable to be here, staring at someone he only knew from a book. He runs his right hand through his hair.]

I'm from Earth. In the future.

[He's wondering if he should have said anything at all, but he sticks to his guns. No need for Logan to see him nervous. Not that he is nervous. Cable makes fists with both hands. His arm makes mechanical noises.]

[danzan]

How far? [ The arm doesn't bother him. The smell of it doesn't bother him, either-- he's seen other things, seen mutants who'd been through worse. (If he knew the whole story, though, it'd be something else.)

Briefly, Logan wonders if Cable lived in the Sentinel War. He wonders where in hell he came from at all. And now that someone knows him as Wolverine-- well and true, honest Wolverine-- feels his posture straighten as he shifts the book under his arm. ]

I come from 2023. [ Logan's presuming Cable knowing who he is must mean that means something. Absolutely anything at all. ] But a [ his head tilts ] different one. Maybe. From yours.

This place looks like it's in the 50's, but you have tech spanning from the 50's all the way to the 2010's. Calendars don't have a year. Newspaper's useless.

If you got your letter from Sodder, it'll say you're dreaming. [ But there's a sort of detached sense to his tone that shows Logan doesn't quite buy what he's saying. ]

So far that's the theory most folks here go with.

[nothinicantkill]

Pretty damn far. I slid back recently, 2017.[That's all Cable is willing to divulge. Timestreams can be messy at best, and he's not sure how much he says will mess with it.]

[Not that this has stopped him before.]

2023. Doesn't stand out to me. Must be different 'streams.

[Dreaming? It would explain a lot, but not enough.]

Must be a fever dream, then. Feels too real, otherwise.

[danzan]

's why I don't think this is a "dream" like we're used to.

[ Rolling the words in his mouth a little, he goes with: ] I saw myself asleep. At Xavier's. [ He doesn't bother elaborating on what Xavier's is, not if Cable knows who he is. ] It was just for a second, but I know I was in my room.

Could just be a trick of the mind, but other people saw themselves in their worlds, too. [ One hand moves up to scratch absently at his beard. ] And...

Where'd you wake up? There's a Basket there you need to look at.

[nothinicantkill]

[Cable nods at the mention of Xavier's. The building doesn't exist anymore in his future, but the grounds are still considered holy ground for believers. He's been there and let the soil run between his fingers.]

I saw myself in a hotel room. It had been a long day.

[Chasing Russell, getting beat to hell, saving Deadpool. Long day.]

Hm? In an apartment. I didn't see a basket... but I didn't look, either. Wanted to know where the hell I was. What's so important about it?

[He's concerned. What did he miss?]

[danzan]

Has some things in it: a phone with Internet, protective charms, a letter from the person who made 'em, a map of the place, handbook of laws, your town license, and food.

Mine had a couple things from home, too. [ Self-consciously, he brushes his hand against the wallet where it rests in his back pocket. ]

Point is, you gotta eat something, or else you disappear.

So you should probably be gettin' to it now.

[nothinicantkill]

Mm. Yeah, I'll go do that.

[Cable doesn't seem convinced about the 'disappearing' part. Not until he realizes his shirt seems to be flaking off. What is this, temporary clothing?]

Shit. All right. I'll go find this basket.

[He pauses.]

Is there anything else I should be on the lookout for? Are there any other mutants here?

[danzan]

They don't call themselves mutants, but I've met two telepaths and a teleporter. Been training the first two, too.

[ He makes a brief forward cock of his head, gesturing to the shirt Cable's got on that seems to be gradually disintegrating. ] Go get your food. We'll talk as we go.

[ And once that starts up, Logan's first order of business is telling him, ] There're dangerous creatures here. Haven't met 'em all myself, but I've been making notes on how they're killed.

[ Briefly he notices Cable's gait reminds him of a soldier's-- of his own. It makes his mouth twist a little, but he decides not to comment on it. ]

[nothinicantkill]

[Cable nods. Two telepaths. Good to know. He'd have to keep his mental shields as strong as possible. And only Logan to teach them? Well, he'd had experience with several, Cable knew. Could be worse.]

[So, walking.]

I'd like to see those notes, if possible. Is there a protective force here? Police? Army? Neighborhood Watch?

[He notices how Logan moves as well. Fluid, confident, almost predatory. And a bit of the soldier in him as well. Just enough.]

[danzan]

An organisation, from what I hear. Voluntary kind of thing that hunts and studies the shit that goes on around here.

[ He cocks his head to the side in thought, then shakes it. ] Haven't heard of police.

People just follow the laws in the handbook without any enforcing. So far it's kept 'em safe.

[ Logan moves, walking at Cable's side. It doesn't take too much effort with how much longer his legs are.

But he has to ask, now that he knows Cable's from his world-- ] You a mutant too?

[nothinicantkill]

Mm.

[Cable could go for something like that. But it would have to be more of a freelance gig. Or at least, he could treat it like one. He knows his limit for taking orders.]

Low level telekinetic. Telepathy as well, but it seems to have faded away as I've gotten older.

[danzan]

[ His first thought is Jean, and the memory leaves him feeling half a measure hollower.

But he replaces the misery with the knowledge that she'd be proud of him for being an X-Man now, as they'd always wanted him to be. ]

What do you mean "faded"?

[nothinicantkill]

[The idea that he was walking with Logan--Wolverine!--was staggering, but he hid it well. Going back to the time of the X-Men, sure, he wasn't surprised, but even so. This man was a legend, a hero.]

Just that. I'm not sure why. I'm told my mother was strong with both, but I never knew her.

[His brow wrinkled with the thought. Something that was never explained to him, even after he'd grown up. It always rubbed him the wrong way, but they never told him much of anything.]

It would have been a boon during the war.

[danzan]

The what.

[ War, he says, and Logan's throat goes dry as if someone'd poured sand right down it. He reaches up, fixing the collar of his shirt, but more out of uncertainty than any real need. ]

...you were in a war? That why you have all that? [ He's not gesturing to the weapons, not at all, but the metal arm.

And he feels sick to his stomach. ] Don't tell me they turned you into a weapon.

[nothinicantkill]

[Cable sighed. He shouldn't have mentioned... well, a lot, but this is Logan and if he can't trust an X-Man, who could he trust.]

[Trust no one, whispered in the back of his mind. He was sick of living on the edge. And honestly, it was good to speak of all of it.]

[Cable looks down the length of his bionic arm.]

No, I wasn't a weapon. Not in the way you mean. This is... [he flexed his hand, his arm] Have you ever heard of Apocalypse?

[danzan]

Yeah. Rumoured to be the first mutant. [ You don't teach at Xavier's for something like a decade without knowing something like that. As far as he's aware, though, En Sabah Nur and his possible return was just a hokey prophecy never to be fulfilled.

...at least, that was what he was aware of before. Cable's bringing it up tells him different.

He growls one low, short noise. ] The metal's En Sabah Nur's fault?

[nothinicantkill]

[Cable frowns. It's not something he likes to talk about, even with people he knows and trusts. But this is a weird situation and honestly he might just wake up in the morning from this dream.]

Apocalypse started a war, and unfortunately, we lost.

[He stops, looks, starts up the stairs to the porch.]

This is the house I woke up in.

[Good thing, too. He has about half a shirt, metal peeking at the bottom edge.]

CAN I PRETEND IT'S WADE'S HOUSE?

[danzan]

[ There's a very long, very pregnant silence as he thinks about war and loss. But whereas that had been filled with a kind of mourning, sorrowful and heartbreaking, the sight of Cable's home turns that silence into something more disbelieving.

Very quietly, he mutters, ] Wade's house.

[ He wants to talk more about the war, but he doesn't want to overstep. More important than that, however, is the way Cable is disintegrating, so he shuffles forward and opens the door for him, giving a good sniff as he does.

Wade must not be home. ]

We'll talk more after you eat.

SURE GO RIGHT AHEAD :D

[nothinicantkill]

[Cable goes right inside, the door unlocked. Basket found, he opens the jar and finds blackberries, ripe and juicy. Having no idea what they are, he shrugs and eats the handful. They're goddamn delicious. His shirt, and the skin underneath, stop dissolving. A red bead forms where the skin was, and the shirt is destroyed. He doesn't seem to mind.]

[He offers the jar to Logan.]

These are fucking fantastic. You should have some.

[danzan]

[ Cable eats like a kid.

It's a little jarring (no pun intended), but Logan watches it happen with surprised eyes that get even wider when the jar is held out to him.

God, he's never going to be able to say no to fruit, though.

So he gets a handful of his own, eating it, and though the pleasure on his face isn't obvious, the hair on his skin stands and his eyes soften just a little in simple, childish pleasure.

Maybe Logan eats like a kid, too. ]

I got strawberry jam in mine. [ He sucks his fingers clean. ]