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

Reaper | Overwatch

[no_reload]

➸ Hocus Pocus; Be a Doll, won't you?

[Haunted house? What a joke. Of course, he would ignore the warning, not entirely used to this type of place. The haunted house had simply seemed a good place to settle down and find a dark corner to lurk in while he took in his surroundings, so what was the point of not opening a door and taking a look around? The girl in the television? What a waste as he wraithed through her attacks and simply disappeared to the next room.

Dolls. Oh please. He had lived so of his life viewing horror movies. Now he had become one in his own right.

The first attack caught his trench coat but did little damage to his body. It was enough to earn his attention even as he moved through the room until he was in the direct middle of it. And then he waited for them to come so that he could smash them to bits and pieces with claws, fists, boots and even shattered parts of themselves when they became available. Destroying them with an easy pleasure, laughing maniacally as he did so. They were just stupid dolls made to be broken!

Their screams reminded him of different times, harder times. He reveled in them now, not even bothering to pull out his Hellfire Shotguns. This required a far more personal touch. This house thought it could haunt him? Well, it would come to regret that very notion and he would tear it apart doll by doll.

Once they were all smashed up and his wounds smoked from where they had managed to needle at him pathetically, he took a moment to dust the shards of porcelain from his coat and adjusted his hood. Well now, wasn't that worth the entire trip, hmm?

He stalked forward and moved to kick open the next door.]

There had better be something more worth my time.

➸ The Mash; Eat a Bullet instead.

[There was a time where attending Halloween parties was expected, where everyone had a rather good time admiring or teasing one another of their costumes. There was a time when he had enjoyed himself in such festivities, where the smiles were easy, the laughs hearty, and telling ghost stories came naturally. Halloween might have even been considered his favourite holiday of sorts, way back when the world wasn't turned on its head.

Now, he was a ghost story, a whisper on the wind.

Well, in places other than here, of course. No one seemed to consider his attire to be anything more than blending in with the residents enjoying themselves, the festivities and the food. There happened to even be a comment or two ("Great costume!" and "Wow, if you came out of the shadows, you'd be a real scare!" and "Did you make that yourself?"). Indeed; If I came out of the shadows, there wouldn't be enough of you to find; Mind your own business.

He was using the fact this was Halloween to his advantage, moving through the gathered people to investigate and listen in on conversation. It was crude, not like how he operated with Talon, but one couldn't overcome the adversity of this place either. It was stifling, but this was one holiday where he blended in perfectly wearing what he was most comfortable in. However, aside from drunken idiots, hugging, people telling others how wonderful they are (Disgusting) and general conversation, there didn't seem like there would be much to find.

Perhaps he would be more entertained in the haunted house. Give some people a real scare.

He pushed through people, avoiding others from bumping into him far too easily as if he simply wraithed around them and carried on. If anyone could come here, he was looking for familiar faces. Perhaps someone to take out the boredom on.]

Hey Mister, do you want a Latte?

[He turned his head and offered only a dark rumbling chuckle.] Do you want burns?

➸ Wildcard; He's Mr. Pumpkinhead!

[He's not horrible enough in the prompts? By all means, find a means to bother him. Also, I'm sorry he's terrible, and I'm also very new at this muse. Mostly not sorry he's terrible (but kind of am). Also, blame Deadpool for him being here at all. I will match reply style be it prose or action.]

the mash

[gaylic]

[ Parties were hard to avoid when they were nearly everywhere. Moira had gotten tired of the children who had been running through the corn fields out by her home and was instead had been trying to find some kind of peace and quiet in the town. She should have known these festivities had yet to cease.

This town took Halloween far too seriously.

She'd expected the same snacks, the same hard cider, and it had been tasty enough that she had pushed her way through the crowds to get to some of them, only to overhear that familiar voice in response to an offer of something so simple. She'd turned almost immediately, thankful he wasn't exactly hard to find, and gave a laugh. ]

That's the holiday spirit.

[ What's a hi, how you doin, when did you get here between two old... uhh... friends? ]

[no_reload]

[In many instances, there was no need to hide. In this place, at this particular celebration of things that go bump in the night, he blended into the surroundings for the vast majority of people who assumed his outfit was related to the holiday. Anyone that had the misfortune to cross paths with him would, of course, recognize him. He wasn't actually bothering to hide.

Using the situation to his advantage was something that he was best at. And killing people and omnics of course. He had many, many years of experience with both.

Slowly he turned his head at the very familiar voice, eyeing Moira from over the heads of the people separating them. He let a group of children run passed before he purposefully shouldered an adult drinking some pumpkin monstrosity out of his way. He swaggered over to her, tilting his head one way and then the other as he considered her.

Maybe this place wasn't so bad.]

This is the best holiday. Are you taking mental notes or just spiking the food for science?

[gaylic]

[ Her eyes had flickered towards the townsperson that stumbled and ended up with a bright orange stain across his sweater, before looking back to Reyes' with more than a slightly amused smirk tugging at her lips. Whatever entertainment she'd felt she'd been lacking due to how painfully good people were in this place, she was fairly certain that he could make up for it ten fold. ]

Where else would I get such a wide range of test subjects so easily? [ A joke that held some small irony, considering she knew full well that the food was actually spiked, and wasn't the one responsible for it.

Unfortunately. ]

At least you don't have to worry about a costume. Though perhaps you ought to get a hat, try and be more festive. [ A sombrero, maybe, and a guitar. ]

:| don't you game reference costumes at me

[no_reload]

[He glanced around at the people enjoying themselves despite the fact that there was apparently something very wrong with this place. The house for one, though it had aspects of being corny and stupid while others were... something more sinister. He had an instinct for nastiness, so he understood that they weren't here just for the merriment.

He still grunted as his head turned as he looked at people.] Pathetic test base from this point of view. Don't drop your standards even for this kind of riff-raff. [Or maybe they could be made better because they were riff-raff. Or just because they were happy and probably deserved to be miserable.]

What would you know about festive?

mariachi reaper is a blessing i will let no one forget

[gaylic]

I'd be sorely limited in my options if I didn't. The dreamers in this place aren't particularly sympathetic to the pursuit of knowledge. [ She rolled her eyes slightly as she made the statement. Something about the poor ethics of asking people to die for scientific research.

Cowards.

She went to pluck one of the hard ciders she'd been ignoring since she first heard him speak. ]

I'm Irish. It's in my blood to be festive. [ Says the woman wearing no costume, partaking in no parties, and having previously been talking to absolutely no one. She takes a sip of the drink as if that somehow proves how spirited she is. ]

he would be better if he stopped and played his guitar in a match

[no_reload]

What are they sympathetic to? Something worth exploiting? [Of all the people here, he would trust her opinion to assess the situation. He would also actually believe much of what she said, though he never took anyone at face value without looking into matters personally. In that, Moira had an edge over... well, anyone.

He also knew that she would be on the look out for people to test the next theory on. Willingness was likely optional.

He ignored food and drink. He wasn't taking off his mask for such paltry reasons; he also didn't trust it not to cause... well, there were definitely effects if those two people professing how much they like each other was any case.]

Where's your kilt? Left it at the last party?

Hocus Pocus

[barmherzig]

[ After living in Deerington for a number of months she would have thought herself smarter than to end up in a haunted house searching for a way out. Still, this place had a way of drawing you in without you even realizing that you had landed yourself in a bad situation. Either way Angela had found herself in the house and on her own. She had been able to handle the rooms well enough, but when she had entered the room with the book it was a welcome break.

At first when she felt a presence in the room, her spirits lifted. It was always a welcome change to not have to fight alone. Wasn't it? Perhaps not always because as the person came closer relief was replaced by dread as it sunk into her that they really looked like one of the dangerous haunted house attractions. Then it hit her that this was someone who she was very familiar with and not necessarily in a good way.

Reaper. A notorious villain from her own home world. And Moira's words echoed in her head: Reaper was Grabriel Reyes. Either this was a trick or he was actually walking into the same room she was in, with intention that she would never be able to guess. Her heart was pounding in her chest but she wasn't going to run from him. Standing tall she came out into the light, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. ]

Are you real?

[no_reload]

[In the next room that he half stomped, half glided into, he found that he wasn't alone. For a moment, he thought that she was someone that would likely need breaking like the dolls in the previous room, but he recognized her almost instantly. Unless this was a figment of his imagination playing tricks on him, he figured that she was real enough.

After all, if his mind was going to set him against someone with actual skill to challenge him, it wouldn't be the good Doctor. It wasn't that he underestimated her skill with a pistol any more than her healing wand, but she was far less likely to pull a gun on him than say... Morrison or Amari. Which could be part of the trap.

However, if her expression was anything to go on, she was as uncertain of him as he was of her. That made him bold as he kicked the door shut behind him and stalked until she either gave ground or he was an inch from coming into direct contact with her.]

What's your diagnosis this time, Doc? Do I seem real? Or maybe just a ghost? [As if to emphasize the possibility, his physical form seemed to dissolve at the edges, pulling away from his main body and sinking to the floor, only to pull back into his feet.]

[barmherzig]

[ There had been a time when she was much younger where Gabriel was such a hero in her eyes. She had felt welcomed and cared for by the group of them at a time when she was desperate for family and a place to belong. Overwatch had been that for her and she had looked up to them as she developed her own identity in the medical and science fields. There had been so many good times and she remembered them clearly. Oh she remembered the bad times too and the downfall of everything and the crushing grief that had followed. This place was cruel to bring them face to face again like this.

Angela couldn't be sure that he wouldn't come after her and the way he approached her made her wonder if he could be the biggest threat in this entire haunted house. She had her gun on her and she would defend herself if need be, but she sincerely doubted that she could ever win against him. She could only hope that he didn't want to bring her any harm. There was a confidence in her voice when she responded that tried to cover her nerves.]

I have been stuck in this nightmare world for three months now. More than. I would believe anything. That being said you look real enough Gabriel.

[ Her eyes followed him like a hawk as he approached and she felt much like a small mouse being hunted. She'd been let in on the information that he was trying to find all the agents and she was pretty sure that he wasn't searching for them for a big family reunion. At that point she almost missed the company of the wet dead girl who had come out of the television. She stood taller than in hopes of making herself seem at least somewhat intimidating. Though the guardian angel was really anything but. ]

That is close enough don't you think?

[no_reload]

[If there was anything that he had perfected since the fall of Overwatch, it was how to strike fear into other people. There had to be a certain degree of it in Blackwatch, but after the fall, he had taken the time to perfect it. He knew how to move, how to tilt his head, flex his claws but mostly, it was in the way one held their body slightly leaning forward and invaded space. People gave ground to confidence.

And of course, he remembered them all. She was on the list, but, fortunately for her, she was at the bottom of it. Her contributions to medicine and the constant need to save someone was a worthwhile quality that kept her breathing. Plus, she was elusive. Clearly, the soldiers had taught her well in that regard.

His identity wasn't exactly... known as far as he knew. That she straight out called him by Gabriel made his shoulders twitch and his hands clench at his sides.]

Gabriel who? [He mocked it, a rumbling chuckle leaving him. Still, it was... unfortunate that she knew.] You always end up in the mud with the pigs somehow, Doc. It's a nasty habit of yours.

[He tilted his head, sighting the book behind her. Was that the reason they were in this room? He side stepped around her, practically dissolving to pass to her back and moved towards the book.]

Not much for the reading material here? [Let her see his open broad back, figure out what she would do with opportunity to put a bullet into it.]

[barmherzig]

[ If he had hoped that she would cave to this new identity of his. If he wanted to stay in the shadows of night and adopt a villainous persona that was all well and good, but to her he would always be Gabriel. In her defense it was in her personality to keep people tied to their humanity and remind them of who they were. Faced with him, she wanted to acknowledge that he was still Gabriel to her. If she hadn't found out through one of the events this place had thrust upon them, she would have only known him as a Talon member who wanted to wreak havoc. She wasn't about to relay her sources though.

She let out a sigh. ] You know exactly who you are. And you are right, I do have a nasty habit of falling into the wrong crowd. [ She was connected to everyone in Blackwatch and had at one time considered many of them friends. ] Perhaps it is because I know you all too well.

[ When he turned around she felt a small bubble of relief fill her. She wasn't about to shoot him in the back but she was also not about to let him see hers in case he wouldn't show her the same consideration. ]

This doesn't strike me as the best time to sit down and enjoy a novel. They could have at least offered wine.

[no_reload]

[How far could he push this? Too many people would likely look upon him and t'sk at how far he had fallen. He was supposed to be dead after all, blown up with nothing left to put in the ground. Of course, the same could be said about more than a few people, but fortunately he had corrected a few of this little glitches in the system. Would she believe that he had amnesia? Brainwashed maybe? PTSD that forced him into a fugue state to escape the reality of his hideous form?

All of those could be mildly entertaining. He doubted she would believe any of them, or if she did, he figured she would just try to 'fix' the situation. What a joke. He didn't need fixing.]

Thankfully the wrong crown is mostly dead or dying. That will let you mingle with a new one soon enough. [He planned on killing every last one of them on his list after all.] What could you possibly know about me?

[He moved closer to the book, examining it. Likely nothing good would come of touching it. There were too many terrible horror movies surrounding such events and after murdering all the dolls in the previous room, he was not looking to be cursed or whatever else might happen here.]

There's plenty of red in the last room, if you need some. [Doll blood that was.]

the mash

[natalia_vdova]

I do like the costume.

[Declares a redhead that's been watching the way that he moves through the crowd. They've been doing much the same thing in honesty, but Natasha's much less obtrusive about it, doesn't stick out so much as she slips through the gathering. But she's looking for interesting people, and the man in black that sometimes seems to hardly be there at all, to waft away on a breeze when people get too close?

That's attention-getting to someone like her, who was always aware of SHIELD's list, who knew what people with abilities looked like. And well, she notices the fact that underneath his coat it looks like he's wearing bodyarmor, the ammo straps on his hips. Someone who could handle himself, she wagered, probably hadn't had too much trouble with the haunted house.

She's in her bodysuit herself, the blood having cleaned off, if it had even been there in the first place. This place felt... real and unreal all at once. It was a rather disconcerting sensation. Especially to someone like her.]

Death with a shotgun does have a certain charm.

[She's sipping at a glass of cider, seeming more amused than anything else. Though there's a certain sharpness to her blue eyes, something that says predator more than prey, even if her figure, that easy smile usually pulls people off the mark.]

[no_reload]

[Slowly he turned his head at the comment, viewing the individual in question who had clearly been watching him. She had a sharp eye from where he was standing, since most people passed off the small subtleties of his abilities and his costume as a trick of the light, a mingling of the dark leather that kept him just gliding around people with natural motion.

How much had she seen? How much did he care? Well the answer to both of those questions was likely completely opposite.

He issued a low growling hum as he considered her and the fact that she was drinking anything that this party had to offer. It seemed like an unnecessary risk, but then again, he was new to this place and trusted literally nothing. He had no reason to be proven wrong or paranoid for his lack of trust as well.

He appraised her, noting the body suit and how it clung to her feminine figure. She reminded him of the Widowmaker, putting feminine wiles on display to lure someone unsuspected individual in, only to make them regret that decision. He suspected she was very good at putting on display that which she wanted others to know and little else.]

What's your costume supposed to be?

[His voice was a low growl, not showing particular interest but then again, when did he ever anymore?]

I wouldn't know. I'm generally doing the shooting, but those in my path don't seem to be particularly charmed by it.

Hocus Pocus: This could get messy...

[almightythirst]

[ Jesse looks up from the jar in his hand when he hears the door to the room crash open. He’s sporting a few cuts from his own “playtime” with the dolls, though he had personally enjoyed it a lot less than... some people. His time among the shelves had involved a lot less actual destruction and a whole lot more foul language. He's got limited ammo after all, and the things were everywhere.

Given that debacle, he’s taking a cautious approach to this seemingly peaceful space. It doesn’t look like there’s much going on inside, but… well, Jesse has been here a while. He’s as used to the weirdness of Deerington as one can be. Hence checking the jars for anything useful (and being completely unsurprised by the rotting contents).

He’s expecting another lost wanderer- or at the worst, a rogue doll- but the sight of the man who is actually on the other side of that door sends his blood running cold.

No. No way in hell this place is doing this to him again. Only it’s a whole facsimile this time and not just a voice echoing from an R.L. Stine-esque parrot. Was this the room’s trick? Did it dig around in your head until it found something personal it could use against you? Typical. ]

You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.

[ Jesse doesn’t wait until he’s done talking to whip Peacekeeper back out. The moment the last word is out of his mouth, the first bullet of three is already out of the chamber and aimed straight at the center of Reaper’s chest. ]

[ OOC: Actual image of Jesse rn. Also, welcome to the TDM! ]

[no_reload]

[Storming into rooms unannounced with par for the course, always had been when it came to him. He generally would do so with back up, but what was the point of that in a place like this which could barely mount any kind of assault on him in the first place? Broken, bleeding dolls were left in his wake as he stormed into the next room, his boots leaving bloody marks on the floor as he entered and his eyes drank in the sight of the next room.

Well, well, maybe something worth his time? Could a place like this pull people from his mind's eye and put in front of him as if that might stop his assault? It seemed, based on the reaction that McCree was having the same thought as he was. Well, he had taught that ingrate a thing or two.

Shooting first and not bothering to ask questions wasn't entirely one of them. They were better at suppression first, but then again, McCree could be such a hot head. Some men just never learned, but it wouldn't matter. He could play with this vision or man easily. He would hate to get bored.

When the familiar Peacekeeper six-shooter was pulled on him, he wasn't surprised. He forced himself to go stock still as if in shock though, allowing his chest to turn to mist form so the bullet passed harmlessly through him, but reformed again immediately so the ruse to be maintained. He lifted his hands to his chest and issued a low growling sound.]

Ah! You got me...!

[He stumbled dramatically to the side like in those old Westerns he had seen and been bored by. Then he straightened and issued a low gravelly chuckle as his hands went to his coat where he pulled out his Hellfire shotguns, and he stalked forward, letting loose two 'warning' shots, which meant he was completely aiming to kill if McCree couldn't get out of the way.]

You look like you've seen a ghost. You shoot like you think you can kill one.

[almightythirst]

[ Jesse knows better: he drops like a stone the moment Reaper's hand goes for his weapon. He's seen the security footage. He's familiar with Reaper's MO, if only in the most basic sense. The man- or creature, whatever he is now- never flinched away from direct gunfire. Neither did he hesitate to respond in kind. Jesse had spent more time than he would have liked to admit watching those tapes. Looking for old, familiar patterns. Looking for anything familiar at all, once he'd realized what it was he was looking at.

In any case, Jesse had known all of that that, yet he'd still fired and wasted three bullets. He makes a mental note to kick himself for that later. It shouldn't matter how rattled he is. He's better than that. ]

You always did take Halloween way too seriously, [ he quips through gritted teeth, rolling to the side and up into a crouch. He's not in a good position: the wall to his left, the nearest unoccupied exit at his back. The room is small with little to no coverage. Jesse swallows back a growl of frustration. This illusion in front of him obviously still has a bite, despite not being real. And Jesse's only weapon is helpless against it. Bad odds all around. ]

Go on, make another bad joke. I'll even give you a freebie. 'Dead man walking' ain't half bad.

[no_reload]

[McCree had always moved well, quick on the draw and quick to roll out of the line of fire. While he might acknowledge his once protege had some skill, they would be useless in a place like this. The small room made it a tactical advantage for him; he had always enjoyed being up close and personal. Sniping with for Widowmaker. He carved a path of destruction where he could see the whites of another man's eyes.

He moved further into the room, using the lack of space to his advantage in order to close. He used his body to block the doorway as well, not about to let his new prey escape. McCree might not be part of Overwatch anymore, but he was of the opinion that they had a few matters to settle by gunpoint anyway.]

Best holiday. Scaring kids and adults alike. I'm at my best when I'm in my element. What's your excuse, ingrate? [He tracked McCree's motions with one shotgun, ready to use the other to force the other man into motion to line up a better shot.]

More like dead man thrashing around like a hooked fish. Don't you get bored rolling in the dirt?

[almightythirst]

“Was born in the dirt, boss, and I ain’t never claimed otherwise. But you already know all about that.”

The title-turned-nickname feels like poison on Jesse’s tongue now, and he spits it out accordingly. He’s been through worse in Deerington, but he still hates this entire situation with a sort of deep, searing anger that nothing else has been able to elicit yet. There are so many things he would want to say to the actual Reaper. So many things he wanted to know.

To have the possibility of that all dangled in front of him, knowing it’s an illusion and nothing more…

Jesse breathes in deep, in through his nose and out through his mouth. If he doesn’t hurry up and focus, he’s going to be the only dead man in the room soon. And not the walking kind either.

“Don’t know why we’re even havin’ this chat. Not like you’re real,” he drawls with a deceptively relaxed tone, the gears still turning in the back of his mind while he stalls. There has to be something in here he can use. He just needs a flash of inspiration, some time, and a fuckton of luck. “This place sure does love its mind games, don’t it?”

the mash

[vermillon]

[Perhaps it's best a certain Miqo'te is nearby and has such large, good ears to be able to catch that conversation, because he hears the thinly-veiled threat, understands it for what it is, and knows he really should intervene. He weaves through the crowd of people without touching another body with his in-born agility, until he pats the young lady on the shoulder.]

There's no need for that! [The skin around his eyes crinkle as he smiles, and begins to shoo the girl away.] Go on lass, mayhap there's another who would like a drink elsewhere. Leave the gentleman be, aye?

[Leave the gentleman to me, he means.

And X'rhun looks up, the smile still on his face, the softness of his clothing and the lightly swaying tail behind him making him look entirely benign. Well, if it weren't for the rapier hanging from his belt, he would have looked like an entirely harmless cat-like person.]

A newcomer, are you?

[no_reload]

[He expected the child to head off without any intervention, as his point was rather obvious in the strong 'no' kind of way. But of course some well meaning individual thought to step in as if he might actually dump a cup of hot beverage on a kid. Actually, depending on his mood, he definitely had the capacity and potential.

He wasn't at all intimidated by the cat man that decided to show up. Instead, he seemed to lose interest almost immediately, set to ease to the edge of the crowd of mingling people and going about his business investigating the township itself now that everyone was content to party.]

Nice costume, but go away. [Pleasantries had very much stopped being his strong suit. Most of his greetings started with a shotgun blast after all.]

[vermillon]

'Tis not a costume, so your statement wouldn't apply to myself!

[Such cheer for a man who's just been insulted, but then again, he's always been so cheerful, no matter who he's looking up at, and his tail continues to sway softly behind him, though lowered. He is ready for a fight, should one break out.

Though he hopes that wont be the case.]

And... [X'rhun tilts his head, one ear flicking.] I think I shan't leave.

Someone must ward the well-meaning populace from you, I believe.

[no_reload]

I can't say that I care either way.

[For all the cheer, he figured this was going to turn into a fight one way or another. Things always ended in a fight, and this place in particular seemed intent on driving them all to combat or insanity. He had one of those under his belt already, and he hardly resisted the pull of the other.

He glanced over at the cat-boy and shrugged his shoulders, walking a few steps away.]

Good, then I will. Stay here and watch over the flock. I'll see what skeletons they keep in their closets.

[Literally and figuratively.]

[vermillon]

[Kill them with a smile. That's something X'rhun has done much in the past both literally and metaphorically.

And he's not about to stop now, though he hopes he wont have to draw his blade.]

Mm. [X'rhun follows anyway-- he's never been good at following orders, more of a man who gave them, in his younger days. His tail raises just a little, a relaxed curve to its end.]

And what shall you do once you find such things that are not meant to be seen by others?