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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(Margaery was not always an honest women. She knew that in her world, honesty would lead to your head on a spike stuck up on some ugly wall. That was not how she planned to go out. But so many people were convinced that liars made evil souls, but she didn't think that was exactly so. Lying could get you from point A to point B and help all of the people in between. When Margaery was queen, she had dreams of ruling with a rose in one hand, and thorns in the other. She wanted to be loved by the Seven Kingdoms.

Even now, separated from Westeros by leagues of space and time she couldn't even begin to comprehend, she walked with the intention of ruling the ground beneath her feet. Some people are just bred for that. But her rule wasn't selfish. She had genuine, honest feelings tucked under all that skill in manipulation. One of those honest feelings had to do directly with children.

They were robbed the most often in life, and despite her status, she knew that very well. She could care less about getting covered in shit and piss, fleas and maggots, so long as it meant being able to reach out to even one child to help them. Her charity work looked good, certainly, but it wasn't a front. So when Queen Margaery saw little Bill Denbrough sitting by himself in this loud, confusing place, it was a simple choice for her.

She suddenly wished she was in a less elaborate gown, without her crown maybe, and with a more modest hairstyle. But no matter. It is what it is. There were ways to approach a commoner without making them feel like a commoner. She came strolling out of the crowds, by passing drunken men ambling past, one tripping over her skirt, but she paid no mind even as there was a mild tear she could hear. Things could be fixed. Little boys could not. Finally, she came upon him, and she didn't make eye-contact, but instead gingerly seated herself on the sidewalk just a few feet from him, bending her knees politely to one side and angling her feet out so that she could take off her shoes with a sigh.)

I was beginning to think that everyone was dressed up some strange creature or another. (She smiles his way, though she only does so casually, not honing in on him. Some children did not like that.)

I hope you don't mind me sitting here. My feet are awfully sore. (Not even remotely true, but she rubs her thumb into the arch of her foot all the same.) I've always been deeply envious of you boys and your flat shoes.

[ There was nothing in Bill's mind that would have doubted this lady was a queen. From the moment he saw her walk close, the way she carried herself even when sitting down on a sidewalk of all places, and how elegantly she had removed her shoes and spoken so clearly, it was pretty apparent that she was the Real Deal. He had seen a lot of strangely dressed people, though, considering it was a Halloween party, doing things that were easily associated with those costumes when he was pretty sure they should be impossible, so while there was a logical part somewhere in his brain that said the crown and the dress could just be making her act royal, he's still got enough of that childish wonder in his eyes for a moment as he stares at her.

Right up until he realizes he is and that that's rude and he snaps his attention back to the apple in his hands, twirling it on its stick and trying not to look too embarrassed. Why a lady like her was sitting close to him wasn't exactly something he could pin point good reasoning behind, but here she was, and here he was, and... That was all there was to it.

Oh boy. Don't fuck this up, Bill some inner voice is saying in his head, like it's somehow really important to make a good impression on a royal who has no power in a place like this. He might've been one of the more Adult kids in the Losers, but his logic was still very much that of a regular twelve year old boys.

He shakes his head when she asks if he minds, eyes glancing towards her shoes, then to her crown again, and finally back to his apple. ]

C-C-C-C-C-C-- [ Shit. Nerves would always be his downfall. ] Can't you j-j-j-just wuh-wear wuh-hutever y-y-you w-want? [ She's a Queen. Queens don't have to follow rules, right? ]

(Bless his soul by the old gods and the new, he was adorable. It isn't Margaery's first time experiencing someone with a stutter. Spending time with the poor often lead to all kinds of meetings with all kinds of people, and a stutter is far less distracting than some other things. There isn't a single bit of her posture or expression that insinuates she even notices the stutter. No pause, no furrow of her brows. She just keeps on digging her thumb into her foot until she felt a knot go loose.

Only then did she bring her hand into her lap, leaning onto the other so that she could properly look at this young boy. She wasn't at all stupid. It was clear the boy was nervous, but she just calmly smiled at him, trying to rely on one of her less intense smiles. Though she couldn't help herself when he finally gets the sentence out. Oh, she likes this one all right. Her nose crinkles up and her mouth goes crooked in a real smile.)

You're absolutely right. I should be able to wear what I want. (Or else what was the point of being a Queen? Bill's logic is a logic that Margaery firmly believed in herself. She shifts a little closer to him, leaning forward and lowering her voice, as though confiding in a very great secret with him. He may notice the smell of flowers. And no, not perfume. Real, honest to god flowers. Like she had them stashed somewhere on her person.)

Sometimes I do exactly that. (Whatever she wants, she means, and she kicks her foot up and wiggles her toes to indicate see? But the foot is lowered and she sits back.)

Sometimes, though, I wear such things for the sake of maintaining an appearance that would make the people I love most proud. I do it for them far more than I do it for myself. (It's the truth, really. Margaery did so love pretty garments and jewelry, but she didn't need them.)

But I do not believe those people are here right now, so off with the shoes. Thank you, by the way. For allowing me to sit here. That's very kind of you. (That was one thing she had learned a very long time ago. Even commoners appreciated having a say in something. Sure, most of them had to let a royal do this or that, but letting them know that it was appreciated? It went far.)