Sodder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sodder) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
soddersays2018-09-30 12:01 am
sodder) wrote in soddersays2018-09-30 12:01 am
Entry tags:
October 2018 Test Drive Meme
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!
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.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.)
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.
no subject
I'm not being ridiculous! I'm being a superhero! We take care of the little guy! [ If only he knew he was talking to Spider-Man. ] Ask like, any superhero, it's our duty to make sure everyone else is okay first. [ His hands move but this time it's to grab Peter's and then oop, bring both of his wrists together so Wade can hold them in one hand for a moment and his free hand can SPIN!!!! ] I'm not the one that needs help, Petey. Well. Actually that's really debatable, but, not in this situation.
[ He hopes he buys the superhero spiel because he is 100% bullshitting. He's just trying to mimic Captain America. ]
no subject
Okayokayokay! Stop with the spinning.
I'll get the shirt off myself while you get — whatever the hell's in here for first aid.
But then it's your turn.
[He turns away and huffs IN ANNOYANCE!!!!! But okay, fiiiine, be annoying. He can handle getting a shirt off on his own; he's been Spider-Man for eight years and has done it before, a-thank-you. Totally got this stuff under control. Unbuttoning and removing the lumberjack flannel's easy enough, and when he's in the process of removing the undershirt he says as a distraction to the burn in his shoulder and back:]
... What was your name again?
no subject
Deadpool. You can call me Wade though. On account of us totally being bffs now. [ Wade does as he's instructed, looking through the room for anything that might help. ... All he really finds is a rag that looks clean and what he has in his pouches. Dora the Explorer band-aids and super-glue. Sometimes he has to glue a finger back on... so sue him.
When he returns to Peter, he's managed to get his shirts off and Wade stands there a bit awkwardly. ] Holy back-muscles, Batman. [ What the fuck. ] Right. [ STOP OOGLING. ] Right. This is gonna hurt, probably a little I mean maybe a lot I don't know your pain tolerance. [ Are those nervous rambles??? ]
no subject
Jeez, you just never let up; you're as bad as Felicia is.]
Uh. Going to the gym'll do that for you.
[And totally not a random mutant spiderbite that makes you magically buff overnight. But let's not focus on the details. He glances over his shoulder, wincing a little but otherwise keeping it pretty together, for someone who has something sticking out of their back. He supposes he should be more wigged out — even a blade this should could do some major damage if they used it in the right spot.
(... Those big muscles help, of course. More cushion. Ha.)
He's been stabbed plenty the last eight years. He just makes a fist and clenches it until it hurts, since that's a great way to do mind over matter.]
You're not getting squeamish, are you? You need a pep talk? C'mon.
[Look, he's being nice and trying to ease your nerves.]
no subject
I wouldn't know.
[ He sighs behind his mask before stepping closer. ] I'm pretty sure squeamish isn't in my dictionary anymore. [ His hand finds the blade, before carefully yanking it out in one quick movement. It's dropped to the floor with a clatter before the rag is pressed against it to keep too much blood for pooling out everywhere. ] Just trying to figure out how to do this without a needle and thread or a stapler. [ He holds the rag there as he digs through one of the pouches around his waist.
It takes him a moment to get the cap off. ]
This is the part that's gonna suck. I'm sorry. You're definitely going to want to keep an eye on this and make sure it doesn't get infected but....
[ Oh, hey Peter, that sure is the bloodied rag being draped over his other shoulder as Wade pinches the wound closed with his fingers and then dollops a good amount of superglue into the stab, trying to hold it closed. ] Yep, that burns right. Why'd you want to know my name? [ Aw, he's trying to distract him from the pain too. ] Need to know what to put my number under? [ .... Okay, no he's still flirting. ]
no subject
Obviously too distracted by the absolutely flawless skin that has never seen a scar, apparently. Obviously this guy can't be a superhero, if he doesn't have a single solitary scar, right?]
... Are you — gluing a tiny hole in my back shut? With super glue?
[Yes it burns, thanks for asking.]
no subject
Tiny? Did you see how deep that was, or how much blood was coming out? No, because you don't have eyes on the back of your head.
[ !!! Wow, you've offended him!!!! ] My methods are tried and tested. [ Give it about a minute and, yep, okay, time to slap Dora on that bitch. He's glad he didn't actually glue himself to Peter or his fingers together. Wade closes the glue, slipping it back from whence it came, only to withdraw a bandaid. ] My last Dora the Explorer bandaid. For you.
[ He struggles with getting the wrapping off. Dropping it on the floor carelessly when he finally gets the bandaid free. ] Good as new. [ He mumbles as he sticks the bandaid over the glue filled stab wound. ] You'll be back to the gym and lifting weights in no time.
no subject
........
Dude.
I'm not about to piss off any additional spirits in here with litter in their dojo.
[Before he even worries about putting his shirt back on, Peter turns, bends, and... picks up the trash Wade drops to put in his pocket. Yes, he really did just do that. Now he can feel at ease.
Wade's greeted by a puckered patch of swollen skin on Peter's shoulder for just a split moment; it's swathed in all kinds of colorful bruises around the remains of a puncture mark that has closed up and had been cleared of stitches. It would at least serve as a nice clue to why Peter's not too bothered by the blade that had been sticking out of his back.
Then he turns away and starts the process of re-dressing himself.]
You gonna let me help with those now, or what?
no subject
What happened to your shoulder? [ Sorry, were you saying things Peter? Give Wade a moment to reboot. ]
-- wait, did you seriously just pick up trash because you're afraid of another ghost? We totally kicked Samara's ass.
[ There we go, that's back to normal, Wade chatting away. His head tips to the side as he watches Peter redress himself, he'd probably realise that was creepy if it weren't for the fact that he was lost in his own thoughts about how to deal with the knives in him. If he pulls them out, they'll bounce to Peter. He doesn't exactly want to cut their meeting short though. Though he figures Peter does. Maybe he could con him into some apology diner fries. Would a diner let him in with knives in him? ]
no subject
[Peter says, his face squished against shirt fabric as he struggles it back over his head. Phew — worst part over. He starts re-buttoning his dumb flannel and seems to be — uh, blowing right past that lame-ass explanation with bravado.]
More like a video machine did the ass-kicking, while we drowned. And judging from the dolls that went full-Chucky on us, I think it's better to be safe than sorry. So stop touching stuff in here, huh?
[Oh great, he's back to Mr. Teacher lecturing mode.
... He frowns a little when he realizes he missed a button hole on his shirt, and starts unbuttoning it to re-button it again. The endless struggle, he swears to god.]
no subject
Wade lifts a hand, flapping a wrist at him. ] No, that was totally our win. We kicked her ass and you can't take that from us. Sure. I stopped breathing for a second and you were almost drowned.
[ He turns to look around the room. He kinda did some touching when he was looking for stuff to use. ] Scout's honour. [ Look he's even raising his hand like he means it. ] Seltzer and lemon juice to get the blood out of your shirt.
no subject
[Hey, look at that — he had that all pre-planned and everything, because he didn't want to face what happened back home anyway... Not that he planned for the injury to come up at all, because — well, to be honest, he'd forgotten about it with the knives and ghosts and all that jazz. He eyes Wade skeptically for a moment.
Is he really gonna act like...?
Ugh. He clears his throat. Loudly.]
So, can I throw out your knife collection now, or what?
no subject
He also doubts that a crowbar stabbing would bruise like that. Wade can't quite decide if he's a battered boyfriend/husband, one of Wade's own victims, or someone who tussled with the wrong mutant. But sure, he'll accept it for now.
It doesn't help that Peter's moving the subject along like he doesn't want to talk about it. ]
No. It's mine. [ Wade eyes him, like he's not sure if he should be putting space between them or not. ] You can't have them. [ Actually... He might keep them, they'd be good for stabbing people while he doesn't have his swords or knives, besides, how hilarious would it be to stab bad guys with doll knives? ]
no subject
... Into an annoying subject.
He squints so hard at him. SO HARD.]
... I let you handle mine. Now this is the part where we handle yours.
You're not gonna seriously wander around covered in doll knives.
no subject
No, this is the part where you be a good rescuee and thank me for patching you up and telling me how great I am and how I'm now your favourite superhero.
[ He's humble. ]
Because I am gonna seriously wander around covered in doll knives.
no subject
[HANDS THROWN UP, THIS IS SO RIDICULOUS THAT I'M ARGUING WITH YOU.]
You're being totally unreasonable here!
If you heal, it'll only take a minute to make you good as new! Are you worried I'm gonna turn on you and use you like a pincushion? Because I gotta say, I've been working my butt off to make sure you don't super die, so that makes absolutely zero sense. Is there something here you're not being honest with me about?
no subject
I wasn't worried about that, but now I am. [ ... Wait. WAIT. ] What do you mean you've been working your butt off to make sure I don't super die? [ He crosses his arms over his chest, looking like an overgrown petulant child. ] My healing factor is weird here. What do you mean you've been working your butt off to make sure I don't super die?
[ Ruh roh, Peter. Explain yourself!!!! ] I've been making sure you don't die!
no subject
I didn't know you even healed in the first place! I was just trying to help someone out who I thought was in a crappy situation like me — one he started, sure, but I wasn't about to let you croak on my watch!
How am I supposed to know what's weird or not here?
[He points at him.]
... And for the record, you made this a life and death thing. Not me.
I was actually listening to the ominous signs. You act like you've never seen a single horror movie in your entire life!
no subject
Me croaking wouldn't be on your watch! [ How dare you sound more like a superhero than him???? He's the one in the suit here!!!!! ] And I did croak on your watch! I stopped breathing! And NONE OF THIS was on your watch anyway because it was MY watch!
[ !!!!!!!! ]
Fine, be mad at me for that, you're allowed. [ Why is he suddenly so mad!!!! Oh, wow, okay, well, the 6'2" dude is definitely storming up to Peter like he's ready to throw down. Not that he has any intention of actually throwing down. ] I've seen plenty of horror movies! I thought it would be FUN.
no subject
[You cannot measure the stress in the higher octave he hits there. But hey, he has great experience with not backing away from people taller than him. Kingpin is a good one; you should try standing up close and personal with that cupcake. He instead folds his arms and huffs, not moving away from the grumpy masked hero(?).] And I got stabbed in the back, so I'll have to say — no, this isn't that fun—!
[Also you're really close and all up in his grill, so—
He's gonna reach out and try to pull a cute teeny pitchfork out of your forearm.]
no subject
[ He's beyond offended, offended was thirty five miles back. ] It wasn't your watch! It was mine. And It worked!!! [ Peter's not the only one raising in octaves. If there are any ghosts in here, they definitely know these two are here.
He's more menacing when he has his weapons. God, he really misses Bea and Arthur and Shooty and Bang Bang and Stabby and Hugh. ] It was fun before you got stabbed in the back!
Stop trying to take my knife collection, it'll only end badly for you! [ Is that a threat? Sorta... But not exactly. ] AND IT WASN'T YOUR WATCH. Stop superhero cockblocking me!
1/2
no subject
[He side-steps him and starts walking, at the end of a magical rope.
It's getting more and more obvious this is not an ordinary civilian for Spider-Man to over-see, especially with how absolutely impossible the dude is. And superhero? More like supertired, thanks — Deadpool can obviously handle things.]
You want me to stop cramping your style, I'm more than happy to go do my own thing; you can be a superhero over here, and I'll just go on ahead this way. [Wow, Wade, he's not scared of you or your brick. Figures. He's really actually giving you a cold shoulder now. Oh, how life imitates art.
Also oh no, you annoyed a civilian into ditching you for any potential danger ahead.
Your superheroing is failing terribly, Wade Wilson.]
no subject
This place made my healing factor weird. Whenever I heal from something it bounces the injuries back on whoever I'm around. [ At least, he's pretty sure that's what's happening.
He's definitely not going to let Peter wander into potential danger without him. ] I heal. It hurts you. [ Does it suddenly make sense why he's not wanting to take those out? They do hurt, and he is grumpy because he's being shouted at while he has a bunch of weapons embedded in him. ]
no subject
Turns slowly.
Surprisingly, he just looks worried now; so much for having something to aim that ire at. Granted, a small sliver of him is annoyed — but mostly just worried, as is his usual method of handling just about anything regarding someone else's health and wellbeing.]
... Why didn't you just say that?
[He wouldn't have pushed for it so hard, and that much is implied in the placated tone.
Geez, Wade.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
why am i even tagging u i hate u
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)