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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!

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

[Uuugh. He follows, looking entirely displeased with this situation.

But hey, isn't it nice that he looks so unhappy at your current predicament.]

You know I can take care of myself, right? I don't need magic healing and pet name skills to get myself through this. [Lord help him.] I pinky promise you, I manage just fine. If I survived college in New York and U.S. healthcare, I can survive a hellhouse.

[He'll let you lead. But also, he's gonna make faces at your back the whole goddamn time.]

I have eyes in the back of my head, I'll know if you're staring at my ass. [ Wade is TOTALLY ignoring that sulkfest Peter has going on. Even if it is ridiculously sweet that he wants to help. ]

Yeah, sure Mr. I Was Stabbed With a Crowbar. Seriously, who lets themselves get stabbed with a crowbar? A crowbar. But also, nice background plot point, I already knew you weren't jailbait though.

[ He opens the door with no hesitation, stepping out like he's expecting a shotgun blast or something. But it doesn't happen. Huh! Oh! Freedom!!!! He's not really paying attention to anything else, turning to look at Peter. ] I totally superhero'd us out of that shithole. Sure. I got us into that mess. But don't you feel closer. I accept kisses in thanks if you felt like it.

Uh-huh... Super close...

[But there's — this really obnoxiously long sense of danger (that annoyingly won't get stronger or weaker), so he sounds like he's barely listening to Wade as he steps past him and toward the rather... foggy landscape. Looking at these gravestones, it's easy to see even without the sharpest eye: they're much realer than the ones in the front yard.

He bends forward and raps his knuckles on the stone, lines thinning in a pensive frown.]

... Oh boy. And here I am, out of flowers.

[A pause, and—]

Stop staring at my butt.

[He feels your presence lingering.]

I'm appreciating, not staring. [ Does it sound like he's pouting under that mask? Because he totally is. Peter he thinks you're cute let him live. He hasn't even seen it in spandex yet. But he does apparently listen to the demand, since he starts moving closer to the graves. ] Now who's the one that isn't following horror story rules. [ He still keeps a bit of a distance, watching the graves and then moving to push his glove out of the way to look at his watch.

Then he's moving closer to both the gravestones and Peter. A hand moves to find the uninjured shoulder of the latter, gently trying to pull him away from the graves. ] How about we let the dead rest in pieces. Press F and come on. [ Is someone getting a little unnerved? He's getting that strange feeling that he's kept this guy alive long enough that something really terrible is about to happen. ] Speaking of milkshakes, do you wanna grab milkshakes and fries? I know this really good diner. I'm having one of those, I want to dip french fries in a milkshake cravings. Y'know? [ Yes, he's talking about food now. ]

[What, you worried about the straight-edged handsome friend being killed in the third act of the movie to necessitate the revenge of the now depressed sassy lead? Never happens! But he relents enough to lean back from the graves. The look he gives Wade is less annoyed about more relenting than it probably should be. He's gonna regret this reply, isn't he? Lord, he is, but Deadpool hasn't been a complete asshole. So.]

... After you stop being a walking pincushion.

[As it turns out, Peter — for all his exasperation — isn't so mean as to turn down a friendly offer of diner food.]

Let's just try surviving this first before we daydream too much about milkshakes.

[ He's worried that Peter is too much of a babe to be the final girl, tbh. Also he very clearly perks up when Peter both agrees and worries about his health. ] You know these can't kill me right? [ Sure they hurt, but so does cancer, and life in general.

Is Wade suspicious that Peter will have him walk far enough away to remove them and then abandon him to a sad lonely milkshake and fries?

.... yes. ]

And I'm always daydreaming about milkshakes. Evil ghost children, Chucky or ... [ He pauses, whipping his head around to look this way and that, before abruptly looking down. Why does it feel sorta like there's something wiggling under his feet?

Welp, that hand that had been on Peter's shoulder is now tightening and tugging him back more before pushing him towards what looks to be a path out of this mess. ] And we're walking. Gogogogo.

[He looks very intently at Wade, for once not nudging his hand off him.]

I'm not just gonna accept someone suffering in front of me — because of me.

C'mon.

[Any chance of that rather soft-hearted admission is very much interrupted by another sharp pang of spider senses, and then it's immediately followed by him being led more toward the path — and around them, the ground seems to be wriggling pretty ominously.]

Okayokayokay—

Booking it, we're booking it!

[Running for it seems like a fabulous idea. Or it would have been a fabulous idea, if bodies weren't bursting from the earth in really startling numbers; they're already crawling right onto the path, moving to stand, rotting flesh hanging off moaning faces.]

You've got to be kidding me—

[ZOMBIES. REALLY. THAT'S WHAT WE'RE DOING.]

Don't think I'm totally letting you get away with -- [ Wade stumbles to a stop as the zombie make themselves fully known. ] We're totally talking about how you just went all doe eyed and sweet on me later. Because I am never forgetting that.

[ Oh, god, and they do not smell good either. Eugh. Wade's hand moves up to pinch his nose through his mask. ] Oh my god. I'm gonna be sick. [ One of the zombies closest to him grabs onto him and Wade pulls it towards him before using a practiced movement to give its neck a sickening snap. The hands don't stop grasping at him, and even still the zombie is trying to get at him if a bit crooked. ] Not Resident Evil rules. Ah shit! [ He stumbles back before bringing a leg up and kicking it hard in the abdomen, sending it far enough away that he's comfortable with it. ] I'm gonna shove 'em out of the way and you're gonna follow, okay?

Unless you feel like cockblocking me some more.

[...............

While Wade is going on about him shoving them out of the way and Peter following—

Peter has picked up a shovel, and whacks the head off of one that was teetering over Wade's direction.

... What, they're already dead, and they're weird haunted house zombies in some dreamworld.]

What were you saying?

[ Wade gasps, hands coming up to his cheeks, and it seems like he's completely forgotten they're getting encroached on by zombies. ] I have never been more attracted to someone than I am right now, in this moment.

[ At least he didn't finish that thought of 'you could behead me and I'd thank you.' So... they have that going for them at least. ] Y'know, you'd probably be a really good superhero if you had powers. Or a shiny metal suit like Tony Stark. But like, sexier, it'd have to be sexier than the tin can he wears. Like the male version of how every game developer makes female armour out to be. Equality. You can't say I'm not a feminist.

[ Oh, suddenly all the protecting is on Peter, because Wade is distracted with babbling to his newfound crush. ]

[Oh my god. He rolls his eyes before turning and shoving the blunt handle end of the shovel into a zombie's gut, spinning and smacking another across the face with the shovel end. How did he end up in a predicament like this? Good ol' Parker luck, it strikes again. Rears that ugly head. (But hey, some other time, he's sure he'd be awkwardly almost-flattered.)

He knocks a zambino over by kicking it in the back of the knee, looking over his shoulder once Deadpool's done gushing.]

Might want to get your head in the game there, hero!

[There's — a lot of them suddenly, wow; where are they coming from?!]

[ Wade is definitely gawking, or maybe perving. Probably both, honestly. He could certainly watch this for hours if he had his way. ] How can I when you're doing things like that? [ If he were a cartoon he'd be hovering in the air w heart eyes. Right, he's right though. He's gotta keep the cutie alive before he can hit on him more. Wade's not sure if it's the violence, the fact that Peter can take care of himself it seems, or the fact that he clearly has some kind of fighting experience. Probably all of the above. But Wade certainly intends to test the latter of the options later. In a safer environment.

He looks around, catching sight of another shovel not too far away. He makes a run for it, and once he's got it, he's a lot more chaotic in his movements, even if he seems to know exactly what he's doing. He brings it up and slams it hard into the nearest zombie's face, splitting it another movement and he's chopping the thing's head right off its shoulders. He works his way back to Peter, maiming anything in his way. ]

Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater. I have no problem with watching you do this all night, seriously. But I really think my idea was better. And I really REALLY hate to admit that, because your idea is way more fun and way sexier.

[He is more than happy to continue not being eaten by generic scary zombies, thanks. Even if it means doing everything in his power not to wallop Wade with a shovel and risk dying (he wasn't gonna wallop him with a shovel, that's just posturing; shut up). But then he notices that his spider senses are kind of not even able to keep up with every threat wobbling their way, and that's when you know things are bad news bears.]

No, no, you're right — other plan, let's do that one!

[He stabs down on a hand that has risen from the ground to grab his ankle.

And yes, it's still clinging onto him; he hops on one foot, trying to throw it off him as they start trying to find an opening for escape.]

Oh, yeah, real sexy! Nothing more attractive than rotting zombies in a graveyard that smells like pee. [He makes SUCH A FACE OF DISAPPROVAL.] One more word out of you like that, I'm gonna start slamming the buzzer on the kink-shaming button!

Really? You like my plan now? [ Don't mind him smacking a zombie hard in the head, probably like Peter wishes he could do without being a bad guy. ] Imagine that.

[ Okay, enough bitching. ] Slam your kink-shame button all you want. It does nothing. And I'm not attracted to the rotting zombies or the graveyard or the pee smell! So maybe that says something about you. You're too hot! Hot damn! Make a dragon wanna retire, man. [ Kink-shaming only works with people who have shame, unfortunately.

He jabs one of the zombies getting too close to Peter away with the shovel before he's darting past Peter, brandishing the shovel like this is some kind of new sport, ready to clear the way. ] Simon Says, follow me!

[A sort of almost-laugh escapes him, like someone trying not to laugh at another person's stupid joke.]

You're lame!

[When Peter Parker calls you lame, DP, there's some sting to it. Because Peter Parker is really good at being lame, himself. At any rate, he doesn't want to be zombie chow, so he rushes to follow Wade and knock over some zombies in the process. C'mon c'mon c'mon, freedom, freedom—!

The zombies at the back of them are really close for comfort, when the white flash of light blinds the two of them temporarily; he goes barreling into Wade's back, and I'm sure this will end in an unfortunate rolling tumble for the two of them. How do those tiny knives in you feel right now, my guy?

... At least they're in the front yard of the house again?

Safe(?) and sound(?).

What does Peter have to say to this, from where he's laying on the street?]

Uugh.

[ Wade doesn't have time to give Peter a dopey smile, even if he can't see it. He's pretty sure he 100% wants to hear him actually laugh, even if he had to kill someone to do it. Not that he really thinks that it'd be that hard and, oof -- why is this happening??? Why is his face smacking into the ground and ugh ouchie so many knives dig in deeper.

OUCHIE OUCHIE.

Wade groans, but doesn't move from where he's sprawled out on the ground. ] Remind me never to seek out acupuncture. [ Despite his pain, he's still not really... moving. ] Don't get me wrong, I love when people smack into me like a speeding car. Normally, I'd totally consider this foreplay but next time maybe when neither of us have been stabbed?

[ A pause. ]

Are you okay?

[Is Peter gonna move from where he's sprawled?

Naaaah. He lays there on his back, feeling pretty okay, except—]

... I think I popped my superglue.

How about you?

[He's more worried about you, Knifey McKnifeStabbed.]

Oh, I'm great. [ Is that sarcasm? Yes, yes it is. But he has been worse. ] Bring your back over here I can super glue you again. I'm so disappointed none of that is innuendo.

[ He's just staring up at the sky, don't mind him. ] I always thought zombies would be more fun than that. Maybe I should go through the house again. See if I like it better when I know what's coming. [ Yes, yes, he's nuts.

A beat as he silently seems to turn something over in his brain, and then he's turning his head to look over to Peter. ] Unless you know CPR, then I'm dying.

Huh. CPR... That's the first aid technique where you throw a shoe at someone's head, right? I can definitely do that for you.

[He's gonna just lay there and not throw any shoes, though. You're welcome. He's not tired or anything, and he's had worse in terms of injuries, but he figures he might as well keep Wade company. Even if he's annoying and a terrible choice in companion for haunted house.]

... Again, you're nuts.

Can't we just — get something to eat and forget all this?

[As much as he's tired at the thought of such a mission, he also doesn't want Wade running back inside and getting himself hurt worse, or killed. That's just not in him to allow; he'd run back in, too, and then they'd be all in the Suffering Zone again. Why do that when there are burgers and fries somewhere else? Or Halloween candy????]

Wow, something makes me think you don't have your Trained in CPR card. [ Wade lets out a breathy laugh. Whether it's at his own joke or Peter's is hard to tell. He's not even sure himself. The dude has some great banter. For the record, Wade has a very expired Trained in CPR card. ]

Probably. But yeah, we can get food, I am not, however, going to forget all this. You murdering the fuck out of those zombies was hot as fuck. You went all Daryl Dixon but hotter and less backwoods. [ Had Wade spent an embarrassingly amount of that time staring at Peter's ass? It's a mystery.

He lets out a groan as he finally sits up. How is he going to do this? He doesn't particularly want to ditch the guy, but he also doesn't want to keep walking around with knives in him for longer than he really needs to. U g h. Maximum Effort. He'll just leave them in. Doin' it for the cutie. ]

Anyone ever tell you you're too forward?

[He sits up, huffing and dusting his shirt off. After a beat and him reconsidering this whole diner thing, he gestures to Deadpool's... everything. The whole package. all this shit here before his eyes. There's no way in hell he's going to accompany a man full of sharp knives to a diner.]

And before we go, you're gonna go... handle those.

Nope. Usually I just get "shut up," ignored, or shot at.

[ He appreciates Peter not doing any of that. ]

... You realise I heal right? [ Despite his words, he grumpily moves to stand. ] Fine. But watch this for me, it's dear to my heart. [ Without any warning, Wade drops his brick by Peter. ] I'll be right back. Stay here. Back in like. Five. I promise.

[ Before Peter can say anything or argue, Wade bolts off in a direction. When he returns, it's been a little over four minutes. And oh, look, not a knife in him at all. Actually they're not on him at all. ... Because he buried them by a tree in case of emergency. He's like a murder squirrel. ]

Happy?

I don't really care if you heal, man. It probably still hurts.

[He huffs though, sitting cross-legged near the... brick... And even if he has a compulsion to fling it into the nearest woods, he'd never be able to. Spider-Man and Peter Parker are saps and will defend even the stupidest possession for someone. That's life. When Wade re-appears, he tosses the brick casually at him. Don't worry, it's a friendly toss, not a 60 mph brickball from the pitcher.]

Hungry, more like. Maybe I'm turning into a zombie.

[hardy har har]