AUGUST 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

[sodder]

AUGUST 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to August's Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: DYSTOPIAN 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: Physical violence, monster violence, creepy ogre-like monster in link, being hunted by a monster.
Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

BLOOD IN MY VEINS

With supplies low and food getting even more scarce, things in Deerington, Maine seem to be getting that much more tense. For those who pay attention to the habits of the townspeople, there’s something that might add to that feeling of stress; all of them seem to be involved in some kind of physical training, whether it’s archery, hand-to-hand combat, or fighting with firearms, they all seem like they’re getting ready for something and it definitely feels like it might be something big.

But no one wants to train against a townsperson - it’s highly likely they’re not going to fight fair with the way they’re all glaring at the Sleepers, as though they’re to blame for everything that’s been going on. Unless you’re sparring with people in your own backyard though, it seems like there isn’t any space to get your own training in.

The Betties are starting to pop up around town pretty regularly, waiting until they find Sleepers on their own, and quietly waving for them to come closer. “You need to prepare,” they’ll whisper to you in hushed urgency, before grabbing your hand to try and get you to follow them. If you fight, they’ll insist only once more, before leaving you alone. But there’s something inside of you urging you to comply and follow.

They’ll lead you down an alley, pushing aside a large dumpster, and revealing a trap door in the middle of the concrete. You’ve never noticed it before, even if you’ve been down this alley a hundred times. The Betty leading you leans down, pulling it open, and the ladder that goes into the tunnel is long and dimly lit. You could leave now, but the Betty will insist this is for the best.

“Knock twice. No more or less. Show them what you’re made of.”

Once you get to the bottom of the ladder, there’s an equally long hallway that leads towards a closed metal door. You knock twice and the door shakes before sliding open. The light that comes through is almost blinding with how bright it is compared to the dim tunnel, but as your eyes adjust, you can finally step in to a fully stocked training room.

There are instructors in basics for beginners, areas for intermediate, and most abundantly there are one-on-one sparring areas. The moment you come close enough, you’ll be immediately paired with another Sleeper, and the two of you will be locked in the room together to be observed. You could choose to not fight, of course, but you’ll be stuck there for a good long while if you do. It might be best to just get it over and done with.

So feel free to help others who seem to be struggling or show off your strength for everyone to see. It looks like everyone is going to need to be ready for some kind of fight.

I AM THE GREAT UNKNOWN

Maybe you got knocked out during a fight or maybe you fell asleep in your own bed - or maybe you don’t even remember closing your eyes at all, especially if you don’t usually have the ability to go unconscious for one reason or another. No matter the cause, everyone will wake up in the same place, surrounded by tall, thick hedges in the middle of a... maze?

It doesn’t take you long to realize you aren’t the only one waking up, too. Someone is next to you and it seems like you’re stuck finding your way out of here together. Literally. On each of your wrists is a metal cuff with a long chain connecting them. It can’t be broken, no matter how strong a person is or how powerful a weapon or spell they try to use against it. You’re in this together whether you want to be or not.

Once you can pick a direction to head in, it seems like this might almost be boring - that is until you start to hear the sounds of rustling leaves and breaking twigs. At first it seems like it might just be a trick to spook you, but the more you ignore it, the louder it gets, until finally you see it, charging down the row at you, scythe raised and ready to strike.

You can try to fight, of course, but it’s hard when you’re chained to one another. Learn to work together quickly and maybe you can make it work. It seems to go down with normal attacks, though it takes a long time to get the creature to fall unless you cut off the head. Ultimately your best interest might be set in running as fast as you can to get away. You can lose it in the maze if you’re quick about it. But then you might also be lost yourself.

If you do manage to lose the monster rather than killing it, stay quiet and you might not attract its attention again. It may take a while to find the end of the maze. The hedges feel like they stretch on forever and the sun is blaring down. You’d think there would be shade with all the height of the bushes, but there’s no relief from the heat. Hopefully you don’t burn easy.

When you get to the end of the maze, the two of you will come up on three doors. One door will lead out of the maze and back into the center of Deerington, cuff free. Another door will lead you right back to the beginning, forcing you to start again. And what’s behind door number three...?

The monster, of course.

Choose wisely.

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

cw: blood/gore

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt knows that look. He's seen it a thousand times, usually right before a giant robot gets gutted from the inside out or a pile of Hand ninja realise the painful way that they've messed with the wrong man. Baleful and full of anger. He knows Logan calls it the Berserker, and that's what it is. The haunted and broken part of Logan's soul finding release in blood.

His claws scythe through the air, catching the light along their gleaming edges as he cuts down -- then flinches away, yelling. ]

Logan -- [ It's all Kurt gets out before Logan's healing factor kicks in and the wound appears along Kurt's thumb, a red line through his blue fur drawn by a ghostly hand, bright and a brief flash of white bone. Kurt yelps, an animal sound, at the pain, clapping his palm over the injury as blood begins to run out between his fingers onto the grass. ]

[howlett]

[Unintentional as it is, Kurt’s recoiling pulls Logan’s own hand out of the path of another strike from his own claws. Instead they lodge into the ground and Logan is jarred out of his fury at the sound of his friend’s pain.]

Oh shit— Kurt!

[First aid is not his strong suit. He can distinctly remember making Hank cringing over some of his makeshift tourniquets and field dressings. Still, the blood seeping through Kurt’s fingers makes him desperate to do something, and worried that any effort to undo the mess he’s made will be just as quickly rebuffed. Why would anyone trust his hands now, after all?]

I’m sorry, I’m sorry… [His babbled apologies bring his voice back down to a whisper as he closes his hands tightly around Kurt’s forearm to quell the flow of blood to his hand.]

Keep pressure. We’ll tie it with something. I shouldn’t have… No, more of that. It’s not worth it. We’ll figure something else out.

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt's no stranger to pain. In the course of his career he's faced injuries of every sort, not to mention the small matter of surviving his own death (more or less). But he's never really become used to it, at least not in the way that some of his friends have.

He tries, though, for Logan's sake. His palm is hot and slippery with his own blood as he raises it, keeping it pressed hard on the wound, knowing enough of medicine to help staunch the flow of blood. The pain pulses in his hand in time with his heartbeat. He looks at Logan, his lambent eyes steady though his voice is strained. ]

It's OK, Logan. It's.. not your fault. It's this place, what it's done to your powers. [ He pants a little, then grins, hard and desperate. ] It is going to make watching you shave even more of an adventure, I can tell.

[howlett]

Don’t. Don’t do that. [His muttering brushes off Kurt’s reassurances. The fear and loathing people harbour for him isn’t exactly unjustified. Not a day goes by here or anywhere else that he’s not reminded of that. But what might be worse than being told exactly what people think of you, is being placated about it. Just as a struck dog cowers from a firm hand, it’s leery of a gentle one.]

This place is a shitshow, but whatever it’s doin’ to us. We’re still making’ choices…

[Rending a strip of his plaid shirt, the words sound more like a conversation he’s having with himself than anything he suspect Kurt needs to know. He wraps Kurt’s hand tightly. Enough to replace the pressure of their grip. It’s little help for the discomfort but it’s enough to stop the bleeding and give Kurt back the use of his good hand as well. By the time he’s through, Kurt’s unwavering ability to make the worst into a joke makes him smile— however much he’s trying not to. When he lets go Kurt’s hand they’re almost nose to nose and Logan’s eyes narrow suspiciously.]

You sayin’ I suck at shaving or you just like watchin’ me do it?

[With the coppery scent of blood in the air it takes a long moment, longer than he’s happy about, to pick up that low, musty rot of that creature again. Whatever trace of a smile was on his face, it’s gone.]

It’s coming back… [He puts Kurt at his back, penning him into the corner in the hedges where he put himself between Kurt and anything that might step into the corridors stretching out on either side of them.] We can’t just keep running. We don’t even know how big his place is. We gotta kill it, Elf. We can kill it.

[suchmiracles]

[ Watching Logan bristle and retreat from any kind of comfort is as painful as the throbbing in Kurt's hand.

He frowns, his eyes fixed on his friend's face as Logan tears off a strip of his shirt and wraps his thumb, barely noticing the jostling of his ministrations. What had this place done to Logan, to make him so unhappy? Before his death he had been withdrawn and quiet; Kurt and the others had given him his space to deal with his mortality in his own way, as he always had. But this was different, a kind of surrender that makes Kurt's chest ache with concern.

Even his smile is strained, and although Kurt is happy to meet it, he can't quite find the strength of heart to quip back at him.

Then Logan's head comes up again, and he's pushing Kurt back behind him. Kurt bares his teeth a little at that, not liking to feel protected when he can still fend for himself, but he cradles his injured hand and doesn't put up a fight. Logan has a point. ]

I can 'port us in. [ He offers it in a low voice, understanding that Logan won't like it but not giving him an opportunity to argue. Years of battlefield experience training for situations very much like this one rise to the fore of his mind. They are X-Men still; they won't go down quietly. ] Above it and behind, we go in quick, surprise it. It may look like a verdammt demon, but few things can survive without a head, and I'll wager this thing isn't among them.

[ He reaches out with his uninjured hand to touch Logan's shoulder with his fingertips. ] Let me do this, mein Freund. I don't want to die on my knees.

[howlett]

Don’t you dare. [He snarls over his shoulder. It’s a knee jerk reaction if ever there was one and few people can talk him out of a temperamental response like Kurt can. He knows, perhaps better than most, that Kurt can handle himself. He’s seen his this man through more trials than most ever expect someone as unwaveringly positive as Kurt could have ever lived. But in some ways, thats all the more reason to hold on more tightly now. He wasn’t there when Bastion took him from everyone. Hell, was barely there to welcome him home before they were pulled their separate ways again. Deerington doesn’t grant many wishes. But having Kurt here feels like a gift. One he intends not to squander for once.]

[He looks truly worried when his gaze falls to that hand on his shoulder, but the touch lowers his hackles some.]

You’d rather die halfway between here and another dimension?

[If there was time for a heart to heart about it, they might reach a less prickly understanding, but it’s undeniable Kurt’s gifts are tailor made for this one. Hell, for all they know he can port himself right out of their chains. It’s not quiet a concession, but it’s the closest anyone can hope to get from a stubborn Wolverine.]


Just… don’t go so far I can’t reach you.

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt can tell he's trying. If they had been anywhere else, he might have backed down, allowed Logan a little room to take control and do things his way. But as it is, they have no choice.

He slides his uninjured hand down Logan's arm takes his hand. Squeezes it briefly, trying to put as much warmth in his touch as his voice. ]

Never again, mein Freund.

[ As if summoned, the monster picks that moment to reappear around the turn in the hedges nearby, stumbling and terrible. It roars, an inhuman sound, dragging its scythe up to bear on them.

Kurt draws in a breath to steady himself, readying his body for the pain he knows will come. He steps in close behind Logan, settling one hand on each of his shoulders, his tail wrapping around Logan's ankle. It's his turn to murmur in Logan's ear. ]

Get ready, Liebchen.

[ Setting his jaw, he runs a series of quick mental calculations picks a point a little above and behind where the monster will be with its next lurching step, and leans on that instinctive internal switch --

BAMF

They come out already falling, dropping onto the back of the monster. Kurt's world immediately washes red with pain as something in his insides seizes. He tries to twist his body to take advantage of their momentum but his muscles are cramped, agonised, and he ends up tumbling into both Logan and the creature, hoping desperately that Logan has been able to kill it, that he's done a good job, that something has worked, as he hits the grass and rolls, senseless, his vision going dark. ]

[howlett]

[That tail lashes around his leg and it’s a moment too late for Logan warn him to hold on. To say; don’t let go even after they land. Instead, his next breath is a lungful of smoke and brimstone and there’s no time to ensure they stick the landing.

Teleportation is never not disorientating. Moving like this in pairs is clumsy enough when they’re not bound together, but circumstances can forgive a less than graceful effort if it works in the long run.

So when the world comes rushing back to them, the gnarled shoulders of their hunter right at arms reach, he doesn’t hesitate to take the shot Kurt injured himself to give them. With a sudden SNIKT form both hands he lets the claws of his right dig in for grip while his comes in swinging. Raking the monster’s neck until the hideous noises fall silent and whatever vital fluids it’s gushing emit a sharp, foul smell.

The hand he’s impaled it with is hauled free by the dead weight of Kurt’s body and by either foolishness or confidence he doesn’t stop to check if it’s dead before falling to his knees at Kurt’s side.]

Elf? Kurt!

[With covered claws he hangs over his friend. Patting his cheek for a response and pressing his ear to the younger man’s chest when he gets nothing.]

C’mon. Cmonnn. You did it, Kurt. C’mon. You did it. We’re gonna get out here. Don’t make me carry you, Goddamnit!

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt drifts -- for a moment, or maybe more than a moment -- in soft warm darkness, then pain and a voice jolts him out of it, like a fish-hook under his ribs. Grass under his hands. The smell of fog and something rotten. Logan leaning over him.

Logan? But --

It takes a second for his brain to catch up as he blinks up at his friend. Blood coats the back of his tongue. He coughs, droplets of it dark on his lips; grimaces as pain cramps in his guts, his chest. His hand throbs, bright new sparks between his knuckles.

Still, he offers Logan a weak smile. ]

Didn't stick the landing.

[howlett]

[There have been too many moments like this one for Logan to count. And every moment like this, every time he’s ever found himself looking down hopefully at Kurt’s injured form, he’s struct with that same feeling like there’s a hole where his stomach should be.

And then his friend speaks and bit by bit, as if one vital organ at a time, Logan feels whole again. Perhaps even more reassuring than Kurt’s voice itself is the fact that he’s making jokes as soon as Logan can see the light in his eyes again.]

You kiddin’ me?
You got it just right, Elf.

[He’d rather be any place than here and has to assume Kurt’s feeling the same way, but without that thing hunting them, there’s no reason to rush and risk making the damage the younger man is doing to himself any worse. Squeezing Kurt’s hand he sits back on his heels, tension easing from his posture.]

Take it easy. We’ll find the way out when you think you can walk… If you think you can walk…

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt nods weakly at Logan's words. He doesn't like the idea of staying in this place, but he can't disguise the fact that getting up feels approximately as easy as lifting the ground from beneath his feet. At least the pain seems to be easing a little faster now -- perhaps his body is getting used to it, or maybe it's becoming easier to ignore it.

He turns his head a little, trying to see the monster nearby. ]

It's definitely dead?

[howlett]

Don’t rush.

[He grazes Kurt’s cheek with his knuckle, swiping away a dribble of blood. Seeing Kurt so battered never gets easier, but there’s something to be said for being here with him at least. He can hardly recall the last time they spend more than passing moments together in the wake of everything that’s happened these last few years. When relief fills his lungs its hard to decide if he should use that breath to catch up on all that they’ve missed, or just enjoy the silent closeness of a man who never asked much more of his company.]

I can check it’s pulse if it’ll make you feel better, but I’m pretty sure it’s not putting it’s head back on.

[suchmiracles]

[ The X-Men have always been adept in snatching moments to themselves out of strange and chaotic situations, so Kurt doesn't find it particularly odd to be lying on the grass of a hedge maze inside a living nightmare with his best friend by his side, feeling, for the moment, very grateful to be there.

Logan's expression is likewise relieved, almost peaceful. Another fight they've lived through together, and it has been so long since they've been able to do that. Too long.

Kurt catches Logan's hand in his uninjured one before he can pull it away, the flannel wrapping his knuckles brushing Logan's skin. His pain, the taste of blood, become distant concerns as he looks up at him, his round golden eyes betraying every emotion. ]

Ah, Logan, I.. I grieved for you for so long. But I admit, a part of me also felt glad, to know that you might be at peace somewhere. I wanted that for you. I could not stay in Heaven, but I hoped maybe you.. [ He rubs Logan's palm with his thumb, a slow circle. ] But it seems the universe has other plans for us both.

[howlett]

[It’s a confusing thing to be comfortable with, even envious of, the prospect of death and still ache to know someone would miss you. It’s a small consolation for being woken from exactly what Kurt hoped for him. What Kurt’s always hoped for him in this life or the next one.

That conversation though comes with a great deal of vulnerability that Logan is not always able to muster. Least of all when he’s watching over his battered friend, and trying to uphold his usefulness as someone’s pillar of strength. His hold on Kurt’s hand becomes firm and reassuring. A great deal more steady than his fractured smile.]

Hey… maybe it’s for the best. You know damn well I wouldn’t have ended up in Heaven anyway. If someone cut me a deal to end up here, we both know it’s probably because of you.

[He’s not a man who many think to describe as funny, but that might be because the things he jokes about are already on the outskirts of what most people are comfortable discussing in polite company. Like most things, he’s weaponized his sense of humour. It’s there to assure others he’s indestructible.]

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt coughs out a brief laugh at that, though it's tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that Logan is speaking from the heart. He squeezes Logan's hand once more, then releases him, shifting a little to gingerly push himself up into a sitting position.

Once up, he glances over at the body of the creature, a slightly nauseated expression drawing across his features. He looks back at Logan, then starts gathering himself to stand up, moving slowly but pushing through the pain that ripples through his torso with every movement. ]

We should get going. There may be more of these things. If we find the end of the maze, perhaps there is a way out. [ He leaves the obvious unsaid: if there even is an end to it. ]

[howlett]

He’s not wrong to be cautious, but that Kurt can find room to laugh despite all the aches and pains this trial has put him through seems a sure enough sign he’s ready to go.

What do they say about mazes? Keep turning left and eventually you’ll find the way out?

[He gives Kurt every chance to find his own feet, but ultimately Logan can’t keep himself from reaching for his friend, stretching an arm across Kurt’s back to give him something to lean on.]

Maybe you should hang on to that sword above my bed. [When they find a comfortable stride to lumber through these floral corridors, he lets himself muse about Deerington like he’s certain he can hang on to Kurt there this time. That they won’t just vanish to some other self contained place the next time they close their eyes. It hurts too much to think after all of this Sodder would just take the other man from him again.] I don’t need it so much, but you… It’s no saber, but you know your way around it.

[suchmiracles]

[ Logan's arm is a welcome weight across Kurt's back, heavy and warm, the grip against which Kurt has measured himself against again and again. If he doesn't pay too close attention to the hedges or the strange cold fog or the smell of the monster behind them, he can pretend to himself that they're just staggering home from another night at Harry's.

At Logan's words he looks over at him, his head heavy. He blinks slowly. ]

Nein, Logan, I can't take that from you. It's your connection to home. I can handle myself. You keep it. Bitte, please.

[howlett]

[He shakes his head at Kurt’s point. It’s no surprise his friend would try to refuse, but if that sword has ever had any real value it’s protecting people when he couldn’t.] You’re my connection to home, Elf.

It’s not serving anybody collecting dust. All porting is effecting your head too if you think I’m letting you wander around this place without a way to protect yourself.

[The longer they bicker amicably the shorter the walk feels, until the next time they round a corner and it’s not just more fucking hedges. He staggers to a stop looking at this trio of doors.]

Great. A game. Just what I'm in the mood for.

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt is about to summon a retort to Logan's stubborn comments -- something about the sword being too valuable to use for hedge cutting -- when they reach the doors. As Logan stops, he slides down into a half-crouch half-slump on the grass. Logan's dismay matches his own; where once he would have welcomed a puzzle, now it only looks ominous. ]

At least it might be somewhere other than here, mein Freund.

[howlett]

Could you not be such an optimist for one fuckin' minute. [He smirks to say it all the same. Between that and the swearing that's how you can tell he knows Kurt has a point.

After a quick and cautious look around both sides of these free-standing doorways to nowhere, he sighs. There's clearly only one way to tell where they lead.]

First pick's all yours, bub.

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt looks up at Logan, then at the doors. For a moment he considers arguing about it, but he knows Logan well enough to realise that's futile. Instead, he eyes the doors themselves. They all seem to be identical. He pushes himself up and walks slowly over to them, reaching out to brush his fingers across the one on the right hand side. ]

I wonder if it will even matter which we choose. [ He glances back at Logan. ] Perhaps they all lead to the same place. Still.. maybe it would be better if we picked different doors, that way, at least one of us might escape, even if the other does not.

[howlett]

[He’s on the verge of a shrug when Kurt’s suggestion hits him like a sucker punch. His usually chiseled and furrowed brow expression gives way to something uncharacteristically wide eyed. Worried. Like a mutt you’ve just told to stay you walk out the door on him.]

Different doors… [Even his voice is made gentler with concern, but if he’s not arguing, he knows there’s rhyme to Kurt’s reason. Reluctantly his arm drifts away from Kurt, stalling only to be sure that he can bear his own weight comfortably.]

I uh… I have a cabin by the lake. Don’t forget. If… if it brings you back to Deerington. You can find me there. [He can only make plans that assume they’ll be meeting again soon. He can’t bring himself to say goodbye.]