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DECEMBER 2019 TEST DRIVE

DECEMBER 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to December's Test Drive Meme!

This month's Test Drive's theme is: PROPHETIC 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: Possible death via exposure (freezing), Krampus imagery, possible vore, visual and auditory hallucinations, monster violence, stalking, decapitation

Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One Prompt Two Character Arrival Master Navigation

VANISH LIKE THE WARM STOVE

Winter has set in in Deerington and it’s as harsh as one would expect for the frigid mountains of inland Maine. There’s snow on the ground, icicles hanging off of most buildings, and black ice all over the roads. Better be careful where you step or you might just slip and hurt yourself while you’re walking around town!

But there’s something unusual about the cold. It feels bone-deep and no amount of layers or staying inside seems to make it shake. Your teeth are always chattering, you feel the need to hunch in on yourself to keep any heat from escaping, and if you look at your hands, you might see them go from bright red, to white, to even the slightest tint of blue throughout the day. You’re getting colder by the minute and it feels like there’s no way to stop it. Maybe you’re just doomed to freeze.

The box is waiting on a bench. You didn’t see who placed it, but there’s a small tag with your name on it, so clearly it was meant for you. If you ignore the box, it will start to show up on random surfaces around town wherever you might be; the kitchen counter, a desk or display case at your work, the floor of your bedroom… No matter where you are, the box is there too. Eventually, you might as well just give in and open it.

Inside every box are three matches. They’re relatively long, like the sort you’d use to light a fire in a fireplace, and they appear to be completely normal. People who can sense magic won’t get a reading off of the match and no amount of testing the wood or the tip will show anything other than the exact chemical make up one would expect. So maybe they’re safe! There’s a small note tucked inside the box with only two words written in childishly messy scroll; Keep Warm.

If you light the match, you’ll find that you’re instantly starting to feel a little less cold. It’s the first bit of heat you’ve managed to snag in so long that you’ll probably find yourself a little desperate to hold onto it. The matches burn at a relatively steady rate, not too fast or too slow, and the wind can easily blow them out, so be careful! You’ll have to protect the flame from the elements if you want to keep yourself toasty. The only strange thing that you might notice is that whenever you’re near another person who has a lit match, both the matches seem to burn a little stronger and stay lit a little longer. So maybe you’ll have to pair up and learn to share. If you’re smart, you’ll light just one of each of your matches at a time, giving you a total of six chances to keep yourself from freezing to death.

There’s always a catch though, isn’t there? Each match will come with a unique vision as the flame dies out. A vision that can be seen by both of you. The vision will belong to whoever’s match as burning and it will be as vibrant and detailed as if you were really in the middle of it.

The end of the first match will show you something you want. It can be anything; a warm meal, a new bed, an object from home you’ve longed for. You’ll be able to pick it up, taste it, smell it, do whatever you would normally do; but at the end of the day, it isn’t real, and ultimately you might find that you’re just chewing on your own (or your companion’s) hand.

The end of the second match will show a vision of someone that you miss. Whether it’s from home, a previous world, or someone who’s come and gone from Deerington, you’ll see them clear as day, calling for you and beckoning you to come with them. It’s probably best to not. After all, you’d have to leave your matches behind, and it’s cold out there.

The end of the third match will show you a vision of somewhere you miss. It’ll be like you’re standing in the middle of the very place you’ve been longing for ever since you arrived in Deerington — maybe even longer. It’ll look, sound, smell, and feel like the place you’ve missed most. It’s almost easy to want to stay and forget to come back to reality and light your next match.

If you both can make the six matches stretch until the sun sets, you’ll find that the cold has finally broken, and you’re able to keep yourself warm again. If you don’t? Well, it’s time to find someone else with a bundle of matches, and hope they’re okay with some basic invasion of privacy to stop you both from getting hypothermia.

BETTER WATCH OUT

Have you been a good person this year? Probably not! This is Deerington after all and everyone’s got a sin or two they’ve committed that they’ve been carrying around some deep shame about. Whether it’s something you’ve done here or something you did back home, the things your character feels guilt over will start to plague them more and more frequently as of late. Maybe you’ll start to see small little snippets of the memory flash before your eyes, or hear the voices of the people you’ve hurt calling out to you for mercy. No matter how it manifests, it’ll be gnawing at your insides, growing more and more impossible to ignore.

It might just be the paranoia from having to flashback to your worst memories at all hours of the day, but eventually you start to feel like someone (or something) is following you. You hear the scrape of nails against cement, the thud of heavy footsteps, or the sound of a heavy sigh by your ear accompanied with the smell of rancid breath. But every time you go to look, it seems like there isn’t anything there. No matter how logical a person you might be, you still end up feeling a little on edge, and you know you’re right about being… well, stalked. You may not be the sort who usually goes for comfort from others, but something inside of you tells you that maybe you’ll be a little safer if you aren’t alone. You seek out a friend, a colleague, or even a complete stranger— just someone who might make this creeping suspicion of being watched go away for a little while.

Except the moment that the two of you are together, Krampus finally arrives. He seems to fall from the sky, landing in front of you with a ground shaking thud, his long tongue hanging out of a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. He’s ever bit the demon you’d expect him to be and he looks hungry. You can try to run or you can try to fight, but he’s quick and strong, certainly hard for any normal human to take down. And if you look into his eyes, then things are about to get a whole lot worse.

Whoever locks eyes with him will have the very thing you have been feeling guilt over put on display for both you and your companion to see. It’ll be like you’ve been transported directly into the memory, Krampus’ clawed hand gripping your shoulders and forcing you to watch whatever your shame is play out in front of you all over again. The detail is striking and there’s nothing left out, no matter how hard you or your companion try to stop it.

When the memory stops playing, Krampus will start to move his tongue around you, wrapping you in the long, blood red muscle like it’s a snake. You can try to break free and it’s possible to cut the demon’s tongue with a sharp blade if you or your companion happens to have one; whatever you do, it’s best to do it quickly before you end up a snack.

Krampus can be taken down in one of two ways; either the person who is experiencing the guilt must confess their sin out loud and profusely apologize, begging for forgiveness for their misdeeds or he can be taken down in a somewhat simple ceremony. The chains dangling from the Krampus wrists must be grabbed and somehow secured into the ground; this will weaken Krampus greatly and leave him more vulnerable to attack. Once he is secured, you must take off his head. It doesn’t matter if it’s cut off, ripped off or blown off, the moment the neck is severed from the rest of the body, the Krampus will turn a deep black, like coal, before crumbling into dust, leaving only the head behind.

A little messy, but definitely efficient.

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

Real funny, asshole. [ mickey calls out over the screeching the creature lets out as he feeds the chain around the leg of a bus stop bench bolted to the sidewalk, winding it as tight as he can get it. ] Tie him to the fuckin' ground!

[ his chin jerks up, motioning to the nearby trashcan, similarly bolted. once it's tied, the thing wails but weakens, and Mickey shoots back up, dropping a gross boot onto the thing's shoulder. ]

This is about to get real gross, fair warning.

[ and ian gets all of a count of three to look away before mickey's raising up this post-apocalypse nightmare looking axe and swinging it down. it might take a couple chops, you know, supernatural monsters and all. it's a good thing one of them is conditioned enough to this. ]

Edited 2019-11-24 09:02 (UTC)

[ Ian doesn't waste time asking for an explanation and does as he's told, tethering the thing to the ground. He's about to yell some follow up questions when he sees Mickey pull out his, what, his giant axe? Stepping back he watches in slight awe. No manner of growing up in the South Side quite prepared you for watching someone take out a giant nightmare creature with a medieval video game axe. There's a small part of him that wonders if he's just hallucinating this entire experience. None the less, he walks over once the thing appears to be dead and tries to ignore the viscera that's made it's way onto his person. ]

Jesus, Mickey, what the fuck?

[But as he steps closer it feels suddenly inconsequential that they're standing next to dead demon big foot, and he find himself instinctively wrapping his arms around Mickey's neck, clinging for life.]

And where in hell have you been?

[ ian's arms go around him and mickey no longer gives a single shit about the monster weird, black coal dust at their feet. the axe is hooked back onto his person and his arms arm around ian's middle, pulling him in close and squeezing tight to him, his nose tucking in against the side of ian's neck. ]

Here. Learning how to kill fuckin' monsters with some ren faire looking dudes with axes and bondage gear get ups. [ they were much cooler and more badass dudes than mickey just made them sounds, but they did look really weird, he's just saying. ] Waiting for your ass to show up.

[ which, you know, this place is kind of hell so maybe that's not the sweetest sentiment, but man, he missed him. he missed him like a hole in his chest. ]

[Ian closes his eyes, quietly pleased by the vague admission of missing him and pressing his nose into Mickey's hair, which even despite the situation still smells exactly as it should, exactly like Mickey. This place is an objective nightmare, but he's pretty sure that together they can handle it. He smiles, quirking an eyebrow as he pulls away, playfully smacking him on the cheek.]

Costumes and bondage gear? Guess I really can't leave you alone.

[ mickey snorts, shaking his head, but the smile on his face is too bright to be anything but pleased to have ian here and joking around with him. ]

They kept those parts to themselves, don't get too excited. [ we're not getting into dress up and role play, okay, you're going to have to do a lot more to convince him into that kind of fuckery. ] I got a house here. Lot better than the shitholes we're used to. Wanna see it?

Shit. How'd you manage that?

[he's already pulling a cigarette out of his pocket as he gives one last look at the pieces of the creature left behind them]

Yeah, course I do. Even if you're full of shit, it's better than out here.

Squatting, how else?

[ as if he would actually purchase or deal for a house, ian, please, you know him. while ian digs out a cigarette, mickey pulls his zippo free, automatically lighting the stick up for him once ian has it between his lips. jerking his head down the street, he turns, assuming ian will follow. ] Get this - the cops around here? Fat ass house cats. All of 'em. Unless you're setting shit on fire or murdering someone that don't need to be murder, they don't give a single shit.

[ very house cat like, mickey's a fan. ]

[ Ian leans in, taking a long drag when Mickey light his smoke, then passing it over as he follows. ]

Damn. So what the hell is this place anyway? With fucking monsters and free houses.

[ as he's expected (and why he didn't bother to light his own cigarette), ian passes it over and mickey takes it, pulling a long drag of smoke into his lungs before handing it back, lingering close enough to ian while they walk that their arms brush and hips occasionally bump. ]

Deerington, and I swear to Christ, I'm not on anything when I tell you this shit, so don't start calling me nuts 'til I'm done — [ it's bonkers, okay, just wait for it. ] It's a dreamscape that's sometimes a nightmare, so fucking monsters and shit just show up out of nowhere and try to kill people.

There's super-people here. Like dudes who shoot laser beams out of their eyes and crap like that. [ he has not actually seen anyone shoot laser beams out of their eyes, he's just being dramatic. ]

[Ian knows he's giving Mickey exactly the face he expected him to make, but it's hard to take that description seriously even given what he's seen. He takes another long drag, handing it back and making a subtle point of brushing their fingers. ]

Bullshit. Have you actually seen any of that? Like with your own eyes?

[ He rubs a hand over his face, gesturing back where they came from. ]

Okay, other than whatever that was. What was that?

Edited 2019-11-25 01:48 (UTC)

[ okay well he didn't see laser beams but he did see - ]

No shit, I saw a dude teleport around in a puff of black smoke. [ their fingers brush as he takes the cigarette, small smile at the corner of his lips, because he's a giddy little nerd with a crush. ] And then gave me critique on a fuckin' double tap not being a triple tap, who the fuck cares?

[ one to the chest, one to the head, that's more than enough. three is excessive especially if you're trying to conserve ammo, so Reaper can just go eat a dick. as for the thing they just dealt with, mickey looks back over his shoulder as he hand the cigarette back. ]

Fuck if I know, some Anti-Santa thing. Yeah, this shit gets holiday themed, I guess, I don't even know.

...No shit.

[It's the stupidest story he's ever heard, but he also can't think of any reason for Mickey to lie. He kills the last of the cigarette and crushes it under his boot.]

Well, I'm gonna need my own giant axe, because that was extremely fucked up.

I'm telling you, man, people here have been talking about magic like it's the fuckin' weather.

[ this isn't anything he'd ever make up. mickey's never been into the whol fantasy/sci fi scene, so you know this isn't him just making stuff up for shits and giggles. but he smirks at the last comment, giving ian a shove with his shoulder. ]

Hell no, bitch, I worked my ass off for this murder axe. [ which isn't wrong, he did spend a while doing nothing but training with the Bloodborne guys while they were here helping people survive and handing out weapons to people taking it seriously enough. ] Besides, I think the Hunter's fucked off to their own world by now.

So what am I supposed to do then? Headbutt the next one? Or were you just going to follow me around with your private arsenal protecting me from all harm?

[ He's clearly not mad though, more amused. ]

All I have as pea shooter, Mick. It's not enough.

What, you don't like the idea of me being your knight in shining Goodwill swag?

[ mickey says with a shit-eating grin, taking a step or two ahead of ian to turn around and walk backwards facing him, smiling impishly as he tugs the axe and rifle back off his person, holding the gun out. ]

If I let you hold the AK, will it make you feel better? You ever even shoot one of these before, or was it straight to playing hookie with the helicopter for you?

Not if that makes me your helpless bitch.

[ Not that Mickey duel wielding his giant weapons isn't a little hot, but that isn't the point. Ian snatches the gun with fake irritation. ]

Ha ha. I'm sure my fucking aim with one of these things is better than your spray-fire ass.

Pfft. See if I come saving your damsel ass again if this is the thanks I get.

[ which is a bunch of horseshit. there will never be a single moment in history where mickey doesn't immediately jump to defend ian gallagher. it just won't happen. point being, it's all posturing and fuckery. all ian has to do to get the axe in his hands is grab it, mickey isn't going to do anything but maybe bitch and moan a little that he doesn't have his favorite toy. ]

It's just around the corner, anyway, we'll take you for target practice later, Rambo. [ as promised, once they turn the corner, there's the little bungalow house mickey's taken up in, oddly similar to what you might see in chicago, albeit, in a much nicer neighborhood then either of them come from. ]

Oh, what, I'm a damsel now?

[Playfully wraps an arm around Mickey, pulling him close and speaking into his ear.]

I don't seem to remember you feeling that way last night.

[ He realizes suddenly that he isn't exactly sure how much time has actually passed, which as soon as he sees the house becomes a problem for later.]

Jesus. This is yours?

[ ian's arm goes around him and mickey's follows suit, wrapping low around ian's hips and hooking a thumb into the waistband of his jeans. the warm puff of air against the shell of his ear puts a shiver through him and he lolls his head to lean back just enough to find ian's eyes. ]

Never said I wasn't into getting fucked by damsels.

[ he's just saying. you can put on the dress and tiara if you want, dear, he's okay with it.

anywho, about that house. mickey drags the keys out of his jacket pocket once they get to the door, swinging it open for ian to go in and explore. ]

Is now. Finders keepers.

So you are into costumes. I'll remember that.

[Ian grins and licks his lips, brushing them against Mickey's ear before letting him go. He steps into the house and looks around, clearly impressed, touching things as he wanders through. ]

This is amazing! Holy shit. There's space for like 10 people in here.

[ mickey snickers, heat on his skin from the little thrill of ian's lips against his ear. ]

Hey, if you're behind me when it happens, I don't really have to look at the costume, do I?

[ honestly, he's just fucking around, but let's be real, ian could probably talk him into almost anything. maybe not the dress yet. give it a few more seasons. after coming out at the baby shower, there's not really much else left for ian gallagher to poke and prod him into. or so he thinks. he will learn how woefully mistaken he was later.

but he'll worry about jumping him for reunion sex (and telling Ian he's been here for a month already) once they get to through the house. ]

Could be, yeah, but like hell am I packing another 10 people in here, tell your family to stay outta Hellville until we score a mansion. [ well, he technically did score a mansion for a couple days, in that he broke into one, got drunk, trashed it, and then decided it was too big and hollow and creepy to stay in. so, bungalow. ] I'm workin' on metal panels to cover the windows. Spent five minutes thinking about those creepy fucks crawling through some night while I'm sleeping and went straight to digging for scrap metal.

[Ian walks over to knock on the window frames and the walls surrounding them. The idea of a project is very appealing.]

Bet I can help with that. I've never done metal plating exactly, but Monica used to tear the house apart and then we'd have to put it back together.

[There's nothing self-pitying about the comment, just a statement of fact that he's decent at home improvement. He quirks an eyebrow. ]

How bout you show me the upstairs.

[ there's still a few panels of sheet metal and some hinges on the floor near the living room windows - he might have been welding indoors, don't @ him. he certainly doesn't mind the thought of working on a project with ian, and there's a light, lazy smile on his lips while he watches him inspect the windows. ]

Yeah? Between her and Frank it's a miracle there's any house left. But hey, dysfunctional families make for good life skills, right? [ ~the silver lining~. at least their shitty lives taught them some stuff. ] First time I used it blowtorch it was knocking locks off storage pods Terry wanted to rob. I was seven.

[ said with a snorted laugh, because only strikes him as comical. they're fucked up people from a fucked up place full of other fucked up people. but hey, at least they got all the Good At Sex genes, and speaking of which, mickey's brows arch and eyes brighten, pacing his way over to the door that leads to the attic level. and the three different locks that are bolting it. because mickey's just like that. ]

Be my guest. [ said with a snarkily waved hand towards the stairs (of the bolts are all unlocked), like mickey would know hospitality if it slapped him on the ass. ] We got a basement too, but it's just laundry machines and tools down there.

We? We like you and me, or we like a meth dealer is gonna pop out from behind a door?

[ Or whatever scam Mickey is up to, not that Ian cares either way. Everyone just does what they have to. Though if he's honest he'd enjoy a little 1-1 time before the criminal element comes marching through the front door.

He starts up the steps. ]

This place looks pretty lived in. How long have you been here? I feel a little like I'm coming down from a coke nightmare in this place, but I'm pretty sure I saw you like a day ago.

Edited 2019-11-25 22:25 (UTC)

[ there's already a pffff coming out of mickey before ian finishes. ] Fuuuck meth, I hate methheads too much to deal meth. If I'm gonna break bad here I'm doing it with coke or H or something worthwhile.

[ but mickey hasn't heard anything about drug trade around here so he's mostly just worried about surviving. besides, most things they actually need to live are free, so does he really even need to? a train of thought for another day, because he's too focused on the other part of we right now, voice softening a little as he follows behind ian up the stairs, looking down at some invisible dirt under his nails. ]

Nah, we as in you and me. If you're down for it. [ mickey rolls a shoulder, drops his coat on the floor once they hit the attic level, nose twitches to the side. these little fidgeting things he does when he's trying not to be self-conscious about something. ] Or you can fuck off and go find your own house to board up and shove another 10 people into, the fuck do I care.

[ he cares. he cares a lot. he loved waking up next to ian in the gallagher house, in his own house, on some random rich queer's futon, whatever. ]

All the furniture and shit was already here but, uh. 'Bout a month, maybe? [ which is something he doesn't really know how to explain. like, at all. the time part does not make any kind of sense to him. ] Time gets fucked here too, don't ask me about it.

DECEMBER 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

VANISH LIKE THE WARM STOVE

BETTER WATCH OUT

Character Arrival

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