DECEMBER 2019 TEST DRIVE

[sodder]

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.

Comments

Nathan Drake ♦ Uncharted ♦ OTA

[nonscriptum]

♦ BABY IT'S COLD OUTSIDE ♦

[ He's had worse than this.

Nate likes to think he has, at any rate, and at the time he also hadn't been nearly as prepared as he is now by comparison. Bleeding out in Nepal in a thin shirt is a lot less attractive than showing up in a strange place with an equally strange climate after the searing, sticky heat of a remote island in the Indian Ocean. By all accounts he should be more bothered by the abrupt shift in environment but seeing as Nate spent a good couple of years in a goddamn pocket dimension with shifting locations before being shunted back home, and now to here, well. The best he can do is push the events leading up to this circumstance into the very back of his mind and spend all this valuable new time searching for a coat before he freezes his ass off.

He finds the box once he's scrounged a decent jacket from the local off-brand department store - Stacy's, ha - and it's obvious it wasn't there before: sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, plain as day. It's long and thin, the sort of balsa wood contained he might find an ancient scroll in, a tag bearing his name tied around one end that makes him immediately lock up. New town, same old shit.

Sliding the lid open and seeing the contents he snorts just as the temperature seems to drop, and he tucks the box away before heading one store over to see what kind of supplies he can get his hands on with the damp cash from his wallet. ]

Well, the good news is that if I need to light myself on fire, at least I'll be warm for the rest of my life.

♦ DINERS, DRIVE-INS AND DIVES ♦

[ It looks like a piece of streamlined, mid-century architecture that's seen considerably better days, but it's a welcome respite from the chill that seems to suffuse the air outside. Nate runs hot, but even he has his limits.

It's lunchtime (he thinks) but the place is pretty desolate, the aluminum trim rusting at the edges, the smell of slightly-stale coffee hovering like a dense cloud over the formica. The kind of place in a small town where people generally turn to look at you if you don't belong and Nate moves to the counter top, sliding onto a stool next to the first person he sees and waving a hand at the staff at the far end. ]

Any recommendations before I order something I regret?

♦ (BRING IT) AROUND TOWN ♦

[ Nate is on top of Town Hall.

Not senselessly, or without reason, as can be ascertained by the notebook open in one hand, the pencil in the other, the clear attempt at giving himself a better frame of reference for the purpose of exploration (it's not that he doesn't trust the map he was given, but...he doesn't trust the map he was given). The Art Deco building was really a victim by virtue of its tallness, which it certainly can't help, and he made a point not to pass any windows on his climb up while the employees are still inside, fully ignoring any passers-by in the street who might witness the ten seconds it took to scale the painted, cast concrete. Legs dangling over the parapet he pauses briefly, reaching for the weird, flat "phone" he'd gotten in his special delivery. ]

un: indy

anyone know why the books in the library look like they're all cold war editions or earlier? or why the history section is full of redacted material? asking for a friend, who is me.

♦ WILDCARD ♦

[ If none of the above scenarios are of interest, Nate will spend the majority of his time exploring at length and asking questions of any residents. Please feel free to PM this account or hmu on plurk at uncalendula if you want to discuss anything first! ]

TRIPLE D BABEY

[ultimatums]

[ Raylan, in a feat of immense skill, has ditched his undead father god knows where, but the point is that he's alone and free for a little bit – unencumbered, as it were. He's almost gotten used to the peace and quiet already, so when a voice nearby catches his attention he starts a little nervously, but that was nothing remotely close to Arlo, who sounds cruel just by virtue of the curl of his lip. ]

Uh, [ Raylan says helpfully. He's just here for coffee and quiet, hunched over it with his hat on the free stool next to him. Usually he'd be at the bar, but that's probably the first place Arlo would go looking, if he has to look. Raylan isn't even sure about that. Maybe he has some preternatural sense of where Raylan is, in which case this might not end well. ] Coffee tastes better than it smells.

[nonscriptum]

[ Were this a bar, Nate wouldn't feel so comfortable annoying his counter top neighbors with questions, but there's a reason he sought out a restaurant before resorting to a bar. He isn't in the mood to go rubbing anyone the wrong way by accident, and judging by the menu he won't run the risk of encountering the drunk and disorderly types unless they're here for the express purpose of sobering up. ]

A ringing endorsement.

[ He quips, raising his eyebrows. He manages to flag a server down and nods to the drip coffee near the kitchen door before extrapolating. ]

...sorry for interrupting your thinking, but I- uh, just got here, so. Trying to get my bearings.

[ultimatums]

[ Raylan huffs out a laugh, shrugging with his mouth a little. Fair enough. Yeah, this place doesn't scream high quality, but then most diners don't anyway. You get what you're given. ]

Hey, no. Appreciate the company. [ Raylan gives him a sympathetic grin and a side-eye, lifting his coffee cup as a cheers before he has another sip. ] Just got here, huh? How's that hittin' ya?

[nonscriptum]

[ Honestly, Nate would prefer this over a Michelin star restaurant. He gives a little nod of gratitude to the wait staff as a plain, white mug of steaming black coffee is placed in front of him, accompanied by creamer and sugar. Nate bypasses both and takes a sip of the stuff plain with a satisfied hiss through his teeth. ]

Y'know, I've been hit by a lot of things in my time, but it sucks pretty hard. Not my first- [ He waves his free hand. ] -alternate dimension, but I'd kinda hoped the previous one was my last?

[ultimatums]

[ Not his first alternate dimension. Raylan nods, like that makes even a blind bit of sense, which is what he's been doing relentlessly every time someone says something remotely weird to him around here. ]

Novelty's worn off, huh? I get that. [ In an empathy sort of way. ] So what was the last one like? Or do I not wanna know?

[nonscriptum]

Changed locations a lot so the layout was hard to keep track of. Regularly-scheduled disasters. Monsters.

[ Judging by the stiffness in that nod he can recognize something that wavers between skepticism and sheer incredulity, which tells him the man with the hat - delicately bequeathed its own seat - isn't from or of a place like this. ]

If it makes you feel any better the the only magic people do where I'm from is that stuff you see on a Vegas stage. Sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors, that kind of thing.

[ It occurs to Nate somewhat belatedly that he can actually do conventional magic due in no small part to Hadriel, but that seems like a lot to just throw at a near-stranger. ]

the guy fieri special

[scottishplay]

[Sally's layered up and trying to warm herself at the counter while idly chewing on the straw from her complimentary water when a man sits next to her. Not an unusual happenstance, but with luck, he won't be a creepy rando. Though it's not as if she can actually give a solid recommendation, being new in town herself, but she's definitely got enough learned confidence to pretend as if she does.]

Omelettes. Their omelettes are bomb. And breakfast food is better when it's not breakfast anyway.

[She reaches over before the staff at the counter even has a chance to drop him off a menu to shove her own in front of him, flipping it directly open to the substantial Eggs section.]

Plus they've got like a zillion choices, so. And they've even got vegan egg substitutes if you're into that. I tried going vegan once, but I just ended up missing ice cream too much. Non-dairy ice cream is way too close to the texture of snowcones, but also somehow not close enough.

[Congrats, you've immediately run into someone talkative enough that if you are a skeevy rando, she'll be able to run you off in seconds.]

screw Deerington, take a trip to FLAVOR TOWN

[nonscriptum]

[ Nate hasn't been sitting for longer than five seconds when a laminated menu is slid a foot in his direction, conveniently opened to the most important and critical section of any diner's culinary repertoire: breakfast. It's clear that eggs are the preferred vehicle of foodstuffs here and Nate, who is fond of greasy spoons in all their varied forms, isn't about to mess with a solid formula. ]

Could never get the hang of being vegetarian or vegan.

[ He says a little distractedly, scanning the expansive list of omelettes, frittatas, and scrambles. Nate picks something at random, pointing to a selection on the slightly-sticky sheet and glancing to the wait staff. They scribble something down and walk away, which gives him the opportunity to turn and look at the woman next to him.

Bundled, blonde, and nursing a glass of water. He raises an eyebrow at the latter and wonders how presumptuous it would be to offer to get her a coffee. ]

I grew up mostly in South America, it's sort of frowned upon if you don't eat meat.

pondering what the omelette selection would be in a guy fieri outfit now

[scottishplay]

[Sally has to take a moment to recover from the fact that she's already surprised within two sentences of meeting someone. Then she has to take a moment to recover from the fact that being surprised an apparently white dude with no accent grew up in South America is kind of a dick move.

The pace of her face journey is such that this conversational bump in the road is gone faster than it came.]

—Oh, yeah, I mean, I grew up in Missouri and I don't think I ever met anyone who was vegan or anything the whole time I was there, so.

[It's not a competition, Sally.]

So did you just get here? I sorta did too. It's kinda crazy trying to wrap your head around, right? I mean, it was the start of summer before I woke up here and now it's basically Christmas, how fucked up is that?

smothered and covered with nacho cheese and dorito-blasted bacon bits OF COURSE

[nonscriptum]

[ Nate can't say he's ever met anyone from Missouri, but then again, his exposure to people is mostly relegated to those he's met outside the United States. The last couple of years he's been settling more into domestic acquaintances.

But that's what happens when you grow up without a brick and mortar home. ]

Yeeeah, a couple hours ago? Been getting a handle on the layout since then. I was in a jungle before this so-

[ Nate gestures to his attire, which is much more weather-appropriate for the current climate. ]

Wasn't exactly prepared, y'know? I'm Nate.

diner time

[dramaquinn]

[ Sometimes Alice misses being the outcast of wherever she is. It was quiet, it made studying easier, it left her to channel her anger into anything other than people who don't deserve it. Here, it's harder. She's not Alice of the Chicago Quinns, not the girl whose brother died a horrible death trying to help a friend. She's not the best and brightest and most hated.

She's just another Sleeper, and that's kind of nice, except for all the social interaction she can't always avoid.

Anyway, this is her life now. She washes down a mouthful of bacon with a sip of coffee, puts down her cup, and turns to the man who decided he had to sit next to her. ]

The breakfast menu is good. And the coffee.

[ He's new. She can tell because most people know that about the diner. She should be welcoming, maybe. Start new, make new connections now that her old ones are... fraying.

Unfortunately, that involves being good at small talk, and Alice is not good at small talk. So she just rips open another packet of sugar and pours it into her cup. A waitress comes by and refills it. Alice addd another packet of sugar. ]

[nonscriptum]

[ It's a very simple answer, one which leaves almost nothing to the imagination and no room for misinterpretation. Judging by the specials on the wall and the steaming pot of drip coffee in the corner she isn't wrong, as the former heavily features egg-based foods and that's something that Nate can get behind.

He's not anticipating friendliness. Nate has been in worse places with undeniably worse folks, and being a little standoffish isn't a crime, so for a long moment he watches as she assaults her coffee with sugar and then he gestures to the server that he'd like the same.

Less sucrose, please.

There's a mildly uncomfortable silence as he waits to receive a steaming mug of thick, oil-black coffee and when he pulls it into his hands he can feel some of the tension bleed from his shoulders. ]

So. Been here a while?

[dramaquinn]

[ This really is That Conversation, isn't it. ]

Just a few months. Enough to know what's good here.

[ She gestures vaguely at the diner as she lifts her cup and drinks the sweet, sweet, literally sweet coffee. ]

You're new, so... expect the unexpected.

[ Excellent advice, Alice. ]

[nonscriptum]

[ Sucks to be a cliché, but Nathan Drake is conspicuously lacking in the "small talk" department as well, which is why his attempts are so heinously predictable. He has moments of being utterly, ridiculous thick-headed, but he's not so stupid that he can't tell he's already infringing on alone time and personal space. ]

Oh, I'm not new.

[ Nate indulges in some caffeine of his own, grateful that it burns all the way down. He sucks a breath through his teeth. ]

New to here, yeah, but getting tossed into another world that likes to throw weird crap at you on the regular? No.

[dramaquinn]

[ He mentions other worlds, and Alice start to really listen. She's familiar with other worlds, with the way they all seem to harbor an extreme dislike for strangers. ]

Are you a traveler?

[ Or a Traveler? His answer will tell her. She glances at him. Travelers look human, and are human, but are also... somewhat not. Their power is part of them, not dependent on the whims of gods. ]

around town, kind of, just tosses ur prompt around a bit

[pocketspa]

[Okay, look, it's not like Taako has a habit of climbing around on buildings. He's not that kind of crazy guy, and even with his magic harder to deal with here, he's still always gonna prefer flying if he needs to get to the top of things. Today he's just on the ground though, but looking up- there's been a lot of weird shit falling out of the sky lately, and if those goddamn hunters are looking to jump him again he honestly wants to be prepared.

Really, the interesting thing is that Taako doesn't see Nate at first despite seeing him-- it's just so normal an idea to think of Nathan Drake on top of the biggest building in town he doesn't even question it.

For about five seconds. Then he really questions it.

Taako stops, tilting the brim of his hat so he can look up and see the other man, squinting like he could somehow tell by sight if this is the right one-- what are the chances, right? He shouldn't be here. He-- well, not couldn't. Nothing's operating over there these days.]

Hey! Roof dingus! Lemme see that face of yours, you're only allowed to break and enter if you're handsome!

[At least that might get him to look down and start this process.]

[nonscriptum]

[ Nate is facing the other direction, of course, when he hears it. Something faint but high-pitched and very distinct. At first he doesn't recognize the voice but the intonation, so deliberate in its delivery, so clearly familiar yet far away. No one on the rooftop, no one on the neighboring building, so when he turns fully toward the street again and sees the hat, it hits him square in the chest.

No one else he's ever known has so avidly called him dingus. ]

...Taako?

[pocketspa]

[He doesn't expect it to be Nate. He expects it even less to be a Nate that knows who he is. Taako swallows hard, trying to stop any sort of hope in his chest, reminding himself that there are other worlds and other places between dimensions and what are the fucking chances of anyone else from Hadriel getting here--

He doesn't spend more time thinking of those things. Instead, he casts levitate on himself and uses his new weightlessness to climb up without resistance, effectively just causing momentum as he pulls from handhold to handhold. Taako's up there in no time, crouching and tilting his head, a smile on to mask any confusion he could feel.]

Are you for fuckin' real right now? This cannot be the Hadriel dropoff station, I will riot right here.

un: avesatanas

[instructionmanual]

It's obvious, isn't it?
They've redacted the material because they don't want you to have it.

[nonscriptum]

you know, i kind of figured that? but i've heard it's unwise to assume. you make an ass out of u and me.

[instructionmanual]

It's only an assumption if you regard it as the truth, no matter what anything says to the contrary.
I think it's safe to say that, given our situation, somebody or somebodies don't want us to know everything.

[nonscriptum]

it was pretty much the same deal the last time i got dimensionally kidnapped, so i'm not surprised. it's a whole lot easier to control people when they don't know what's going on.

[instructionmanual]

Are you often dimensionally kidnapped?
It is easier to control people, especially groups that think based on what those around them do, if you feed them lies.
But the clever will realize that there’s always a reason for everything.

There’s a library in the first place, why?
They redact information after creating a building where that info should be freely given, why?
They’re creating a setting of mistrust simply by saying ‘this is where answers might be but you can’t have them’.

It’s manipulation.

NO CHRISTMAS MUSIC >:(

[missiondeterminant]

[Connor is not a fan of the cold.

In fact, it's one of the few things on a very short list of likes and dislikes, which he's been putting together for approximately a week now. It's still difficult to sort out what's his programming and what's his personality--which isn't helped by that he's also still sort of in denial that he even has a personality--and then even more so to figure out what he's feeling, so making decisions about preferences has been a struggle.

But he knows he hates the cold, which is why he's none too impressed with the recent change in the weather. He's sulking in the store when Nate enters, a beanie hat he'd definitely stolen legally purchased shortly after he first arrived in this place pulled down over his LED, and glances over at the comment.]

You aren't guaranteed to die.

[So really there isn't even that upside to lighting oneself on fire, even the promise of warmth.]