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JANUARY 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME
JANUARY 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME
Welcome to January's Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: OCEAN 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.
PLEASE NOTE FOR CHARACTER ARRIVALS: This month, all players can choose to have their characters wake up in the town of Deerington or on the Titanic.
CW: Ghost of a child, rotting corpses, drowning, hallucinations, paranoia
Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!
WHERE FEET MAY FAIL

But it's almost preferable to the visions. They start off while you're sleeping; large sea monsters roaming the ocean, waiting to pull you down into the darkened depths; or maybe it's a strange, ghost looking girl with glowing eyes and tattered clothing, her skin blue and rotting the way a body does when it's been submerged in water for too long. She's calling out to you, beckoning you down, and all around her are the strung up, floating corpses of the people who were foolish enough to listen.
It's just a dream though, right? Slowly you start to see the girl around town. She's still calling to you, watching you, waiting for you. If you get too close, she'll even be able to grab onto you, pulling you down into the waterlogged streets, and into what you thought was only a puddle of water. It's as deep as an ocean, and just as dark and cold too. Someone near by can grab onto you before she can drag you under and the vision will disappear. If no one does, maybe if you're a strong swimmer, you'll be able to struggle free, but when you resurface, there will be a bruise forming on your arm in the shape of a hand – something to remind you that maybe these visions are a little more real than you gave them credit for.
The only way to stay safe is to travel in pairs. The girl seems to keep her distance when there's more than one person around, but it doesn't mean she won't try to find the means to separate you. Whether it's increasing the flooding in certain areas of the street or trying to distract one of you long enough to put some distance between you and your comrade, she'll do whatever it takes to try and grab onto whoever she can.
GHOST SHIP

There's nothing anyone can do to change things, though, and so many find themselves getting lost in day to day activities. Whether it's working on the ship, enjoying the finer foods in the first class dining halls, or enjoying the rowdy parties in third class storage after hours, everyone seems to be finding something to keep themselves occupied. As the days pass, even those who know full well what's coming seem to forget the looming doom, and you might even find yourself feeling lost in the monotony of day to day life.
But those who stare into the water too long, who look at the strange, large shapes swimming just under the surface might find a sense of dread filling them. The paranoia will shake you to your very core, leaving you with a sense that all is not right with this journey. You can try to tell people, but most will look at you as though you're insane. Eventually, your fear will become so heavy that you start to see destruction all around you. Whole sections of the ship will look flooded, rotting wood and rusted steel taking over every inch of the once proud ship, and every section is covered in algae. You might start to realize it looks uncannily like an old shipwreck.
The ship is still floating, though, and the coarse steady. So it's all in your head, right? Staying away from the water will make the visions and paranoia eventually ebb, but any glance at the floating shapes will cause it to come back tenfold. Maybe just stay inside and away from the ship's edge. It seems a lot safer that way.
Character Arrival
You can read how all characters arrive in Deerington here.NOTE: Character's this month can wake up in Deerington or on the Titanic.
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.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce | Angel: the Series/Buffyverse
[That is... disturbing. Dreaming of vicious, horrific sea creatures is disturbing. Having a clearly dead and drowned girl beckoning to you is disturbing. Having these images follow you into the day is disturbing.
All of it is. But Wesley is a professional, so he stares at the vision with what he hopes passes as... some sort of... bravery because he's scared. Just plain human instinct that doesn't care how much supernatural stuff you may have encountered in your life scared.]
Do you see that?
[He isn't sure if he's talking to himself or the person next to him. His voice is small, a little too soft and he blinks, once, twice, shaking his head. He doesn't want to be that guy. He takes that guy as a client, sitting him down, telling him it's going to be okay.]
Do you see her? A... a girl? Do you see a girl?
ii. Where my feet may fail – Almost drowning
[He got too close.
Of course he got too close, it's not like he ever learns. Fortunately, he manages to break free and fight and claw and survival his way out of this puddle that is anything but.
And then he runs (or something of the sort). He's coughing miserably, sputtering, clutching his arm close to his chest and hobbling towards the first person he sees in the streets.]
H-hello!
[It was supposed to be a yell but it's more of a gasp before his voice breaks into another coughing fit.
He's terrified, still in the clutches of almost drowning and frantic from the experience.]
Please, I need some help here!
i - omg wesley!! my fave!
Wesley's not the first person to speak to her, but he is the first person to mention something she's been seeing herself. ] The girl? [ she clarifies, eyes widening a little. ] Not just then, but... I've seen her. I thought it was just me.
[ Being psychic makes her a lot more prone to weird metaphysical bullshit, even if she hasn't been through advanced training yet. She's not a Psi-Judge for nothing. ]
hello!! /o/
[Wesley sighs in relief, then pauses.]
Well... not in the sense of general positivity, of course. But, a shared encounter diminishes the possibility of us losing our respective minds quite significantly. ... Unless these hauntings were to continue, of course, I admit they're already putting quite a strain on-- regardless.
[Focus. Focus.
Wesley forces himself to tear his eyes off the apparition and take a first good look at his companion. He seems momentarily distracted by her armor and hesitates, losing his train of thought.]
Miss... Anderson, I presume? The girl, you... don't happen to have seen her in your dreams, do you?
no subject
Anderson pulls her thoughts together, which is something of a struggle. It's getting overwhelming, being here. Something about interacting with someone is cementing it in a way that just wandering around a dreamworld didn't. She's not sure she wants to reveal she's psychic yet - it's not a secret, it's just that mutant bigotry is alive and well - but it makes it otherwise difficult for her to be a credible source. ]
It's not a delusion, [ she's able to say, at least, with a tense frown. ] I'm pretty sure we're in a large scale shared dream right now. [ Maybe he'll just not ask how she knows that. ] I don't know who's directing it, but we aren't losing our minds.
no subject
[It's automatic and followed by a bewildered pause as the title fully registers. Judge? Odd.
But horrific visions and drowned little girls take precedence right now so he files the information away for later.]
Shared dream, interesting theory...
[He hums, tapping his chin, losing himself in thought now that he's prompted on.]
But how did we enter it? And when? It would take a powerful spell to create such a vivid, palpable environment. A demon? Blood magic? The girl, is she part of this or an outside disturbance?
no subject
His speculation is not totally out of line with what another Psi-Judge might say, but it's a little more wild in the theorizing than Anderson's comfortable with. She's only heard the barest whispered rumors of demons, and no one uses words like spells. Since he didn't openly criticize her despite her lack of credibility or evidence, she does the same, but her expression takes on a more deeply thoughtful, uncertain cast. ]
If it's really a shared dream, it could just be someone's nightmare. Especially if someone here has a strong mental presence - if they know what they're doing, it's not that hard to override someone else's thoughts. [ She does that all the time. It's just weird that she can't retake control here, can't even get the barest toehold. ]
Whoever's orchestrating it is definitely powerful, dream or not, [ she concludes. ]
no subject
[These are all very good points, following his own train of thought and it's enough to make Wesley disregard the strange uncanny apparition for now and focus on her again with newfound interest.]
Forgive me, but from what I'm hearing you seem rather familiar with these kind of events...
[Which is to be expected in a world such as this, probably, but still enough of a novelty in his own life that her pragmatic approach stands out to him.]
I recently found myself relocated to this place and have yet to find my way around. I'd be interested in hearing your theories about who or what might be connected to all this, should you have any.
no subject
I've been here less than a day, [ she admits, grimacing. ] Haven't even gotten to find other clothes yet so I stand out less. I'm -- [ Anderson pauses, letting out a breath, making a decision. ] I wouldn't say I'm familiar, but I have psychic abilities and training. I can recognize when I'm being messed with.
[ For all the good that's doing her here. It helps her affirm reality, that she's not losing it, that the people around her are similarly real and caught up in this trap - but that's about it. ]
no subject
But you're human?
[His voice suggests that he wouldn't be too shocked to hear if she weren't. But it picks up, suddenly excited at the prospect of new information.]
Are you, then? Being messed with? Can your powers discern the nature of what it is that brought us here? Have you attempted to make contact, did you happen to hear a voice when you were transported here, did it--
[-- and he stops when he realizes he's rambling more than asking, clearing his throat.]
Forgive me. I don't mean to bombard you with these questions, it's just that it has been a... deeply unsettling experience. To say the least.
no subject
I'm human, [ she confirms, deciding not to go into the details. Humans with genetic mutations are still humans. ] That we're in a shared dream isn't a theory. I can feel my body, still sleeping, I just can't get to it. I haven't been able to figure anything else out - dreams aren't my strong point - but...
[ A short hesitation. ] I can hear whispering sometimes. I can't make it out.
no subject
[Wesley pulls a face at that thought. He's had a few enounters with those, albeit not personally affected, and in his experience they never end well.]
Have you... heard them ask for help?
[Though he isn't exactly sure who they are.]
no subject
[ She's not sure what to make of the continual references to magic, but it seems like the least of her problems, honestly. ]
no subject
[It's his go to response to the unknown. Try and make it a little... less unknown.]
The girl, she might be referenced in there somewhere...
no subject
That said, it's not like Anderson has a better idea. She's just been running on autopilot. ]
I was going to keep looking around, see if anything else came up. By the way - what's your name?
no subject
[He thinks. He hopes.]
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. A pleasure, Mi-- Judge Anderson.
no subject
Have to admit, my investigations tend to feature questioning perps and witnesses, not going to the library. Maybe we should split up and meet back later, sir. See what we find separately. [ She's not afraid of book work, but Anderson knows what she's good at, and it's getting information out of living people. ]
ii — well hello...stranger........fancy seeing you here 👀
not that he might anticipate even so much as a flooded pothole being capable of housing the eerie presence of the small rotting figure persistent through the nights of recent sleep, but it's been a matter of...following some self-preservation instinct. Ben tends to listen to that particular voice in his head.
(tends to — but not always.)
he doesn't mean to ignore the voice that hollers, or the man that goes along with it, when turning out to join the street. damp sleet flutters through the air, as if nature can't decide what mood she wants to be, and settles for some awful meld of rain and snow. Ben has his head ducked down against it, a scarf, enchantedly warm — literally — wrapped heavily as high as it can reach without fully cocooning his face. makes it a little difficult to hear, or see, when he gets the sense that someone is calling.
it takes the hand that grapples for him to orient Ben toward the person in question...unfortunately, it also manages to startle him. it doesn't help that his entire frame is wound tight as a string coiled close to snapping from the cold, and the weeks of muscle tension. it's a miracle that Ben hasn't popped a vertebrae out of his spine. )
Jesus—! My apologies— sorry, are you...? ( cheeks and nose an almost comical shade of red, he turns his full attention onto the man, and...pauses at the sight of him. startled, drenched to the bone, cradling his arm to his chest. eyes go more circular, aware and dreading, and it's enough for him to pull his hands out to hold the man by one arm, tentative but ready to brace him if the moment comes. ) What happened? ( said with the ominous certainty that something has happened, something perhaps on the caliber of warranting a capital S at the head of it. when you've lived in Deerington for long enough — you just know. )
ayy we meet again /points at eyes points forward c:
The girl, she--
[His eyes are impossibly wide as he digs his fingers into the man's arms like he's afraid of going under again.
Words, he's good with words. Expressing them. Using them. But they seem to be stuck in his throat, he can't get them out.]
She was in the water, I... I was in the water, do not get too close, they're deep--
[There is a part of him that realizes he's rambling, that he's not making any sense. His arm hurts, he should mention that. Has he mentioned that? They need to get away from the water. He needs to save this man! It's his job, it's what he does, it's so dreadfully cold...]
She's out there, she's real...
i couldn't resist enabling your possible consideration of this place!! (cw: description of decay)
for one small burst of hopeful stupidity, the clue doesn't connect. girl — what girl? it nearly begs to question in Ben's mind, he who hasn't heard anyone else acknowledge the bizarre visitations of the little one he keeps seeing down in water depths, her flesh bloated and piecing away—
Ben might have looked as though ready to ask, lips pulling apart to pose a question for it, but it takes just that long for the reality to occur to him. in the end, realization sharpens his expression: someone else has seen her, someone else knows her...and she is here, now.
the drenched, shaking man rattles at Ben, and that's when both of his hands close around his shivering arms, just under the round slope of shoulders — to stabilize, to reassure. )
All right — slow down. ( Ben's voice is nearly hushed, not quite so skilled at placating through tone. he withdraws a hand to pull at the scarf from around his throat like a loose thread in a sweater, and it comes away freely. the ropes of yarn permeate warmth of their own, enchanted far beyond his own capabilities. Ben lifts it up and pulls it around the stranger's neck. ) Here, take his for now, you're freezing. ( thanks, Ben, he might not have noticed if you didn't point it out.
he looks up the street, a simple commercial strip of modest mom and pop stores. the book store stands just steps away, warm and hazy-lit, and away from the elements. Ben looks back at the other; he doesn't even think of escaping the vicinity of the haunted water, as much as he thinks of just getting out of the cold before hypothermia sets in. ) We should get you inside — then, tell me what you saw.
thank you!! <3 i'm having a blast so far
[It's small, a sort of ingrained, automated politeness that is no less heartfelt for it. Wesley calms somewhat; being spoken to helps, the physical contact helps, gives him something to focus on. When the scarf wraps around his neck its warmth finds him instantly and he clutches at the fabric in delighted surprise as if he could will it to spread to the rest of his chilled body.]
Inside, yes...
[It makes sense, he thinks but it's hard to think, all he can focus on is the one source of warmth wrapped around his throat. It does help to guide him back to the here and now, however, and he loses the haunted look, his eyes more alert than before.
One step after the other. Breathe in and out. He nods, indicating that he's listening, that he understands and follows the man's lead to wherever they're headed.]
no subject
they shuffle inside, their clamoring movements alone deafening in the sleepy, quiet shop. it's warmer in here, certainly, and much to Ben's relief at least — thus, he can only imagine how the other man is doing right now.
there's a petite sofa near the window, a cozy spot for avid literature enthusiasts — just don't mind the copies quite literally...spilling up the opposite wall and out across the ceiling like a tripped paint can gone wild. the pages flip and sigh idly above them like some JK Rowling atmospheric oddity. Ben doesn't give it any consideration as he urges the man to sit, pulling a knit throw draped over one end of the furniture. it goes around the man's shoulders immediately. )
I'm Ben — are you...sorry, I don't mean to be presumptuous, but. ( Ben sits beside him, but his gaze goes right back out the window in paranoia; Christ, the girl, the one from the dreams, or have they been visions? he hasn't been able to decide since they started. it should be no surprise that after multiple nights of disturbed sleep, the presence would begin to manifest here in the town. ) Have you been in Deerington very long? ( hardly as if Ben is some local socialite with all the 411 on Sleepers in the area, but — he's an info-hoarder, and he's vaguely aware of most of the stolen people brought into this strange place after studying the town for months. this man's face is...unfamiliar.
perhaps that's not quite it; this man's is painfully reminiscent of Ben himself, and it's moreso that he thinks he would just...know if there were other bookish, nervous, English stereotypes like himself. it's like looking in a mirror, and it feels like a cosmic punchline. )
no subject
I have not.
[That much is clear, he's very new to this world and that is something he knows, something he can answer and that feels good, too; helps him get a grip, to shake off the general sense of terror, regain some agency.]
I was... out, exploring, getting a lay of the land. [His voice starts faint but grows stronger over time. Talking. It does him good, putting things into words, finding his voice again even though every breath is still raspy, reminds him of the cold, wet death he almost suffered.]
I saw her, in the streets, a girl. She had come to me before, in dreams, in... visions but when I approached the specter it... reached for me. Pulled me down.
[He holds up his hand, showing him the arm, marked by the unmistakable handprint.]
She's out there. W-we have to warn people! Is there a phone, is there-- [He reaches out, his eyes wide again as he grabs Ben's shoulders in sudden insistence.]
They need to stay away from the water!
no subject
'—had come to be before, in dreams,' and that's when Ben perks up with a force that is nearly a whole new presence amongst them. recognition lights his face like a fire that sharpens down his expression as he focuses on the other man's explanation, detailing his narrowly-survived encounter. she's calling to Sleepers in their — well, sleep. can she hypnotize, or lure them? both synonymous with water, in fact.
pardon Ben while he pulls away to dip his hands into his coat, into his blazer pocket for a small notebook and a pen. girl, dreams/visions, attacks, water.
the water. Ben looks him over once more with a renewed keenness for the details: he's sopping wet, but it isn't raining or snowing outside. he racks with the man's leverage where he pins him with his hands, his energy urgent, but Ben just stares at him as if calculating some math formula in his head. )
—Pulled you down where? Was it Lake Tomie, or Koji Pond? ( posed in a tone that suggests those two locations are just as well the only two options available for answer. )
no subject
[It's puzzled, he's puzzled. His eyes dart down to the notebook, up to Ben's face again and he's not quite sure what's happening here. He's too used to filling that role, to taking notes, to assessing and now that he's not there is a moment in which he is at a loss what to do and doesn't he understand how very urgent all of this--
Focus.]
No, it wasn't a large body of water, it was more like... a...
[His mouth opens, closes. His hand comes up gesturing, goes down again.]
A puddle?
[It's really not fair how ridiculous that sounds, so he clarifies]
A scary puddle. It was deep. ... Despite not being a large body of water which, I meant, I referred to the extent of the--
[-- he stops long enough to ask--]
There is a Koji Pond?
no subject
he's about to leap in and center the man again, because he sees it and subsequently relives the very reeling shock that comes with this place, the things that occur in it, that happen to all of them. the man, however, in a singular moment does it on his own — Ben watches the shift in his demeanor, his expression more neutral, focused. good, this is good, they're talking now and the man says it was a—
oh. um. )
A...puddle. ( a scary puddle... Ben flatly echoes, in part to confirm what he heard was correct, in part because it's...difficult to conceptualize. until, his own expression flickers and he jerks out of that thought and onto a new track, one with a wider scope, complete with eyes squinting shut and hands shaking briefly into the air before him. ) No, sorry— I know better than to think anything sounds ridiculous in this town. ( and yet, some days, the things he hears about reach ever new incredible heights of impossibility. )
Erm, yes, there is. ( Ben's own associations to a pond and Koji are a little personal, admittedly, though hardly niche to the world at large; have we another travel enthusiast in our midst, as well? blinking again, Ben decides a tentative pursuit: ) It's quite...scenic.
—Perhaps not now, though, with this ominous girl haunting the place. I've seen her, as well. ( right, back to the part involving visions and a girl and attempted drownings. that's like, the important part, right? ) Only just...not so up close as you did. ( said apologetically. ) If you and I have seen her, then I suspect the rest of the Sleepers are seeing her in their visions, as well.