JUNE 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

[sodder]

JUNE 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to June's Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: FAIRY FANTASY 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: Alligators (pictured & written), pictures of skulls, violence, mention of corpses, possession, possible death
Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK

The low sound of growling coming from the pipes should probably be a cause for concern, but is it really that strange for Deerington? Is anything that strange anymore? There's been people talking about monsters again, the kind that snatch kids and small animals without mercy through the gates in the road and someone said they saw something that looked practically prehistoric pop up through a manhole on the north side of Main Street. He was drunk, though, so who's really gonna believe the ravings of a college kid on a bender.

The growling sometimes comes with hisses, a strange snapping sound, and the occasional scratching of claws against metal or stone. There's something down there alright, but are you going to go try and find it yourself or just hope someone else takes care of it?

Anyone who ventures into the sewers will find that it's become home to some rather large and terrifying beasts; alligators, to be precise, but not normal ones. Oh, no, that would be too easy. These have clearly been mutated, grown to a much larger size than any alligator anyone has ever seen, with teeth as sharp as diamonds and they're ready to rip you apart in one bite. The skin is hard as rock on top, but the underbelly is still soft as ever. Looks like you'll know where to aim if you decide to fight.

Those who don't go into the sewers can still find that the alligators are indeed popping up from manholes, or coming out of from the drains along the road, and if you're not careful, they might even manage to somehow find a way through the pipes and into your home. It shouldn't be possible, but anyone who's been in this town long enough can tell you that anything is possible.

These large alligators take at least two people to take it down. One particularly strong person may be able to fight it off themselves, but it's going to be dangerous and you'll probably walk away severely injured. The more who join in, the easier it will go. Normal weapons will work fine on the underbelly, but the top skin will be incapable of being penetrated by even the most advanced of weapons. Magic seems to have a particularly strong effect on them, however, so maybe you should think of teaming up with a wizard.

RIDDEN THE BACK OF THE WIND

The smell of corpses is what hits you first; it's overwhelming and impossible to escape, no matter how hard you try. It seems to take over the entire town at random intervals, and the first thing you'll notice is the locals running indoors. They'll slam all windows that face west shut and lock them tight, or maybe go so far as to close any open windows and doors all together, and they'll stay there until it's passed. You'd be wise to do the same.

The wind picks up quickly and there's the sound of what could be hummingbirds, but doesn't sound quite right. The fairies that come through are looking primarily for the dead or dying to whisk away their souls, but being particularly sadistic bastards, they're prone to getting sidetracked by tormenting the living as well. They'll swarm unsuspecting victims in the outdoors, picking them up and pulling them high above the streets as they circle them. If you're caught, they'll swarm around you, the humming becoming unbearably loud and the vibrations shaking your body down to the very core. The evil within them will consume you and when they drop you - which they always do - you'll find that you're filled with a violent and uncontrollable rage.

This rage will cause you to attack anyone and everyone around you with whatever weapon you are most efficient with. You're not just here to do mild harm, you're out for blood, and you'll soon as kill your best friend if it means quieting the darkness welling up inside you.

The only means of curing the darkness is by purifying it with light; this can be interpreted metaphorically by having someone with a pure intentions try and love you through your own pain or literally by having someone use light magic or bright, shining sun lamps to literally overwhelm the darkness inside of you and give it no place to escape. It's entirely up to the player.

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

Tick Tock

[threelayers]

[One of those folks who qualified as a "bystander" was anything but. A dark-haired, green eyed 'native' watched with fake horror while the thing came tearing out of the sewer and started waddling and charging towards him. The call to 'get back' was obeyed by pretty much everyone, but whatever he might be warning about, when that thing's tail whipped, a chunk of ashault struck a nearby awning. It dropped down toward the shrieking native before Qrow had a chance to get to her and when it hit... she just...

shattered.]

: [As the awning apparently doomed some poor native made out of glass, a figure in brown, white and pink came lunging out of the other side of his vision, bringing her umbrella down and trying to wedge it right under the midriff of the thing, hoping when it opened to topple it to its side or overboard for just a second. That would piss it off, but it would also get it off of him for a moment.

She glanced at him and winked wordlessly.]

[bolstafir]

[Qrow Branwen brings misfortune. It's been his burden, his curse, for as long as he could remember. That's why he's always tried to keep his distance, always lived his life scanning for potential hazards and accidents, learned to keep his eyes and ears sharp and his reflexes sharper.

But sometimes bad luck is simply just that; unavoidable, unstoppable. Qrow sees the awning separate from the roof from his spot on the ground and reaches out for Harbinger, but there's not enough time. He screams out in time with the "native", before she suddenly shatters into glass, some other woman appearing from another direction. Was that...?

He doesn't have time to process any reaction to this sequence of events, be it shock or confusion or pain or even the ever-present guilt, because suddenly the umbrella opens under the creature and flips it to its side, leaving Qrow the perfect window to grab Harbinger and fire several shotgun shells into its vulnerable belly.

Once it stops moving, he takes a moment to settle down his breathing before he pulls himself up to his feet.]

...Thanks.

[...]

Uh. Was that you? The glass?

[Please let that have been you. He's not sure he's emotionally competent to deal with the possibility that he might have just gotten a bystander killed right now.]

[threelayers]

[As Harbinger did what Harbinger was meant to do, she watched, doing a quick cartwheel back both to put some distance from the tail in case there were death spasms, which there absolutely were, and from Qrow. It was not that she knew what his semblance did. The name Qrow Branwen was a name that was bandied in the ranks of Cinder's group, but she had never actually met the man, and he was more talked about by reputation.

But no, a scythe that had a gun in it was a very ... distinctive weapon. Not a lot of people used those, weapons reminiscent of the Grim Reaper. They were popular, but nobody could use them right and it got more people killed than it did saved their asses, so seeing one kind of screamed "this fucker's either from Remnant or really similar." She needed to be a tiny bit careful.

But he didn't turn it on her right after, so she grinned at him and bowed playfully, doing a nice little curtsy and bringing Hush up onto her shoulder to twirl. Oh, had he asked a... glass? She glanced at the collapsed awning and giggled silently before nodding and giving him a tip with the bowler hat.]

[bolstafir]

[Oh, thank the gods. He lets out a breath of pure relief at that, glad he doesn't need to bear the weight of someone's life on his shoulders on top of everything else about this situation. What does it even mean to kill someone within a dream? He doesn't know and he doesn't want to.

That hat looks familiar, though, in a way he can't seem to place. His glance lingers a moment before he lets it go as either unimportant or a side effect of being overwhelmed by his arrival. He shakes his head as though to clear it.]

That's a pretty interesting power. Haven't seen one like it before.

[Okay, he's fishing a little for details, but he's curious, so sue him. He's also feeling a bit at a loss in what's out there in a world outside Remnant and its Semblances, and he doesn't care for that feeling one bit. Having information is a spy's business, after all.]

[threelayers]

[He could also chalk it up later to bowler hats being really popular at one point, and the fact that she wore it a lot better than the last guy who'd worn it. Plenty of excuses to go around if he wanted them. His scythe was certainly a little familiar, though neither he nor his neice were absolutely the only ones who liked that weapon. The Reaper had been kinda famous in her heyday. Fanboys were a thing.

So, not introductions? She could do that. In fact, that might be best until she was certain if he knew 'of' her, or vice versa. But... she saw no harm in showing of a little. When he asked, she brought her free hand up and clenched her fingers. There was a glimmer over her skin that flowed over the umbrella, a shimmer and it was gone. The unmistakeable look of aura being brought into play. Her fingers opened... and what looked like pink glass, or maybe petals started to work their way over her body. When it was done, there was the native girl from before. Plain as day.

With a crack and a crash, the illusion disintegrated, the 'glass' gone seconds later, a trick of the light. She winked at him again, pleased with herself.]

[bolstafir]

[Seeing her transform into that unassuming local woman in front of him is a hell of a trip, even for actual lifelong spy Qrow, and the surprise is clear on his face. That kind of ability is both extremely useful and extremely dangerous, and he finds himself making a mental note of it, a lifetime of cataloguing potential threats telling him to be wary, and that it may be best not to run afoul of this woman, if possible. He comments no further on the display, letting his expression smooth back out into something casual.]

Not much for talking, huh.

[Or maybe she can't. Well, there's one way to find out--]

Any chance I can get a name?

[threelayers]

[Now, there was a debate. He acted like he 'got it' which increased the odds he was from Remnant. So, there was at least a possibility he knew who she was by name alone. Not likely, but posssible. Telling him was a risk but she could be prepared or it a little.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled a piece of candy out of her pocket and flicked it over towards him. On it her name was certainly easy enough to see. While she gave a little gesture, pointing at him and raising an eyebrow in turn, waiting for his name as well, she concentrated. The image standing in front of him was just that. An image. She concealed herself a little ways away, just in case that scythe suddenly got pulled on her.

Never hurt to be careful, and she'd done this trick a few times in her life.]

[bolstafir]

[He wouldn't have known her by name if they were to have met in Remnant for the first time, or if he hadn't run into Ruby soon after arriving. But he remembers the name "Neopolitan", and that she was apparently one of Roman Torchwick's followers. (She had, conveniently, left out the murder attempts, or there really would be a scythe in Neo's face right now)

Qrow has his own moment of internal debate, then. Torchwick had worked with Salem in orchestrating the Fall of Beacon. Salem's inner circle were aware of him, but he's not sure how much this woman was aware of the broad details of Salem's operations as opposed to being a mere cog in her machine.]

...I'm Tai.

[Sorry Tai. He'd rather not announce himself as an enemy right off the bat, especially with his Aura broken as it is.]

[threelayers]

[Oh the stories they could share one day, perhaps, over a drink. Oh, but she was still trying to kill his neice until she stopped coming back to life. That would probably be very awkward if she ever found out who he realy was. Right now?

He wasn't trying to pull the scythe on her. And that was mildly important. However... she had questions, and "Tai" was going to hopefully answer at least one of them. She focused and her other self reached into her pocket, pulling out a little notepad so he didn't have to touch her fluid and wouldn't easily tell it was an illusion. Flipping it open, little petals formed, and with their passing, writing.]

You're from Remnant, right?
Don't deny it.
Only we'd combine a segmented chain scythe with a gun.

[bolstafir]

[A shame Qrow has given up the bottle, then--though the news that she's still currently attempting to kill Ruby might lead him to question that resolve. The writing on the notepad confirms what he'd already assumed; she can't talk, or at least is firmly committed to not doing so. It's a little odd to respond to her verbally, honestly? But he doesn't have anything to write back with, and typing on his Fluid seems even stranger when he's standing right in front of her.]

That so. Guess other planets are boring, then.

[why WOULDN'T you combine a segmented chain scythe with a gun, quoth the qrow.]

[threelayers]

[She was either really dedicated to the schtick, or absolutely incapable of it. She had, however, figured out several ways to communicate over the years when she absolutely had to do it. And right now, it was useful to have at her beck and call. A silent laugh at his comment and she gave him a little tipped hat salute before asking the next question.]

Huntsman, or on your own?
Don't care either way.
No academies here.

[The latter part was included more as a 'just in case.' And really, outside of the fact that huntsmen were usually significantly bigger threats in a fight than average soldiers or even solid Atlas tech? They weren't necessarily a problem, as long as they weren't out to get/stop her.]

[bolstafir]

[He raises his eyebrow at her assertion that she doesn't care either way. Interesting. Does this mean she no longer considers herself allied with Salem? Hm. Best not to show his hand quite so soon, though. Instead, he offers up an actual piece of information this time, to see how she reacts.]

Huntsman, yeah. Proud Beacon alum. How about you?

[threelayers]

[Flip went the page of the little notepad, the words on the next page speaking her thoughts. A clever little bit of illusion. She couldn't exact the range and power with it that she could, but little tricks like this she could do.

Lie? No, she was a liar when she wanted, but not here, not in this situation.]

Oh, probably qualify as criminal scum.
But that's neither here nor there.
Long way away from home, after all.

[But if you got right down to it, no. She wouldn't have ever called herself part of Salem's faction. Her work with Cinder was mere convenience, and she'd only ever been loyal to one man, who was dead now. His loyalties to Salem were always somewhere akin to Lionheart's, when it came down to it.

Survival.]

[bolstafir]

["Probably criminal scum". If only she knew about his history, huh. But this is still useful to know; it's subtle, but there is a slight loosening of tension in his shoulders, like someone who's relatively confident he won't in fact need to defend himself over the course of this interaction after all. If she's not interested in making trouble in the absence of Salem, he can certainly respect that. Saves him some trouble, honestly.]

Fair enough. Let sleeping dogs lie, and all that.

[threelayers]

[No, he wouldn't be getting that promise, though she nodded her illusion's head. She had a grudge to settle, after all, and even if she didn't know this man one way or another, she'd still not tell some random person from Remnant she was out to kill Ruby Rose. That was asking for trouble.

With Jaune she just assumed he knew.

She relaxed a little and then crooked her finger, starting to walk down the street. No sign this time. She made a motion of tipping back a drink and raised an eyebrow. What? She was ok breaking bread with the enemy.]

[bolstafir]

[It's for the best, really. Someday they're gonna have a real awkward conversation to add on the pile of relationships that went to shit for Qrow, but at least for now it seems like she's willing to be civil here, which is apparently more than he can expect from his own sister.

He raises an eyebrow when she beckons him and gestures for having a drink. Too bad he's sworn off alcohol; intoxication was a great way to loosen people's tongues.]

...Why not. How's coffee?

[threelayers]

[She prided herself on a weird sort of civility towards others. It was part of how she liked to feel superior to them in her own odd little way. Pretending at manners while pulling a sword out was sort of fun, in its own fashion.

The offer of coffee got a quick nod and she changed directions towards the cafe. That was better. No need to dull the mind around a potential threat. Coffee it was!]

(OOC: I'm good with continuing the awkward conversation or handwaving here. It's sort of a good break point either way. Up to you!)