SEPTEMBER 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

[sodder]

SEPTEMBER 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to September's Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: CHILDREN/YOUNG ADULT 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: Evil dollhouses, potential body horror (turning into a doll), heights, pranks with the potential to cause harm, some stalking vibes
Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

THE EVIL DOLLHOUSE

When you wake up, you find you're not in your own bed, your own room, or even your own house. The room is well decorated, almost Victorian in fashion. The bed is pretty uncomfortable and you're not even sure the mattress is a real mattress. The chairs look like they might be made of plastic and the doors are flimsy. But it might not be what catches your eye, especially if you look out the window.

Through the clear panes (which also seem to be plastic), you will notice you do not see the town of Deerington, or even the outdoors at all. You see a living room that feels larger than life. There aren't any people in it, but as you look around at the fake looking furnishings and the strange view, you might be hit with a realization: you're inside a dollhouse.

The dollhouse has three floors for those who explore; the second floor you woke up on has two bedrooms and a fake little bathroom, all decorated in the same Victorian dollhouse style as the room you originally found yourself in. The bottom floor has a cute little kitchen with small porcelain dolls sitting around the table, a living room with all the basic furniture one would expect to find (in fact, it looks a great deal like the living room outside the windows), and an office filled with books that can't actually be pulled out of the shelves. On the very top floor is an attic. It's dusty and filled with broken toy beds and chairs, a few shattered doll pieces, and on the far wall you'll see another bookshelf. All seems... fairly standard, really, if you're used to seeing dollhouses.

But what there doesn't appear to be is an exit.

While searching, you may run into another Sleeper. A friend or a stranger, it's clear you're both stuck here together. And the longer the time ticks by, the more concerning things get. You might not notice at first, but anyone inside the dollhouse starts slowly... changing. It seems to go at a different pace for everyone, but the results are always the same. Your skin will start to become porcelain, your cheeks more rosy, your clothes made of cheaper cloth material, your joints become stiffer, and your eyes will start to become more and more glass like. If you don't get out of the dollhouse soon, it's clear that you may become the next doll at the kitchen table.

Searching the house again may feel fruitless, but keen observers may find light scratches on the floor in front of the bookshelf in the attic. Maybe they were like that because of someone moving things around or maybe there's a reason. If you decide to eventually pull the bookshelf aside, there will be a large door in the wall. It may seem strange, given that the wall only leads to the outside, but it's the only door to the outside that actually opens. You expect it to open up into the living room, but instead you'll see the grass of the park below. Far below. It's likely you could get hurt jumping, especially if you've started to turn to porcelain, but what other choice do you have?

Once characters take the plunge, they will find that they land rather softly in the grass, despite how high the jump may have seemed. As soon as you are out of the dollhouse, your body will have returned to complete normal.

And the house with the dollhouse in the living room will be nowhere in sight.

THOSE PESKY KIDS

You start off thinking maybe you're just forgetful and moved minor pieces around in your house without paying attention. You might think you're just seeing strange things out of the corner of your eye, because why wouldn't you? It's Deerington. Things are always strange. But each day, there's something weirder going on. Small objects might turn into entire rooms being rearranged, strange sightings out of the corner of your eye might turn into you swearing you saw a lake monster running through the street, and you swear you can hear the rattling of chains or the sounds of someone telling you to leave echoing in your house at night or following you down the street.

A haunting seems plausible. It wouldn't be the first time in Deerington. But no amount of herbs burned, or exorcisms performed, or chants and spell cast will make these things go away. In fact, they seem to just becoming more and more frequent, and more and more intense. Eventually, the strange creatures you see running around may start to try and attack you. They may start to try and kill you. But they always run off before you can attack back or show yourself to be stronger than them. It's probably the first time the monsters have ever been so easily scared.

Anyone who looks into it further may start to find weird clues lying around after a monster has been chased off. Footprints that don't look quite monster-like, tapes or records that when played will make strange rattling sounds like the chains you've been hearing, a piece of rubber that looks a lot like the monsters skin... Huh. The more you follow the clues, the more they'll lead you towards the answer to your dilemmas; these aren't hauntings.

They're pranks.

People can work together to catch a monster or ghost (or killing it, if you decide to); catching them will lead to them getting quite flustered and angry, struggling to get away. Pull off the mask or the sheet and underneath you'll find... a very disgruntled townsperson. Maybe your business was taking too much money away from theirs and they were hoping you'd close down with enough scares, maybe you talked back to them one time and they were looking for revenge, maybe you ruined their house or garden when you were fighting the things in Deerington that actually try to kill you, or maybe they were just having some "harmless" fun; they all have a different excuse, but they're clearly angry about getting caught.

They woulda gotten away with it if it weren't for you pesky Sleepers, after all.

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

[bluesteal]

"A detective, huh? Interesting." Neal suspects he doesn't necessarily mean criminal detective based on the wording — perhaps they're both suspicious bastards like that — but it does leave him curious for more information. There are some other things that interest him, too, including some features that seem different at closer observation. Was there scarring on Jean-Paul's ears? He's too polite to ask now but he keeps it in mind for later.

"What do you teach? Are you over at the college or the high school?" he asks. Honestly, if Jean-Paul allows it, Neal will talk like this all day, mingling in the alcohol aisle like this is his business. He's personable like that, not to mention fascinated more and more as he continues to observe this very direct copy of himself.

[speed_of_snark]

"It's been a very strange few years," Jean-Paul admits. "I'm not generally pro-cop, for the record." Because he really does feel the need to stress that.

He allows himself an ironic little smile. "LGBTQ-plus studies at college, sex ed at the high school. In a town that appears to be 90% bisexual, so that works out."

He lifts an eyebrow at Neal. "You are definitely younger than me," he says. "That's super annoying. Hn. Are you human?"

[bluesteal]

Well, well, well. More things they have in common. Although Neal has to admit he has a soft spot for at least one or two law-type individuals. He doesn't say as much though — why offer such things if he doesn't have to?

"Yeah, I'm human. And I wasn't going to mention the age thing because I'm not a monster," Neal says, grinning. Of course he noticed. "If it helps, I'm pleased for myself if you're my future. You can't be much older."

[speed_of_snark]

Human. Jean-Paul is clearly pleased by this answer. "I'm... hn. Early forties. I'm not sure how to calculate the actual age all things considered." Such is the nature of living in different timelines.

"You must work out, non?" As he looks Neal over critically.

[bluesteal]

"I do," Neal preens, secretly pleased that someone notices. "I do a lot of swimming and calisthenics." He reaches out down touch his core, patting it gently. He hasn't had good access to a pool in about nine months, but being that he also hadn't had a proper job in that time, he had been able to keep up on that.

"We're not so far off, though. I'll be forty soon," he points out, hoping to soften the blow a bit.

[speed_of_snark]

It's odd to see someone with your face look so goddamn pleased with himself... but not unpleasant, at least not for Jean-Paul. Really it only serves to stroke his ego because he takes it as proof that yes, his arrogance is charming.

"Okay, so I could kick your ass easily. That does make me feel a little better," he says with an absolute lack of malice - he's just stating what he sees to be facts.

[bluesteal]

Neal actually laughs at that, probably the first time he's been inspired to such lengths since coming to this town, in fact. He crosses his arms, but there's an ease to the motion, nothing defensive to be seen.

"Oh, absolutely," he agrees, far more amused than a person admitting as much should be. He's pretty good in the boxing ring, he's excellent at fencing, he's even a crack shot with a gun, but at the end of the day, Neal Caffrey is much more a lover than a fighter. "You'll catch me running and hiding before spoiling for any kind of fight. I do employ a little muscle, though," he points out mysteriously. "Just in case." Of course, employ is not the right word here, but that's really not the point.

[speed_of_snark]

Jean-Paul's eyebrow arches way up again. "You're going to have to explain that," he says. "Because it sounds like either you have bodyguards or you have some sort of lame alter ego."

Tact: he has none.

[bluesteal]

"Bodyguard, singular," Neal says, not feeling at all bad about admitting that. Cable has provided a level of protection that's been somewhat unparalleled in Neal's life and he has absolutely no question as to whether that will continue. Their particular arrangement works.

"My alter egos are never lame," Neal boasts without further explanation offered. That much he can be certain about: From Nicholas Holden to Steve Tabernacle, they've all been particularly exceptional personas, each perfectly tailored to his needs at the time.

"Did you—? You didn't think I meant I was Superman or something, did you?" Although he could fit the part...

[speed_of_snark]

"So how many alter egos do you have, hn?" Jean-Paul pounces on that at once. After all, it isn't often you find someone who admits to having more than one.

Jean-Paul laughs. "Non. You're human, you even said so. I mean, there's a few nuts who do the whole superhero thing anyway, but that's pretty few and far between unless you're some sort of tech genius or whatever. You don't have the vibe." He smooths his crappy t-shirt over his chest. "But trust me, we look good in the spandex."

[bluesteal]

Pardon Neal while he tries to imagine himself in Spandex without cringing. Despite being incredibly good-looking and well taken care of, he is surprisingly sexually reserved. He's flirtatious and even occasionally coquettish, knows how good he looks, but when push comes to shove, there's a personal shyness that takes a while to bypass. It's exactly why he feels so comfortable when he's pretending to be someone else.

"A few more than two alter egos, actually," Neal admits. He hasn't lost count — the number is high — but there's a certain security to keeping that information close to the chest. "Why? How many do you have?" He's assuming. He's fairly certain the number is more than none.

[speed_of_snark]

The look Jean-Paul gives Neal is easy to read - don't bullshit me, it says. But he shrugs.

"None. When I was in my twenties my identity was more of less secret for the sake of my career - I was an Olympian - but it all came out eventually. It's much easier to live as a public figure in most ways."

[bluesteal]

Neal raises an eyebrow at that — an Olympian, eh? It almost makes him wonder what could have been. But in a truly pedantic move, he scrubs at his chin and goes in for the correction instead of wondering further.

"An alter ego isn't necessarily a secret identity — at least it wasn't used in that way until the modern scene. In fact, its origins relate to 'another self', psychologically speaking. Alter ego — 'other I' in the original Latin form — was referencing the part of a person they was generally separate from a waking, 'knowable' state. 'Capable, but unaware' is a good distillation of the idea behind it."

But he digresses.

"Mine weren't secret, but they were distinctive."

[speed_of_snark]

Jean-Paul looks at Neal sharply, then stares at him intently, as if searching for something. "Do you have D.I.D?" he asks.

[bluesteal]

The question takes Neal by surprise, but filtering back through his little impromptu lesson, he can see why Jean-Paul may have come to that conclusion. He almost wants to laugh, but something about that sharp gaze keeps him from doing so, ever present as he is about observation and reading the room.

"No, no," he says quietly, shaking his head. "I didn't meant to give that impression. They were aliases."

[speed_of_snark]

"Hn." Nasal and curt, it seems to be all the response he intends to give. Instead Jean-Paul studies the wine bottle again.

"Well. Thank you for the wine selection. I intend to drink it all tonight, so the next time I see you I will let you know how it was."

[bluesteal]

Suddenly there's a worry that maybe he's overstepped and that's really the last thing Neal wants. Being liked is so incredibly important to him — more than one might expect from someone so confident — and while he's sure he'll be able to make things right if that's truly the case, he gets the sense that now is not the time to make any serious amends. Not with a comment like the one Jean-Paul just made.

Nodding, he offers out his hand a second time, smiling as he does. "In that case, I hope it was a good recommendation. I'll look forward to hearing your thoughts on it," Neal says. "It was nice to make your acquaintance, Jean-Paul. Until we meet again."