soddersays | SEPTEMBER 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sometimes, yeah."

Oscar hung his head, thinking over the debacle with Neo and Ruby that had happened earlier that summer.

"They can even influence our actions and how we think. Friends can turn on each other... and I haven't even been long enough to see the worst of it."

How we think. He goes deeply silent for a brief moment, at that. He puts voice to none of it, but the bolt of unease goes sharp and deep: Oz makes for a very dangerous weapon, and knows it. The thought of being set against others, here, against innocents...

It's disquieting. There is nothing he can do about it now. He won't dwell.

"And how long have you been here?"

"Since the spring time," He answered easily, brows lifting at the deep silence that had fallen over the Professor at his explanation. There... was no way to easily answer anything.

"I stole a couple of trucks and got a horse during that first month," he added, with a small chuckle. "Or, I guess Shortcake picked me."

Spring. It's plainly entering autumn, now, by the leaves that crunch underfoot. That's... interesting, and concerning, and a great deal to think about. He has been informed that this place is a dream, and that individuals can be trapped here for years at a time while their world carries on as usual. But it is impossibly disconcerting to find such a thing actually happening to him.

His eyebrows raise, and he looks to Oscar, surprised and nearly amused.

"I do hope there was a good reason behind stealing 'a couple of trucks.'" He can't claim to disapprove too strongly; he'd been distantly aware of the Atlas airship plan up until the spiking adrenaline and impending death made him acutely aware. He's done worse in a hundred lifetimes. Still, it's not ideal.

But they've arrived at a little cafe, warm and cozy in the darkening twilight. He can only imagine this is their cocoa spot, and stops to take in the sight while Oscar deals with his bicycle, standing with his hands folded over the top of his cane.

"I imagine our friends will be waiting outside?" He turns to look at the small army of jackalopes, which only stare back at him.

"There were hordes of monsters coming into town? Not Grimm-- and I needed a quick get away. Ruby's... chickens were scared."

That's right, Oz. He stole a truck to rescue a couple of chickens.

Under the glowing lights of the little cafe, Oscar dug out his bike lock and secured his ride to the nearby fence. The chain was sad enough that a pair of bolt cutters would rend them in no time, but bike thieves were in short supply in Deerington.

Mostly, there was no reason to bother.

Nodding, Oscar took out the remaining muffins he had made for the jackalopes from his backpack and set them on the ground not far from his bike. Noses twitching at the scent of the confections, the jackalopes stood silently and watched in wait.

"That's right," he replied. "They're a little unsettling to a lot of people. I don't think they're any scarier than the deer though, they seem to want to help."

Oscar, that is adorable. But fleeing hordes of monsters seems as good a reason as any, so Oz inclines his head in a nod while Oscar goes to get the bike sorted. He watches the boy set out a snack for the antlered deer.

"They seem polite enough." In that they haven't tried to kill him yet, unlike some creatures he's already encountered in town. Better than he might have expected based on what he's been told of this place. "I imagine we need what help we can get, from the sound of things."

With that, he leads them inside. It only takes a moment to order, and then they are settling into a quiet corner, Oz settling The Long Memory to lean up on the table beside them.

"Well. Thank you for bringing me here, and for the cocoa. It is... good to have an opportunity to talk."

They'd been a bit preoccupied, back home, with her on the horizon.

The money was easy. Thanks to the societal structure, students were guaranteed a reasonable stipend to live on and most food items and necessities were free. Oscar's part time job at the library covered for the rest of his meager needs. It was how he had managed to purchase his second hand bike so quickly, and how he managed to execute so many projects in a short span of time.

The talking, however, was harder.

Sipping at the cocoa, Oscar felt the familiar unease whenever the subject of anything regarding Ozpin came up.

"You're right, we do need to talk... I just don't know where to begin."

Nor does Ozpin, in all honesty. But he has a great deal more experience with this sort of conversation, this particular variety of tense silence. He cannot usually sit across a table from someone to have it, and he tries to bear that blessing in mind, not the weight of expectation in the air.

"Let us begin where we did not have a chance to linger, now that things are... substantially calmer than we left them."

He sighs, and leans in over the table, fingers laced together in thought. He casts his eyes down.

"Oscar, I am sorry to have left as I did. To be confronted with my past in such a fashion... it evoked a fear in me that I did not respond to well. In that moment, it seemed best that I step away as fully as I was able."

That hangs a moment, as steam rises from their mugs of cocoa. He does not say the full truth of it: that he'd felt again that existential despair, too vast to grasp. With Jinn's answer, he'd found himself pinned before the yawning expanse of eternity, knowing there was no escape but his inexorable failure. He had understood for the first time that he was trapped in a losing game. That all was fundamentally broken, and he had no solution.

All those centuries ago, he had retreated from it. He had shut himself away within the little walls of his home and his mind, as faraway as he could make himself. It was the closest he could get to escape. It had taken four remarkable young women to draw him out of it, the first time. It had taken centuries.

It is cowardice. He's aware. He has seen the bravery of the little group, filtering through to him as though across a great distance. He knows that he owes them better. The person he becomes in fear is not one worthy of his task, even if his task is always, and shall always be, one of holding the line. Protection is still a noble cause, even if salvation seems out of reach.

He is just so tired, sometimes. Still.

"I realize now that leaving you to bear our burdens alone was not a kindness."

Ah, this.

Even before Ozpin started speaking, Oscar found himself Aware of the general contents of what he was going to say. Weeks with the man dwelling in his conscious and unconscious mind had taught him much about how the man functioned, long before that protective barrier had fractured like a person's Aura reaching it's limit. Dropping his gaze down to the cocoa and the marshmallows foaming and swirling on the surface, Oscar opted to Listen.

Just like during that incident with Jinn, he was privy to notions and concepts that no one else knew.

"I know," he said quietly, taking a long spoon and stirring his drink to jostle the marshmallows deeper into the warm liquid.

"And people do things they regret when they're afraid. But, you know that better than anyone else."

A sigh. Once more, he was placed in the odd position of needing to Comfort and Advise an Adult.

It made him wonder if growing up was even worth it, if the Adults in their world couldn't be trusted to take care of their world.

"We can't change what happened, but I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. I can take punches, but Qrow...

"He took this hard"

I know. Yes, he supposes Oscar would. They've not had long together, but the process doesn't take long, all considered. It hadn't taken long for Ozpin. He hadn't been much older than this, when it began.

Qrow. At this, he rests his folded hands on the table, regarding them quietly.

"I have already spoken with Qrow." It had not gone well. Qrow hadn't hit him again, but he had plainly been considering it. "He and I have a long history together, and he is... understandably upset."

I might as well have been one of Jimmy's robots to you. Yes, that had hurt precisely as much as he feared a confrontation might. The punch would have been more welcome.

Somehow, Oscar found himself hardly surprised that the two had already encountered each other... and that conversation had gone 'wonderfully', if Qrow deciding not to deck Ozpin was a significant factor in matters going well.

"I know. I've seen it."

He said quietly, recalling that desperate stay in the farmhouse that had gone so horrifically wrong. Qrow had coped by the grace of drink for much, much longer than Oscar had known him, but the rapid deterioration in condition Qrow had displayed in the days and weeks after Oz had sealed himself away was...

"It's probably worse than you imagine. He's come a long way, but this town with it's craziness can't be any help to him."

He knows it. The situation had filtered through. Shutting himself away did not make him blind to the world, much as he'd often wished it might; it just let him recede far enough from the front of their shared consciousness that all input took on a distant, third-person quality, as though looking through a fogged pane of very dense glass. He'd hidden behind it, but he could not claim blindness to everything that passed without him. Just... distance.

Oz draws tighter, quieter, and breathes a tiny sigh.

"No, I imagine not. And I'm sure my similarly abrupt arrival cannot be easy for him." Nor for you, he does not say, but perhaps it's clear enough from the way his gaze rises to regard Oscar again. "Whatever you may think of me, please know that I greatly value trust, Oscar. I do not make light of the faith placed in me by those like Qrow, who have stood at my side all these years. The secrets I have kept were not kept out of malice."

And there it was; admission of the root of the problem. Oscar stared at the steam swirling upward from his cup rather than look at the rakish man, already trying to imagine the how and why of everything.

"That fact doesn't make it easier, though. People are still hurt."

He let that settle in for a beat before finally lifting his gaze.

"Whatever's between us will end up fine. It's got to. If anything, you should know that I still believe in you."

It was a careful choice of words, especially given their shared habit of acting without disclosing their thoughts to others.

"It's the others who might give you more problem."

He inclines his head in acknowledgement. It is true. He does not expect his secrets to be forgiven, really. Only understood. Accepted, perhaps, at best.

"They are within their rights to be angry. Though I have the growing impression we will need to look after each other, here."

I still believe in you. It has never been like this before, and Oz finds himself oddly out of his depth; his hosts have never been given the option of turning away from him. There have been those who resisted, yes, but they were always overridden in the end— whether he willed it or not. Overridden is perhaps too strong a term. It's more that their dissent mingled with his tired acceptance until only a shared resignation was left. They lost the degree of division necessary for dissent to exist. It all blurred away.

Oscar is the first who does not have to believe in him, for however long they are this way. Oscar has the option of being only himself, for a time. Separate.

Yet here he is, choosing to take Ozpin out for warm drinks and conversation. Choosing acceptance. It is very brave.

"I appreciate that." It comes soft. It is perhaps among the most honest things he has ever said to Oscar, and it has the weight of an I'm sorry. "I would like to help them, if they will have me. And to help you, however I'm able."

Bravery was not by any means easy, particularly for one as inexperienced as Oscar was. The reality of the fact that he would not have had any of his recent experiences if not for Oz's affect on his life was not lost on him-- but, where would he be otherwise? It was harvest season-- he would be in the fields tending to the grains, doing emergency repairs to the machinery that he could fix, and helping his Aunt with the canning they did annually.

Nothing in his life would have been an adventure that had been swept from the pages of a fairy tale. He didn't regret his decision to follow the instructions of that foreign voice in his head to learn the answers he never would have found otherwise.

"I think we can all help each other here," Oscar replied, nodding quietly with his words. The unspoken apology was not lost on him. "The locals won't; we're all we've got. But... the others have complicated feelings about all of this, and it's not going to be easy for you or anyone..."

"Important things rarely are easy, and I do believe that working together will be important for all of us. It is a complicated situation. I am aware that my... disappearance did not make matters easier."

He raises his cocoa to sip, and the silence hangs heavy for a moment.

"Still, it's as you say: all we have is each other."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

SEPTEMBER 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

SEPTEMBER 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

THE EVIL DOLLHOUSE

THOSE PESKY KIDS

Character Arrival

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