July 2018 Test Drive Meme

[sodder]

JULY 2018 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to July's Test Drive Meme! This is our first Test Drive ever so let's make it a good one. This month's Test Drive's theme is: JAPANESE BASED 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: Psychological horror, supernatural horror, body horror with stitches, potential gore, potential burning.

Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Prompt Three
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

THE SISTERS OF KOJI POND

The streets of Deerington are hazy this fine summer evening in July. Buzzing drunkenly through the tall wild grass on the sides of streets are the speckled dots of fireflies as they fly about. It's a bit muggy, the kind that makes your clothes hang from your body and cling against the slopes of your shoulders and arms. It's easy to feel lost in the tranquility of that perfect summer night. The stars are bright overhead, and there's a full moon in the sky that looks as big as a quarter from where you're standing. Distantly, it smells like somewhere someone is having a late night bonfire. If you listen hard enough, you could almost hear the crackling of the wood as it splinters and burns.

That's when you can hear the soft laughter of a woman. It's the appealing kind of laughter that maybe reminds you of a distant lover, a sister, a friend, or maybe even your own mother. Turning towards the laughter, you might see the shining glow of the moon tucking itself behind a nearby building. But no, the moon was still up in the sky where it belonged. Wasn't it? The moon has halved itself. That's all right. That's how it had been when you last looked. Wasn't it?

The laughter distracts you from the halved moon, sounding closer now. The exhale of a sigh and you feel that prickling sensation that you are not alone. That's when you see a white cat. The creature is sitting neatly in front of a street lamp, and it's positively otherworldly with its luminescent glow. So that's where the moon had gone. The cat appears perfectly normal except it has twin tails winding slowly back and forth behind it.

When the cat finally looks your way, it opens its mouth and a woman's laugh comes out of it, bright and cheerful.

The cat stands up and pads down the sidewalk, its tails twirling about in an almost mesmerizing motion. Behind you, the moon has gone from a half down to a thin crescent, the stars blacking out one after the other.

If you follow the cat, it takes you down winding streets. The cat takes you to Koji Pond. Above the sky has gone completely black, and there are no fireflies to see. The street lamps have gone completely out. It's just you and the woman-.

The woman? What had happened to the cat? No, it had always been a woman you were following, right? You can't mistaken a cat for a woman.

But there's not just one woman. There's two, you realize. Two at opposite ends of the pond. Each are wearing an identical moon-white kimono. One is laughing softly, but the other is staring blankly across the water. The grave woman wears her long black hair up in a tight bun, whereas the laughing woman's hair is flowing free and filled with soft flowers. The grim woman turns her flat, black eyes and gestures to you.

"Come here. Now."

The laughing woman tucks some hair behind her ear, looking your way. She radiates warmth and that summer sweetness you remembered feeling before the world went dark. "My sister is so cruel. Ignore her. Sit beside me."

Which woman will you go to? Neither of the women will pressure you, but you'll find that if you try to leave, your sight will grow darker and darker, though you won't be blind exactly. It's more like the light from all the worlds in existence have been stolen away and put into these two women. Everything beyond them is cast in darkness.

If you go to the stern woman, her tight expression will smooth out and she will bow her head, cupping her hands against her chest. From her sleeves, she will remove a silk bag of roasted soybeans. She hands them to you, not smiling, but not looking quite as severe as she had moments ago. "Scatter them."

Once you do, you'll notice the more you scatter, the more stars you bring back into the night sky. By the time you're done with the bag, the women will have both disappeared, and the white cat from before will be sitting where the stern woman once sat. Only this time, the cat has one tail.

However, if you decide to go to the laughing woman....

As you come closer, you'll notice that her hair is parted to hang evenly over her shoulders, and at the back of her neck is ...a mouth. A snarling mouth with sharp teeth. The closer you walk to her, the hotter and more stifling the air around you becomes. All you can hear is the woman laughing. Her face is reflected a million times in the water's surface in Koji Pond, all laughing, an entire auditorium's worth of laughter hurled at you.

You must overcome the laughter. The woman's hair will grow, wrapping itself around you wherever it can to drag you towards her. The moment you assault the woman, her laughter will turn to screams and the world all around you will feel as if you've been placed into an oven. Small fires will spark live in nearby bushes and across the grass.

It doesn't seem like regular objects can truly kill her though.

The other sister can't reach you, but she is throwing raw soybeans to you. They scatter all over the place. If you're quick on your feet, you'd think to pick them up. If you're even quicker, you'd think to throw the soybeans into the nearby fires to roast them. This seems to be the only way to really hurt the woman- and the only way to eventually banish her. But it'll take some time.

The worst part? The longer you stay near the woman, the sicker you'll feel. Maybe you'll come down with the cold, or maybe you'll grow blisters on your tongue. It doesn't matter: you'll grow terribly sick with some illness in the world and nothing will cure it until the woman has been abolished. And when she finally is? You will be left terribly weakened, but the stars will slowly come back as will the full moon.

I LOVE YOU: PLEASE LOVE ME BACK

It begins as a regular day in Deerington. The only problem is that there's really no such thing as a regular day in Deerington. When you come to, you'll find yourself feeling particularly emotional. Whether that's overly sad or happy, it doesn't seem to matter, because you're feeling everything so intensely. Maybe you just didn't sleep right, or maybe it's this weird dream you're having. Hopefully if you ignore it, it'll go away.

Except it doesn't go away. It's beginning to feel isolating being alone with your thoughts, even if they're happy, because it feels like you're near bursting to express yourself to someone.

When you finally cave, it's to the nearest person. The urge grows even louder inside of you until finally you're exclaiming loudly to the other person how you're feeling. Then you think to ask something that seems perfectly natural to you: you ask for a hug. Or maybe you ask for a handshake. Any contact.

Maybe the other person is sympathetic, or maybe they're feeling this emotional onslaught as much as you are. Either way, the moment your skin makes contact with another person's body, you'll feel a sudden swoop of sensation slide through your skin. It doesn't hurt, necessarily, but you've never felt anything quite like it before. And you don't want to stop touching this person wherever you may be touching them. As a matter of fact, you want to get closer. This urge does not need to be felt on both ends.

But the closer you get, the more yourself you begin to feel. Until at last you decide to look to where you have touched the other person.

Securing the two of you together are thick, coarse black stitches. Try and tug yourself away will result in atrocious pain on both ends. Anywhere your skin has touched the other person's will have been stitched to it. Careful getting hysterical though- the more emotional you become, the more likely you'll be to crowd closer to the person you're sewn into, and the more you'll fuse together. Better try and calm each other down first.

The solution is simple: you need to cut your way out of the bond. The tricky part is finding something to cut it with...and, well, the fact that the moment someone tries to cut the stitches, you'll both feel a hysterical urge to stay together forever.

It's possible to overcome that urge- but boy, do you need to have an iron will. Cutting the stitches is a miserable ordeal that hurts every snip of the way- but each time you cut a stitching, it fades away entirely as if it had never been there to begin with.

There is another option, of course. You could always jump into some water and get the stitches wet. Once you do, they'll melt right off you, not even leaving holes or dots behind. Surely you hadn't just imagined that, right?

THIS IS MY HOLE, IT WAS MADE FOR ME!

It is certainly a nice day for a refreshing hike into the woods! Or perhaps you have decided that a little exploration is in order for this new, strange town you have woken up to. At some point along the way, perhaps you find someone else on the trails of the National Park. No such thing as bad company, right? As you traverse towards Mount Rheum, the wind begins to pick up and you hear a low moaning. You could swear that you recognize that voice. Before you can place any names, the moaning stops and it's easy to think that maybe it was just the wind. Winds pulling through the trees always did make the strangest noises.

Except when the wind picks back up, you're more certain that you know this voice. Maybe it's the voice of your companion, or a loved one, a hated one from back home...Maybe it's even your own voice that you recognize. Each time the wind blows, the voice seems to change. It can't be the wind? It all seems to be coming from one direction: Mount Rheum.

You never quite reach the base of the mountain.

Even if you head straight on towards the mountain, when you pass through the line of trees that should technically open up to the base, you'll find no such thing. Instead, you'll find an enormous looming wall of gray slate. You can't even see the mountain behind it, it's so immense. How did you not see that from the forest? The wall seems to be tipped towards the mountain, and you think, just maybe, you could climb it. It crosses your mind for just a second before you notice something odd about the wall. From far away, it looks like a bunch of black smudges. But as you grow closer, you realize they aren't smudges at all. They are holes.

Holes the shape of human beings. And every single hole looks completely different from the next. There's hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, and they climb all the way up the slate wall. And there is one hole made specifically for you.

You may even find the hole that belongs to someone you know, or your companion, and every time the wind blows, you can hear the groaning voice of that person coming from within their hole.

It is impossible to get over the wall of gray slate. No matter how hard you may try. But it seems possible to find your own hole. You'd swear that the holes are moving. Examine the inside, and they seem to go on indefinitely. Put your hand inside any of them, and they will feel oddly warm. As warm as a human body. If you put your hand into the hole that belongs to the person you're with, they will feel a terrible coldness overcome them. Keep your hand in long enough, and you'll begin to see them die right in front of you. Better keep your hands to yourself....Or that'd be easier said than done if you didn't feel yourself grow in power, in intelligence just from stealing their life force.

Climbing into your own hole? You'll feel exhilarated! Alive! Like you have truly found the proof of your own soul. You don't want to leave your hole. It was made for you!

It is almost impossible to get out of your own hole. Chances are good you'll be slowly pulled into it, your body steadily crushed and stretched out, but you'll be conscious the entire time, and at some point you'll begin to moan horribly from the pain of it all.

Of course, you can always be saved. If someone climbs into your hole after you, it'll break apart the rock structure clenching down around you and they might be able to pull you out in time. You'll be left terribly weak, pale, and incapable of proper speech for a couple of hours...But at least you're not dead.

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

[nakedsingularity]

_{[Is that even a word? The bewilderment in her expression begs to differ.]}

Capul-- what? _{[... No, she's not going to try and repeat him, she'll just look like a tongue-tied asshole if she tries.]} A what?

_{[A water horse? That eats... meat... Her imagination tries to expand to provide a visual and can't.]}

... Like a seahorse?

_{[It's no wonder she's having trouble picturing it, girl doesn't know her kelpies from her sea monkeys.]}

[nojockey]

Capall uisce. [ 'copple ooshka.' it's hard to pronounce for americans, he knows. ] It's Manx.

[ the follow up question makes him draw up short, looking at her—and then he laughs, although he isn't a person who laughs easily. it's just that the question is so silly he can't help it. ]

Not a seahorse. [ well, literally a sea horse, but not a seahorse. somehow sean feels like saying this might just confuse her more. ] Capaill uisce look more or less like land horses, only larger and with sharper teeth.

[nakedsingularity]

Yeah, that.

<sub>[She takes the laughter on the chin with good grace, knowing she probably deserves it for showing her ass--ignorant lily white girl ass that it is. For that reason, she opts to avoid commenting on the origin of the term. The most she knows about the Manx is the breed of Manx cat with the stubby tails.

Townes, on the other hand, would probably get a kick out of all of this. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was always more his thing.]</sub>

Well, that sounds fucking terrifying.

_{[For her part, Henry can only lift her eyebrows and declare the obvious.]}

[nojockey]

[ little does she know, the meaning is the same! manx, the language of the isle of man; manx cats, originating on the isle of man. ]

They are. [ despite the relationship he's built with corr, sean doesn't hesitate in his agreement. the capaill uisce are wild things through and through, it's better and safer to recognize that from the get go. ] There are ways to control them, and some are worse than others. But they're no house pet, to be sure.

[ it occurs to him, several minutes too late, that amidst the other talk he'd forgotten to introduce himself. his father would slap him upside the head for that, if he were alive. ] Sean Kendrick, by the way.

[nakedsingularity]

_{[To be fair to him, it doesn't even cross Henry's mind to circle back and make with the social niceties. When you've got 99 problems, remembering your manners ain't one. If her mother is still alive she'd probably sigh and not be in the least bit surprised.]}

Okay. So there's a demon horse running around ready to eat someone's face? _{[O k a y.]} And you want to go near it?

_{[The last part isn't adding up in her mind. Setting aside the fact this is all nuts and she's quite possibly having a psychotic break, if this thing really is running amok and is as dangerous as he says, why would anyone want to risk going after it?]}

Henry. _{[He has her thinking about carnivorous horses; her return introduction comes with a small, distracted shake of her head.]} Coles. Back to the murder pony-- how do you know all this?

[nojockey]

[ henry. okay. he'll ask about that later. ]

That's a story. [ a long one, maybe not entirely one she wants to hear beginning to end. sean is silent for a moment, considering how to summarize. ]

I train them for races, have done since I was ten. [ he knows the tricks by now, has picked them up through necessity and hard work. ] And Corr, the one who came with me—I've had him for six years.

[ although truth be told, sean's not sure how corr will respond to being in a place like this all at once, somewhere without sea or salt wind. maybe sean can calm him, but maybe not. the holly berries in his pocket are heavy with possibility. ]

[nakedsingularity]

<sub>[Well... She looks around them, at the quaint, dated streets like something out of a period piece. Everything about Deerington seems like one hell of a story, what's a chapter or two more?

Her suspension of disbelief is getting a workout today. She takes a moment of her own to digest, her narrow-eyed look of thought returning. She's trying, she's really trying. God help her, but she is.]</sub>

That makes exactly no sense.

_{[... She's honest in her abject confusion, if nothing else.]}

And that doesn't answer my question about why you want to find this... dangerous, meat-eating water horse thing. Maybe this is stupid to ask, I don't know, but wouldn't it be safer to just, like. Leave it alone?

_{[Is she crazy? Does this not sound like something a person would want to run away from?]}

[nojockey]

I suppose it wouldn't. The island where I live is the only place in the world the capaill uisce come ashore... In the old religion there's a goddess, Epona, the mother of horses, and Ler the god of the sea. I suppose the races started to honor them, and to remind ourselves of our place in all of this.

[ or, well, all of that. this is a very different place than thisby, and sean has no doubt that very few people he'll meet here will have any idea about epona or ler or any of the old gods, let alone the scorpio races themselves.

he shakes his head a little in response to her follow up question. ] He's my charge. If I leave him be and he kills someone, that'll be on me.

[ it pains him to say this, but— ] If I can't get him under control I'll have to kill him, but I'd rather it be me than anything else.

[nakedsingularity]

Dude.

<sub>[One word containing a wealth of amazed incredulity. To the ears of someone from upstate New York whose greatest exposure to pagan traditions are the fantasy novels that sit on Townes' bookshelves, he talks like an exotic bit of poetry.

Islands and magical sea creatures and old religions and charges. Who is this guy? He's like a cross between Dr. Dolittle and Mr. Darcy.]</sub>

Literal water horses that come from the sea?

_{[Unfortunately, the part about responsibility actually resonates with a certain logic where the rest doesn't, and she squeezes her eyes shut like she's forcing herself to swallow something sour. Fuck.]}

Okay, so--where would one go? _{[She opens her eyes like some decision's been made, tucking loose hair behind her ears. A practiced move, something to do with her hands so she's not thinking about the bugfuck nuts thing she says next.]} The pool? A lake? Somewhere with water?

[nojockey]

Literal water horses that come from the sea. [ with a nod to confirm it.

dr. dolittle and mr. darcy isn't the worst combination. sean is mostly just relieved to have someone to search with, and grateful that that someone is worlds away less intimidated by him than the people of skarmouth tend to be. ]

He'll look for water first. I don't think there's a sea here... if there is he'd go there first. If not, a lake or river.

[nakedsingularity]

<sub>[She wishes he didn't repeat it; it just makes her feel crazier and she doesn't need any help feeling crazy on a good day. It might be time to embrace her fate.

From her pocket she pulls out a square of paper, unfolding it to reveal the copy of the map she'd found earlier with the rest of her belongings. Turning, she moves to stand beside Sean so the map of Deerington is visible to the both of them. There's a bright side to being up to her eyeballs in crazy shit, and it's that at some point it's too tiring to jump at every shadow. Between Mr. Darcy and Corr the aquatic man-killer, she's more worried about the horse.]</sub>

We're a long ways off from the ocean, but there's a lake. _{[Her fingertip lands on Lake Tomie, then to Koji Pond.]} And a pond. Spoiled for choice.

[nojockey]

[ oh, a map. now that he thinks of it, sean's pretty sure he saw one in his own basket, but he'd been in too much of a hurry to get to corr to remember to take it.

he furrows his brow, considering the map. ] Both are freshwater... [ that's a guess, but a safe one, he figures. ] The lake, I think. He'd be able to swim there.

[ sean's fingertips trace a path from the lake, but it takes a moment of orientation, glancing around, for him to figure out where they are currently. he's never in his life needed a map to know his location and it's disorienting to need one now. ] This way?

[nakedsingularity]

Right. Because a water horse that lives in water would swim... Makes sense.

<sub>[The comment is more for her than Sean. Don't mind her murmuring to herself.

Sean is in luck in respect to navigating strange spaces; moving around her whole life has left Henry adept at hunting down 7-Elevens on unmarked roads with the fuel gauge hovering on empty. Finding a fantasy horse with a hope and a prayer and a hand-drawn map isn't quite the same thing, but she can at least be relatively sure of the direction they need to go in.

They? He. The direction he needs to go in. She's not even sure how she got wrapped up in this.]</sub>

If you believe the creepy map that looks like a kid drew it, then yeah. Looks like you can just follow the river. _{[She peers at him, hesitating on whether or not to add anything else.]} What's your plan?

_{[Is he going to be okay by himself?]}

[nojockey]

[ well, she's welcome to come. but sean is independent, won't assume she's part of this unless she indicates she wants to be.

he narrows his eyes a little as he looks down the road, the way she'd indicated. habitual, against wind and salt. ] Follow the river, I suppose. And hope he'll let me calm him.

[ if not, though—he withdraws a handful of holly berries, red as poison, from the pocket of his jacket. ]

They were with me when I woke up. [ a wry smile. ] If you ever meet a capall uisce in the wild—and I hope you don't—but if you do, holly berries will kill them in seconds.

[nakedsingularity]

_{[Where were you ten years ago when she was still in her unicorn princess phase and would've loved to ride on a magic horse?]}

That's it? _{[She's a bit surprised to hear his itinerary is almost as sparse as hers.]} You don't know where he is, where you're going, or if he's going to be in the mood to take a chunk out of you or not... and you're just going to walk around until you find him?

<sub>[At least she'd gotten a sword out of the deal the last time her dreaming mind sent her on a monster hunt. Compared to that, the berries look very small in the palm of the boy's hand. Small and harmless.

There's a long pause wherein she splits a skeptical, uncertain glance between them and his face.]</sub>

It sounds like you're saying the best defense is jamming those things in their mouth and getting your hand bitten off.

_{[Her tone is clear: that's a shitty plan. The powers at be couldn't have splurged on a tranquilizer gun instead?]}

[nojockey]

[ assuming he doesn't have to murder his horse, sean would be (maybe) happy to grant that wish (much) later.

when she says it all like that, it doesn't sound exactly like the best laid plan. still, sean doesn't have any better ideas. ] I don't know what else there is for it. I can't just leave him be, and I don't know if he'll come to find me if I don't go looking. [ corr doesn't come when called, although he knows sean's voice. even without the song of the sea driving him half-mad as it does on thisby, sean's not sure he can trust that the change of landscape won't set corr wild again. but what else can he do? ]

Nostrils. [ absently. then he blinks and looks back up at her. the very corner of his mouth quirks in a faint smile. ] Not mouth. Though I suppose it might not make much of a difference.

[nakedsingularity]

You say that like finding you would be a good thing.

_{[And Henry doesn't get it--why he talks about his monster almost in terms of a lost companion instead of, you know, a monster, or how he's so calm about charging after it armed with berries--but this guy is super British so maybe it's a death wish thing, who knows.]}

Nostrils. _{[Repeated after him, amending herself.]} And that's funny...?

<sub>[She looks on his wan smile with a kind of furrowed curiosity, unable to get a read on it or the sentiment behind it. That, too, is super British.

Sighing, Henry gives up the ghost that she has any logical foothold here and abruptly starts walking without a further word, looking back over her shoulder.]</sub>

All right, let's find your horse, horse whisperer. Bring your berries.

_{[If left to his own devices, she's a bit worried what state she's going to find this guy in next. Maybe this is what she's supposed to be doing, maybe it's not, but the smell of blood hasn't left her own nose; the thought of more of it being spilled curdles her stomach and helps settle her decision.]}

[nojockey]

I don't know if it's funny. It just struck me how absurd this must sound to someone who doesn't know Thisby.

[ he's sure that it all must be terribly confusing for her, but he's never really had to explain any of this to anyone—sean has been off his island exactly once in his entire life, and that was a trip to a horse race, where nearly everyone had one foot already in the world of sport horses and the wilder capall uisce of thisby.

sean is arguably more of an expert in his field than anyone else alive, but he's floundering a little with the subtleties. ]

Oh. [ he'd not entirely expected her to come along, but he's thankful for the company. ] I appreciate that.

[nakedsingularity]

_{[Yeah. Yeah, it is a bit of a head trip, just a little. Her heart is pounding, there's a nervous energy bunching the muscles of her legs, and she needs to get home--she needs to know what damage Bill's rampage and her attempts at stopping him caused--but she shrugs as if it's water under the bridge. As if by his pointing it out, she's resolved not to let it be a big deal.]}

Yeah, well, I'm kind of used to absurd.

<sub>[And that's not entirely a lie. It's just her brand of absurd tends to involve less literal monsters--more the human kind, the kind you wouldn't see coming unless you knew what was hiding under their smiles.

Not really able to explain her reasons for "helping" (it being debatable what kind of help she can be) beyond that a horse capable of hurting people doesn't sound like something that should be left unattended, she doesn't really know how to answer his thanks, and so doesn't, offering a second smaller, noncommittal shrug.]</sub>

Wouldn't happen to have a car, would you?

_{[A vehicle would make any kind of search worlds easier than hoofing it. No pun intended.]}

[nojockey]

[ that's a relief, sort of, although sean's pretty sure her brand of absurd isn't exactly aligned with his; still, his body language conveys some of his understanding, even if he says nothing.

another sean kendrick specialty: saying no words but still somehow conveying meaning. ]

A car? [ he's not sure why he's surprised that she asks, because a car would probably make things much faster. ] I can't drive. Never needed to learn...

[ although he supposes she might be able to. but nonetheless, a car had not been on sean's checklist. ]

[nakedsingularity]

_{[She likes that he says nothing. Prefers it, really, as the less he asks or says on his end, the fewer lies she has to spin or imaginative hoops she has to jump through on hers. Doubtless this water horse stuff is going to gnaw away at her until she breaks down and asks of her own accord, but for now having a tentative goal is enough to occupy their attention.]}

Great. And seizure girl without her license. We make quite the pair.

<sub>[Once again it's commentary more mumbled at no one in particular as she scans the old timey vehicles parked along the streets.

Of the two of them, she can drive, and having her license legally revoked on account of her medical issues wouldn't necessarily stop her from getting behind a wheel. Nor would the lack of a car between them--there are plenty to borrow. ("Borrow.") But she hasn't found any unlocked doors since she's been walking around or seen any keys conveniently left in ignitions. Which means...]</sub>

Guess I shouldn't bother asking if you know how to hotwire one... _{[Her criminal exploits aren't so thorough that she'd picked up the skill. Kind of wishing she had now.]} Walking it is, then.

[nojockey]

[ if these are old timey vehicles to her she should see the ones they drove on thisby. hoo-wee.

sean shakes his head, barely. ] I don't know what that means.

[ he'd make a terrible criminal. ]

Walking might be better. This town can't be that big, can it? And he'd like as not run from a car he didn't know.

[ so walking it is, with renewed purpose along the road toward the river. the smell of it is wrong, or at least different; no salt, no brine, no kelp or jellies washed up and rotting. but it's water, so sean hopes that's where corr will be. ]

[nakedsingularity]

_{[Her backward glance turns into a double-take. He doesn't know what...? Maybe this is another instance of the language barrier at play.]}

You know, to wire it so it starts without a key. They call that something else where you're from?

_{[Another unpronounceable word with harsh-sounding consonants, perhaps? Capall uisce is still eluding her, though maybe it'll help her win a scrabble game one day. If she ever played scrabble. Or had a hope in hell of spelling the word to use it.]}

Your guess is as good as mine. Ten minutes ago, I wouldn't have said horses ate meat, either. _{[Matching pace, her hands find her pockets again, along with the map, which is now probably getting crinkled beyond repair with the rest of the detritus in her pockets, pill bottle included.]} If he's such a monster horse, what's he have to be afraid of?

cw animal death part 2

[nojockey]

[ he considers that. wire a car so it starts without a key? ] To steal it? [ there's no judgment in his voice, no aversion. sean is truly a live and let live type, as long as he's left to his own devices. ] There weren't too many cars in Skarmouth, anyway. And plenty of people to witness.

[ a beat. ] That is, the nearest town to me on Thisby. [ she's american, sean. remember it. what he means is: if anyone had tried to steal a car or a lorry in skarmouth, everyone would have known who'd done it by nightfall. nobody would be that foolish.

also, corr doesn't know cars, not really. nobody parked near the teind stall, not even the truck the malverns used to transport their sport horses. ]

I don't know if he's afraid— [ as they turn the corner, sean's gaze comes to rest on something in the road. something improbable, a mess of meat and blood and fur. it's a cat, or what remains of one, he thinks. this violence sean has seen before, although on the beaches it was usually men with their bodies caught in capall jaws.

without much thought to it, he puts his body in between her and the remains, so she'll not have to look at it too long, and says wryly: ] We're on the right path, anyway.

equine public menace: confirmed

[nakedsingularity]

Generally to steal it, yeah.

<sub>[She looks sidelong at him, forthcoming in her answer. If he had wrinkled his nose in judgement at her, her answer probably would've still come with the same staunch nonchalance.

The people of Reston had talked the same way about their small town like Sean talks about his Thisby, seemingly baffled by what would possess a teenage girl to spray paint their sleepy provincial town red in the middle of the night, like somehow they were above it. Like somehow crime only happened in other places, spoken with underlying condescension. Well, that had been bullshit when the veneer had been pulled down, hadn't it?]</sub>

If you ask me, a small pond just means you can get away with bigger shit. If you're the big fish in it.

<sub>[Like Bill Boone had been in hers.

It's a mistake to be thinking about Bill Boone as he was before, because when they pass the bend and she catches a glimpse of the raw, red meat staining the dirt before Sean blocks her eye line (and she's grateful for it, even if someone who hates to be seen as weak like her lacks the words for it), she can only think about how he was after. It isn't really the cat that has her clasping a hand over her mouth and twisting away, expression grit against the display of brutality.

In the end, Bill hadn't looked much different than this cat. Wet. Stringy. Dead. A wave of sick heat rolls over her, dotting her with sweat under her clothes, but she forces herself not to make a sound, breathing out her nose.]</sub>