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countryclub2021-11-19 02:06 am
reddosmod) wrote in countryclub2021-11-19 02:06 am
Entry tags:
November 2021 Test Drive Meme
NOVEMBER 2021 TDM
NOT SO STANDARD ARRIVAL
FROZEN RELICS
THE THINGS THEY CARRIED
CODING
Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!
All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.
Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.
Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.
If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!
IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Perfect dog curled up in falling snow, tilting head to side.]
[Image Two: Dead man floating in water with signs of hypothermia.]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Frozen ship wreck.]
[Image Two: Frozen staircase.]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Bloody tentacles attacking soldiers.]
[Image Two: Tentacles coming out of astronaut suit.]
All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.
Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.
Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.
If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!
Prompt One
[Image One: Perfect dog curled up in falling snow, tilting head to side.]
[Image Two: Dead man floating in water with signs of hypothermia.]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Frozen ship wreck.]
[Image Two: Frozen staircase.]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Bloody tentacles attacking soldiers.]
[Image Two: Tentacles coming out of astronaut suit.]
WHEN: November - December
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk
CONTENT WARNINGS: Drowning, freezing to death, trapped under ice, hypothermia, frost bite.
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk
CONTENT WARNINGS: Drowning, freezing to death, trapped under ice, hypothermia, frost bite.
Washing up on the Farther Shores towards the end of November and the beginning of December isn't the best experience. Normally there are some Sleepers who can show up without a hitch, but as winter nears, the waters begin to freeze and it gets increasingly dangerous to arrive on the Farther Shores. Many Sleepers wind up trapped under ice. Wakers must especially be diligent this month to make sure they don't lose valuable Sleepers. Drowning and freezing to death is extremely probable. If you're lucky, you might be able to break through the ice to shriek for help. Let's just hope someone's around to hear you!
Most of the Boardwalk has been converted to save the Sleepers that do make it. Tents have been put up and inside are mattresses stuffed with hay and blankets made from wool and furs. Contained coal and wood fires keep the tents cozy, but it might take a while before you get feeling back into your toes. If you have warmblood or coldblood you will not have nearly as bad of a time with all of this. Some coldblood Sleepers might not even notice the cold! Might be good to put them on the frontlines for helping people out.
Another oddity this month is that most Sleepers seem to arrive at night rather than the typical daytime arrivals. Maybe it's because daytime hours are much shorter in December...But maybe it's something else too. This has led to Wakers making search parties to try and find Sleepers in the pitch-black night. It's a precarious situation and all hands on deck are strongly encouraged.
The Dog Keeper has come out to help the efforts. His dogs can be seen running frantically around the beach to help find people buried under ice and to help break through the ice to get them to safety. Dogs are available to help Sleepers swim to the Farther Shores, and they are also available to help Sleepers warm up by cuddling up afterward. There isn't much food to offer at this time, but you can still expect to be greeted with some hot soup. It might leave you hungry, but it definitely seems to help warm you up!
Most of the Boardwalk has been converted to save the Sleepers that do make it. Tents have been put up and inside are mattresses stuffed with hay and blankets made from wool and furs. Contained coal and wood fires keep the tents cozy, but it might take a while before you get feeling back into your toes. If you have warmblood or coldblood you will not have nearly as bad of a time with all of this. Some coldblood Sleepers might not even notice the cold! Might be good to put them on the frontlines for helping people out.
Another oddity this month is that most Sleepers seem to arrive at night rather than the typical daytime arrivals. Maybe it's because daytime hours are much shorter in December...But maybe it's something else too. This has led to Wakers making search parties to try and find Sleepers in the pitch-black night. It's a precarious situation and all hands on deck are strongly encouraged.
The Dog Keeper has come out to help the efforts. His dogs can be seen running frantically around the beach to help find people buried under ice and to help break through the ice to get them to safety. Dogs are available to help Sleepers swim to the Farther Shores, and they are also available to help Sleepers warm up by cuddling up afterward. There isn't much food to offer at this time, but you can still expect to be greeted with some hot soup. It might leave you hungry, but it definitely seems to help warm you up!
WHEN: End of November, early December
WHERE: Farther Shores/Pthumerian Ocean
CONTENT WARNINGS: Mutilated corpses, frozen bodies, possible frost bite/hypothermia, disaster-centric setting.
WHERE: Farther Shores/Pthumerian Ocean
CONTENT WARNINGS: Mutilated corpses, frozen bodies, possible frost bite/hypothermia, disaster-centric setting.
Sleepers aren't the only thing struggling in the Pthumerian Ocean this time of year. Boats come crushing in through the ice, frozen over completely by blistering winds. The ocean seems to be spitting up boats from times long past, leaving their skeletons strewn along the Farther Shores. Some are small boats, barely worth a second glance, but others are massive vessels, cutting intimidating shapes against the dark sky beyond.
Some Sleepers may even wake up in the water-submerged bowels of these boats, having to navigate a metallic graveyard. Other Sleepers might just have the sense to go and scavenge the boats for useful supplies and parts. Valuable metals can be extracted from the boats as well as other mechanical pieces - but not just that. Sleepers who explore thoroughly will discover small non-magical items from their home might be on the boats, floating in the water, or in random debris. Some boats are trader boats, having entire crates of sealed food goods like rare chocolates, fruits, and other food that is difficult to find this time of year.
You will want to thoroughly bundle up for this trip because it's much colder inside of the boats than it is outside. It's as if they have been transformed into giant freezers. Coldbloods may be able to provide their companions with steady warmth, even if their abilities are typically more ice-centric. It seems like coldbloods can manipulate the cold in these boats to be less intense. Some of the boats may have more grim discoveries: dead bodies, some skeletal, others still with the flesh intact and frozen over. It's never easy to discover the corpses of those who have tried to brave the ocean and failed.
It's easy to believe that what killed these people was the ocean or the cold...But the more bodies you discover, the more thoroughly you explore these shipwrecks, you begin to have a creeping feeling that these aren't ordinary crashes. These weren't natural causes. Some of the bodies look as if the chests had been ripped open while others, the faces have been completely distorted beyond recognition. There is an undeniable presence of something on these ships and you have a feeling whatever killed these people has now been brought to Trench...Great!
Some Sleepers may even wake up in the water-submerged bowels of these boats, having to navigate a metallic graveyard. Other Sleepers might just have the sense to go and scavenge the boats for useful supplies and parts. Valuable metals can be extracted from the boats as well as other mechanical pieces - but not just that. Sleepers who explore thoroughly will discover small non-magical items from their home might be on the boats, floating in the water, or in random debris. Some boats are trader boats, having entire crates of sealed food goods like rare chocolates, fruits, and other food that is difficult to find this time of year.
You will want to thoroughly bundle up for this trip because it's much colder inside of the boats than it is outside. It's as if they have been transformed into giant freezers. Coldbloods may be able to provide their companions with steady warmth, even if their abilities are typically more ice-centric. It seems like coldbloods can manipulate the cold in these boats to be less intense. Some of the boats may have more grim discoveries: dead bodies, some skeletal, others still with the flesh intact and frozen over. It's never easy to discover the corpses of those who have tried to brave the ocean and failed.
It's easy to believe that what killed these people was the ocean or the cold...But the more bodies you discover, the more thoroughly you explore these shipwrecks, you begin to have a creeping feeling that these aren't ordinary crashes. These weren't natural causes. Some of the bodies look as if the chests had been ripped open while others, the faces have been completely distorted beyond recognition. There is an undeniable presence of something on these ships and you have a feeling whatever killed these people has now been brought to Trench...Great!
WHEN: During Bone Season
WHERE: Throughout Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Parasitic monsters, tentacle horror, crushing/bursting styles of death, a form of beasthood, mild auto-cannibalism/self-harm.
WHERE: Throughout Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Parasitic monsters, tentacle horror, crushing/bursting styles of death, a form of beasthood, mild auto-cannibalism/self-harm.
You notice specks of blood that seem to appear from nowhere among the snowdrifts. When you pay closer attention, you may see more blood dripping...up. It doesn't look like any Sleeper Blood you're familiar with but instead appears to be black-blue colored, reflecting like glass, bubbling up out of the ground. It makes a small, glass-shattering noise when it appears before it bubbles back into the ground. It leaves a rotten odor in its wake.
The moment you get too close to the blood, even a foot away, it will expand rapidly. Bloodied tentacles will grow out of the blood and start violently lashing around at whatever living creatures are nearby. These tentacles are powerful, impervious to any weapons not reinforced with Sleeper Blood. They will grab up people and break their bodies, throwing them through the air or tearing them apart, seeming to nourish from the bloodshed.
However, some people are less lucky than a swift death. Some of these tentacles may snap right into your chest, opening up some blood portal into your soul, where this Thing will consume you. On the outside, this looks like a rush of this black-blue blood rushing into a Sleeper and then nothing. You'll feel disoriented and strange at first but will become increasingly agitated, violent with those around you. You will start to gnaw at your fingers to shed your new temporarily altered blood. Eventually, you will begin to attack other Sleepers, able to summon these bloodied tentacles and destroy anything in your path.
But this is a parasitic monster you carry. It eats away your sanity until nothing is left, and then the tentacles will burst out of you, your body left to ruin. Parasitic monsters can be removed by Blood Ministers or by forcing vileblood into the infected's body. The vileblood seems to purge the parasite without killing the host body...As long as you don't use too much. Once the parasite has consumed the body, there is no saving the Sleeper except through death. These parasites can be tracked back to the boats where people can find streaks of the unusual black-blue blood throughout the boats. This blood can be contained and isolated by darkbloods and/or Architects.
The moment you get too close to the blood, even a foot away, it will expand rapidly. Bloodied tentacles will grow out of the blood and start violently lashing around at whatever living creatures are nearby. These tentacles are powerful, impervious to any weapons not reinforced with Sleeper Blood. They will grab up people and break their bodies, throwing them through the air or tearing them apart, seeming to nourish from the bloodshed.
However, some people are less lucky than a swift death. Some of these tentacles may snap right into your chest, opening up some blood portal into your soul, where this Thing will consume you. On the outside, this looks like a rush of this black-blue blood rushing into a Sleeper and then nothing. You'll feel disoriented and strange at first but will become increasingly agitated, violent with those around you. You will start to gnaw at your fingers to shed your new temporarily altered blood. Eventually, you will begin to attack other Sleepers, able to summon these bloodied tentacles and destroy anything in your path.
But this is a parasitic monster you carry. It eats away your sanity until nothing is left, and then the tentacles will burst out of you, your body left to ruin. Parasitic monsters can be removed by Blood Ministers or by forcing vileblood into the infected's body. The vileblood seems to purge the parasite without killing the host body...As long as you don't use too much. Once the parasite has consumed the body, there is no saving the Sleeper except through death. These parasites can be tracked back to the boats where people can find streaks of the unusual black-blue blood throughout the boats. This blood can be contained and isolated by darkbloods and/or Architects.
arrival/relics v1: naked thancred edition
Illarion, on the other hand, had stuck around. Half on the off-chance some squids might make their way by instinct or luck to the hole, and half because there's a whole ship to poke through and it didn't seem as if any salvage teams had looted this one yet. It was also an opportunity to puzzle through the mystery of what had killed the crew--something he's in the midst of when a voice from outside interrupts his concentration. His hearing's sharp enough he catches the back half of the one-sided conversation, and thus--
"You are looking for clothes?" a voice calls down from the deck. It's strange, resonant but not with the right echoes for the shape of the boat or the ice beneath it. "I have a crate here with them. Do you wish for me to push it over?"
From the scraping sounds that shortly follow, he's completely ready to do it.
no subject
Which means when there's a scraping sound above, after a voice suggested there was clothes in a crate, this seems perfectly reasonable. Toss it down, he can get some pants and maybe some shoes..
"Yes, that would be fanta--" No. No it wouldn't, wait, wouldn't that just break a hole-- "WAIT NO, it might punch through the ice!" Although he can't actually see anyone, he waves his hands as if it'll somehow ward off this less than well thought out decision. "I- I'll come up just.. give me a moment. Actually could you ..toss down something that might be pants first if you can? Average hyur sized if you can find anything of that sort."
The cold wasn't bothering him much but he WAS soaking wet and running around buck naked really isn't something he should be doing.
no subject
his potential victim'sthe other Sleeper's hasty refusal is sufficient to keep him from acting on that impulse.He'd have to push a couple off the other side of the ship later. Things that wouldn't suffer for getting soaked in sea water or splashed all over the ice.
(It would quiet the gnawing hunger.)
"Hm. I am not fully certain you are translating right, since I am not knowing how large the average hyur might be, but I will guess--" Since humans were the most common form of Sleeper to wash up lately, something suited to an average-sized human male might do. He sticks a hand through the crate, pulling the nails closing the top outward before removing it. Human-sized pants...
A minute later, not a pair of pants but a faintly glowing creature somewhere between a bird and a moth flies out over the edge of the deck. It hovers for the seconds it takes the spot the totally naked Sleeper on the ice, before spiraling down to drop a rolled-up pair of lined jeans at his feet. They'll be baggy, but workable.
"There is ladder toward the aft on this side of the ship but it is a man's height off the ice," the voice from above calls down. "I will be waiting there, if those suit."
no subject
He is, at his heart, still a teacher, still a creator, and coming across something completely new, something he'd never encountered before even in theory was ... excruciatingly rare. Whatever the person up on the ship was doing, it's less of an interest than the moth-bird that delivers the item requested.
There are no such creatures either on the Source or any of its' shards. And clearly it was tamed in some fashion, as it had been used for simple manual labor--
"Hm?" Oh right he's supposed to be paying attention to what's been said, and pants have indeed been delivered, even if for the moment being entirely without anything else to wear is somewhat secondary to wanting to figure out what that creature is and who designed it. Decency must reluctantly come first, and while keeping an eye on the bird-bug, he hastily works on getting the pants on - loose but they'll do. Better than nothing, and there would be more presumably on board. "Is this your-" What did they call animals they kept for pleasure instead of meat or hides or the like.. "..Pet?"
It's not something his host would be as keen on as he is, but no-one would know that. He reluctantly heads for the mentioned ladder, peering in the dark a bit before locating it and heading up, half of his attention on wherever that creature might be now.
no subject
"She is my Omen. They are creatures of blood magic, not true animals; more an ally than a pet."
The Omen in question bobs in place with timing too good not to be a nod. Then she's off her perch in a spray of frost, winging after the new Sleeper. One loop around him to see how he'll approach the ladder, then she's soaring to the top of it herself. She catches the nearby railing in her claws and turns to watch the newcomer climb with obvious interest.
She's joined in short order by her Sleeper, who leans his crossed arms on the railing and doesn't bother turning his veiled eyes toward the man on the ladder; what would be the point? "But if you are asking about the creature she resembles, we do not keep these as pets, as a rule. A leshonka may bless her family's house with her presence, but comes and goes as she pleases, or as She Herself tells her. But that is all proper to my world, and not the forests of this one.
"Welcome to the Waking World," he continues, grinning in a not wholly comfortable way, "you are very far from home."
no subject
The creature is a strange, bright spot in the dark of night.
It's with less coordination than he likes that he fights the ladder proper, lingering disorientation making him clumsy and slow, but he doesn't at least humiliate himself by falling. This information is weighed in silence as the body works on its ascent, with a species name to suggest they aren't ALL blood and sorcery, and the possibility of other worlds.
The idea is not new. Lahabrea knew of many worlds, not all of them pieces of the Source. The arrival of the dragons had seen to a brief exploration of sapient life beyond their star, but other needs had to be met first, other battles fought and won before they could turn their attention to strange new things as alien life. It was possible this stranger had no grasp on different worlds and was truly from somewhere more familiar, and yet he was strangely sure this was not so. The mothlike bird in all its unfamiliarity was a mark of that.
The sharp-fanged grin is not entirely a friendly one as it registers to the Ascian, but he returns it, bared-teeth and not quite a smile, struggling his way onboard in comparative silence. Still soaking wet, icicles forming on the tips of his hair, he is still not cold. He is, however, distracted, and once on deck he grasps the rail as if to steady himself and closes his eyes.
You are very far from home.
When he opens them again, it's to the riot of color and energy flow that is aether and not mundane physicality, the ebb and pull of magic that was a world's fundamental nature. The seascape, etched in the pale austere of umbral ice, the distant ribbons of bronze earth and more, unfamiliar and yet wholly understandable in the way a tree is a tree on any world, in any language. He was not as adept as some, but it served him well enough. There is a long, long pause as his gaze sweeps first across the omen-creature and then Illarion himself, grip tightening to white-knuckled on the rail for a long bone-creaking moment before he forces fingers to relax by degrees. In the distance, the pale, wan glimmer of mortality. Some under the ice. Some not.
"I can see that," is the eventual response, tone subdued by force of will. And he can. He knows the Source and its Shards as he knew himself, and this .... this wasn't it.
It adds to the disorientation in a nauseating lurch, and that too is forced away, along with the singing jolt of adrenaline as best he can. I am the master of this vessel, it will do as I command. "How far, though, I wonder."
no subject
Illarion doesn't react. His Omen does, drawing herself up in a posture of alertness with antennae quivering and feathers slicked.
He saw something. How much and how clearly were the questions, though not any the shrike will broach openly.
Yet. Anyone who could see him in full deserved to be warned of the risks they ran, but that's not a conversation to be had while one of them's soaking wet.
"Nearer than perhaps we guess, but still out of reach." He shifts himself off the railing, backing up one step, two, until one heel bumps against the opened crate he dragged over. More pants and a few shirts are hung over the edges, oddly neat in their arrangement. "It is a great deal to take in, all at once, and you having only just lost your tentacles.
"You are well enough to dry yourself and dress?"
no subject
But not now, not while he had shards to undo and a world to make whole. There was no time for this, any of it, and impatience burns away curiosity with ease. He can't act on it, not yet, not where others might notice and wonder. Word could not get back to those he played as fools until it was time and he chose to remove that veil of delusion himself.
"Yes, of course." He isn't ... quite, but there's a lot to be said for determination and stubborn persistence, both of which he has in spades. For Illarion, having dealt with newly awakened Sleepers probably fairly often, Lahabrea's discoordination is probably fully expected and thoroughly unremarkabe, selecting a shirt in the dimness of the night and pulling it on without bothering to check for things like color. Or drying off. He'll dry eventually, the cold simply wasn't getting through.
It's hard to try to not classify the riot of aether that strikes him as outright WRONG around and through the stranger, though. It sketched an outline beyond the body's shape, like a voidsent trying to hide. It would be enough to fool mortal senses, certainly, but he knew what voidsent looked like, and this wasn't it. It wasn't dark aether, it was..
... Something different. Corrupted in a strange way he couldn't quite identify. And so he watches, out of the side of an eye or when he thinks he's not being watched in turn. "The ... ah, 'tentacles'.."
no subject
Though both he and his Omen do keep their watchful attention turned that way, in case they should need to step in gracefully and assist. It's the latter of the pair who takes silent note they're being stared at.
That will definitely need addressing.
"The tentacles," Illarion echoes. "And the squid they are attached to. That was real, and that is now what you are, as far as this world is concerned."
It may not be where the other man was leading to, but it's good to get that explanation out of the way early.
no subject
Absently he runs his thumbs across his fingertips. No, he can still feel that perfectly well.. "Why aren't I still a squid, then?"
Mitron would have a field day.
The shirt is resisting his best efforts, discoordinated in the dark, but he's getting there bit by stubborn, persistent bit. Being wet is in no way helping this effort. The world considering him a sea critter was not something he intended to tolerate long. He had things to do and none of them was being a squid. "Or you for that matter."
no subject
He picks up one the surplus shirts left hanging off the crate and approaches. "Here. This may work better if you are more dry. Might I help?" By toweling him off with the spare shirt. It's flannel.
"To give you the whole truth, I do not know myself how this works. We awaken from the squids and return to them if we depart or die, only to come forth from the ocean once more in our more accustomed shapes when we are called to it. This is the way of the world, for Sleepers."
no subject
And the struggle pauses when Illarion offers to assist, staring blankly at the bird-elezen for a long, long moment.
Eventually a conclusion IS reached, and he shrugs. "As you'd like, I've no issue one way or another." His issue! Is sticky damp fabric!! And maybe if it helped end the indignity a little bit sooner it would be a worthwhile thing to endure. "And the places from whence we have come? Is the sea our venue to return there as well?"
no subject
...Maybe bonus. Depends on if the guy's fingers still remember what buttons are for.
Either way, traded or not, Illarion will use the fabric he's got to towel his new acquaintance down, completely matter-of-fact about it. Although he can't quite keep himself from a comment: "It is fortunate, you are seeming to be a coldblood. I am not much help if you were starting to freeze." It's a good thing he's not barehanded while doing this; cold undead flesh would be marginally worse than cold gloves, if they accidentally touched.
"As to your question, so far as I have heard, it is so that the sea takes us back when we are done here. Whether the ones who leave always go straight home--this thing, I do not know. Sometimes, it is so a Sleeper washes up again not long after leaving."
no subject
Proceeding cautiously wasn't something Lahabrea much liked doing.
He might be dealing with someone cold-blooded in return though, for as Illarion lends his aid he can't help but note the stranger is nearly the same temperature as the air. It doesn't chill him, nothing seemed to be doing so, but it was.. noteworthy.
There's a muttered thanks though, at being aided in being sodden wet and now having a second, less soddenly wet shirt; almost embarassment, almost gratitude, mixed and jumbled somewhere in between in an awkwardness that likely isn't unfamiliar. "A Sleeper-- is what everyone who is here is called, no matter their species?"
no subject
He steps back away from the other man, now that his mission's accomplished--decorously giving him space--and neatly folds the sodden shirt before dropping it beside the crate it came from. He'd hang it up to dry, but in these conditions it's more like to freeze, and a frozen brick's less awkward to transport than some kind of...shirt envelope.
"Not everyone--only we who come from the squids, and have the changed blood, are Sleepers. There are humans here who are natives, and there are the Pthumerians, who are--hmm--near enough to gods; and there are monsters, and beasts, and perhaps other creatures we do not know of yet."