countryclub | July Test Drive Meme!

Entry tags:

meme: tdm

July Test Drive Meme!

JULY 2022 TDM

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: Colorful paper lanterns shaped like jellyfish lit up and hovering in the air. ]
[Image Two: A person with long hair wearing a crown dedicated with shells and rocks. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A GIF of waves breaking roughly out in the middle of the ocean. ]
[Image Two: Strong waves crashing into a lighthouse and rocks. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: A large Ningen (a sea creature that is half human, half monster, and has no face except for a large slit for a mouth) towering over a deep sea diver. ]
[Image Two: A person standing out on the rocks with their arms out stretched as the tentacles of a large sea monster wave in the air above the ocean. ]

[NAVIGATION]

TDM Questions • Reserves • Taken • Applications • Full Navigation

[Jump to Comments]

STANDARD ARRIVAL

WHEN: August
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk
CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

You're one of the lucky ones. Your journey is smooth sailing and you wind up exactly where you're supposed to: on the Farther Shores. You grow out of your squid body without a hitch, either with the help of another Sleeper or one of the Wakers, and you get to discover this new world. All new Sleepers might take some time to find their bearings. It might be tricky to remember how to use your body parts the way you're supposed to. You might stumble around the beach or forget how to talk - but don't worry! It'll come back to you sooner or later.

Hopefully, you've found something to wear, either in your Welcoming Bag or otherwise, and can start familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. Maybe you help some other squids out on the beach. Waking up sucks! You feel for the little guys. And hey, maybe you're hoping one of those squids is a good friend...Stranger things have happened.

SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK
This month has an entire festival dedicated to Mariana. The people of Trench seem to be quite enamoured with her, despite her often cruel and unpredictable behaviors. The festival has gone all out with decorations. The boardwalk will be lined with lanterns in the shape of various sea creatures, such as jellyfish, dolphins, seahorses, and (of course) squids! These lanterns will be lit every night throughout the month and will burn through the night. They are bright beacons to a month that is otherwise becoming more and more gray and chilly as time passes.

The people of Trench are also decked out for the occasion. Blues and greens are the popular color choices for outfits, and many people will even decorate their hair with pieces from the ocean. Whether it's with full headpieces that are worthy enough for mermaids or just something as simple as weaving shells into a braid, everyone seems to have something on them that ties them to the sea. There are stalls set up to help newcomers (or oldies who just want to have some fun) decorate their hair as well and face paint for those who want to go the extra mile.

The festival comes with all sorts of celebrations that can be partaken in at absolutely no cost. There are food vendors, though they seem to be short on seafood this month. Likely it's due to the rough seas with waves so treacherous that not even the most skilled of sailors seems to be able to get out into them. They'll remark on how difficult is must have been to swim to shore in those awful waves. So instead of fish and shrimp, there are other sea-dedicated dishes: seaweed salad, noodle dishes made with seaweed broth, caramelized chicken in a fish and ginger sauce, etc. There are also ocean themed desserts, such as cupcakes with blue frosting shaped to look like a great wave. There are games such as dunk tanks, dart balloons, ring tosses, and other typical carnival entertainment. If you can think of it, it's probably there. At the end of the night, there's often a fireworks display over the rolling waves.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

rough seas and high winds

WHEN: Last Week of July, First Week of AugustT
WHERE: Beach and Nearby Oceans
CONTENT WARNINGS: Threat of drowning, severe weather phenomena, Environmental hazards, possible death

For some reason, Mariana is particularly wrathful even as the month begins. Even leaking into the end of the month of July, the sea begins to foam and rage in ways that are almost impossible to imagine. As you stare out int the beachheads, you may see vast waves and surf that would daunt the most professional of surfers. Water crashes into each other in colossal spouts. Waterspouts can be seen as storms occasionally buffet the coastline and just out into the ocean itself. However, the one thing about this chaotic energy is that it is just that, chaotic. One moment the sea may be calm, and the next it is a roiling, seething force out to destroy everyone.

This is, naturally, dangerous for those who are just hapless squids trying to reach shore. They may find themselves inexorably being flung towards sharp rocks and shoals, threatened with being dashed upon the stone near to the coast, or they may find themselves constantly swirling in eddies and whirlpools to the point of near exhaustion. However, they are not the only ones so threatened. Even those on the coast are in near constant danger of being washed right back out to see by an unexpected wave and sudden rip-tide. There are wood planks and other detritus to grab hold of, but it is very much a battle for one's life out there!

The sea's rage, the locals say, is because Mariana is particularly incensed over something that occurred. They do not know what exactly, but many have said that sleepers have felt a particular brunt of this ire lately. For now, it is a game of survival and a constant battle to bring people in safely.

Notes:
-Any natural weather occurrence is possible in the first week of August and last of July. Seemingly impossible combinations may occur (A waterspout in the middle of the eye of a hurricane, almost anything.
-These threats will be upon anyone who is not far enough inland to enjoy the festivities. The beach is not truly safe and sleepers are hustled inland quickly.
-Death is possible, though sleepers who die in the ocean find themselves returning very quickly as squids for some reason, within 24 hours, only to be threatened again before they eventually find shore.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

of monsters in the water

WHEN: Throughout August
WHERE: The coast and waterways
CONTENT WARNINGS: Monster Horror, Possibly Getting Eaten, Threat of bodily harm, Unnatural Physiology, Existential Dread

Something has been dredged up from the deep by the storms that rage. It is said that Mariana not only presides over the oceans, but also the most powerful monsters that dwell within the deep. Some of these, it is believed, may be the remains of Pthumerians whose minds and lives were lost during the hard times before, or the spawn of their mating with things other than humans. Whether these rumors are true, eldritch things have begun to emerge from the depths and darkness, things best left unseen.

Throughout the month of August, it is possible to encounter creatures that can only be described as monsters emerging from the water. With every passing storm, another emerges. Some are as large as small kaiju, while others are closer to human size, and each shares very little in common with the others, save for two particular details. The first of these is that they are all aquatic in nature and bear at least a passing similarity to sea monsters of ancient legend or particularly large and dangerous aquatic animals. Giant cuttlefish, Megalodons, Plesiosaurs, Octopi, Sea Cucumbers, Whales, or any of a number of other sea creatures appear to be their basis. The other similarity, however, is that all are hideously and grotesquely deformed. Tentacles, second rows of teeth, great clawed hands and feet enabling them to walk on dry ground, a thousand eyes all over the hump of a hunchback whale all shooting laser beams in the full moon, almost anything seems to be possible, though the changes are all chtonically horrendous in nature.

These creatures are violent, dangerous, and horrifying to behold. Just looking at them jars the mind and threatens to damage one's psyche while they try to understand what they are seeing. Bones are in seemingly impossible angles, bodies moving in ways that they shouldn't. Just looking at them can cause nausea, vertigo or mental breaks, though the danger does not stop there. They are agents of chaos, seeking to destroy mind or body, on a rampage whenever they reach ground, though they do not delve far into Trench beyond the waterways and beach, almost as if they are prevented by something. When one strays too close, an ominous light glows from the tops of the tallest spires in the city and they are inevitably repelled, but until they are killed or sent back to the deep from whence they came, they remain a threat outside of the city.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Observation is a habit Viktor's never been able to shake. Curiosity and the cat, or just the intent dismantling of nearby ships in his head as a child as he tried to logic out how they could function. Perhaps even age old instinct of a boy who couldn't fight and couldn't rely on flight, instead the flimsy guard of recognizing trouble and hiding before it could sniff him out. All of it required rigid observation, one way or the other. Maybe that's why he keeps coming to the sea in the early months, as much to witness the new sleepers as it is to get a hint of what trouble will inevitably follow as the month progressed.

Last month was high tension and revenge giving a hint, this month he can't help but wonder if the instances of bad weather off the coast are an omen of things to come. As if to prove a point about the sea holding the dangers of this month he comes across this particular and baffling scene- a man in the new robes, a creature that grates against Viktor's mind as though trying to slot into a space it isn't designed for. Panic grasps him, animal and rational, the deep shuddering horror of what shouldn't be at the ocean and the understanding of danger, and another in danger.

He's already decided to approach, nearly stumbling with his cane in the uneven sand, when the man's omen comes out. It almost gives Viktor pause, almost, a stuttering confusion at the similarity before he's close enough to hiss, "Come on, this way."

The wind is picking up, and the empty expanse of shore seems too dangerous, too open, but the rocky mess nearby dotted with caverns may be easier to slink to without being noticed.

The intrusion of a new party almost doesn't register, so overloaded is Silco with the two tentacled things, one obtruding one jagged, shredding impossibility into the monkey-meat of his thoughts (nononono) and the other sliding around his body like armour, tentacles encircling his arms.

The words jolt him out of it and he, too, stumbles a moment in the sand, a level of clumsiness that he would usually find unacceptable for another human to see. Rights himself, shoulders tense and face a set mask as he follows his would-be rescuer's advice — follows him physically, in fact, across the dune towards the safety of the beachhead and the tumble of rocks there.

The creature of spreading void hadn't yet noticed him, either of them, but while it has barely developed vision more suited to the depths of the sea, when it ululates suddenly it echolocates, and their moving forms read as prey. Its voice splits the ears, a horrible uncanny sound, and begins to move again.

They barely make it in time; once they're on the rocks the change in the environment and the echo confuses its song-call enough that it can't predict their movement, and it doesn't follow when they hustle into a cave, Silco clambering over a wet-black jagged boulder and then, in silent acknowledgement of both his assistance earlier and his cane, offering Viktor a firm hand to help him do the same.

For the briefest of moments Viktor thinks perhaps they can make a clean break, which isn't a matter he even lets settle before that horrific sound makes him grit his teeth, molars buzzing in a gentle ache.

Still it's enough to stumble into the jutting rocks, through and into the mouth of one of the caves he's never explored for a variety of reasons, self preservation being one of them. Gods knew what lived in the caves of the Trench, and so close to the sea, but it's still a relief to only hear the faintest call of the creature, nearly buried by the wet thump of his cane on slick rock face.

The man he's barely had time to register beyond 'new sleeper' offers a hand and Viktor only regards it a single, hesitant moment before taking it, grateful for the help to get beyond. He stays quiet when they can finally settle, back resting against the damp wall.

"Seems it must be deaf," he murmurs, quiet regardless of the fact of the echolocation, now that he had the chance to assess the encounter. "I suppose being still may work more in our favor than being quiet."

"Seems so." Silco slides down the rock himself, trying to keep his panting to a minimum, unnoticable. He leans over the knee of his one drawn up leg, a little hair flopped to brush over the top of his good eye, brows drawn in as his brain reels trying to make logical sense of what he just saw. His heart is thick in his throat, blood still pounding from the minor summoning.

Speaking of, his new companion has deflated somewhat, floating up and flicking out tentacles to stabilize itself on the wall, keeping itself still as well — and keeping watch. Silco looks up at it, as bewildering as the rest of this and yet somehow ... comforting in a way he would never admit, the way it felt to have Sevika and his goons at his back.

"What was that," he asks, soft but firm, though he isn't certain the other man will even know the answer.

Now Viktor finally has the chance to look at the man properly, maybe more so register what seems a faint glow from his one damaged eye. Or at least he assumes its damage, with the scars around it, but for all he knows this man is from a world of demons and creatures. Maybe he's one of them. The octopus- omen- is curious though not particularly odd.

"No idea. Not a beast, I don't believe. I've never seen a beast with such eh... effects, if so." The intense level of sway it had on the mind, for example. No, probably not a beast proper. That was worrying, though hopefully temporary. "Sometimes the new month brings oddities along with new sleepers. That would be my best guess."

A stormy wind whistles through the cave so sharply he freezes, half expecting it a sound of the creature. But no, it only brings a chill, and with a soft sigh he finds a rock to sit upon, cane resting against his temple as he holds it to his side.

Silco is too new to really grasp a lot of that; but he files it away in his mind, allows what he does know to shed light on other pieces of infornation he's accumulated, words he's picked up: Sleeper, Beast.

A better man would think about where the creature might go if it can't find them, might suggest hiding too selfish an option. Silco is not that man.

"Seems a little unfair that, given a beast of my own, there is such a discrepancy in size and power," he remarks. To Viktor, of course, but the octopus manages to look offended even with no visible face, curling its tentacles in mild offense, and swelling up its head as it to promise it could grow just as large as the creature they fought. Silco is charmed despite himself, inclined to look fondly on the little thing that was once a part of himself, and the corner of his small mouth twitches is what's almost a smile, or passes for one on him. "Come now, you know what I mean."

That comment has Viktor snorting, amused as his eyes go to the omen again. He doesn't give much thought to the symbolism of omens, too tiring a concept in a place that consistently invades the privacy of their thoughts and memories. The coincidence of the situation is, at least, safe to consider.

"The price for not being quite literally painful to observe, I'm afraid," he offers. Briefly considers calling Rio too, mostly for the cave she would no doubt enjoy the familiar surrounding off. Her skittering around could be trouble, so he leaves it be. "You're new, yes? The robes give it away. Quite a welcome, if so."

That gets a small huff of air through the nose, Silco's brow twitching. "Quite," he agrees, deeply sardonic. "Someone told me people find things that belong to them on the beaches, and I decided to have a look for myself. Instead, well, you saw the result." Displeasing, to say the least. He'll have to beach comb later, make do for now with what he received in the satchel he was initially given.

"Sometimes, yes. There are tunnels under parts of the city as well that have the same on occasion, though they are just as dangerous." A shrug with that. Given he found a Hexgem there it was worth the risk, he thinks. Maybe if only to make sure no one else found it first. He may be just a little paranoid about that after the break in back home.

(After Vi's vague talk of a weapon made out of it back home.)

"I'm Viktor," he finally thinks to offer, though not particularly concerned with the lack of decorum and niceties. "Since I fear we may be here for a time. Unless we call a hunter who can handle that creature to perform a valiant rescue, that is."

Viktor is a relatively common name, so Viktor doesn't immediately make the connection to the class traitor protege that Singed would sometimes speak of. "Silco," says Silco.

He doesn't really like the idea of having to call for help, especially if the Hunter who shows up is Vi again — he's had enough of being helped and rescued for one day. "It may have already left. It moved quite swiftly," he points out, but doesn't immediately move.

Silco is a far less common name, certainly enough to give immediate pause. The time Vi was here before she was nothing but wrathful against the man, though she offered very little in the way of explanation, and he knows enough that the Silco of his world was a dangerous man in the undercity.

Always a touch odd to him, if he's honest. Silco the revolutionary was dangerous, of course, in what little he heard as a boy, but in the way trenchers spoke of smugly rather than careful, quiet.

He considers his options for a moment before the somewhat blunt approach is what he decides upon. "You wouldn't happen to be from the undercity, would you?" Much more interested in this than discussing their options, at least for now.

Silco stays casual, limbs relaxed, but his octopus goes still and wary, shifts to the colour of the cave wall like it doesn't want to be seen. "Hm? In my last life, yes, I lived in an undercity. Now they tell me I can live wherever I like, so it seems I'll be out under the sky." A glance through the dim cave, measuring the response to that. He knows Vi is here, who else might be?

A measured response, about what Viktor expected. It's funny to him how different his meetings with those from his own world were, all from the undercity. The first time Vi came and they circled carefully around each other, threats offered like jokes but meant more to be reminders. Jinx, though he never knew her name while she was here, and her far more overt threats. The way she sneered the word Zaun to him like he had little claim to it, which he supposes he doesn't and never really did.

Vi now, who was still careful until the Trench forced a level of vulnerability that broke that ice. Silco is just as familiar in all the same ways, like an old ache. Viktor watches him and falls back to those habits so easily, keeping his expression placid, only a sharp, careful curiosity in his gaze giving him away.

"It takes some getting used to, the open air," he settles on after a moment. "To be perfectly honest with you I don't particularly enjoy eh... beating around the bush, is what they say? I think I know who you are. If I'm right they called you a revolutionary, when I was a boy. You and Vander."

Silco's fingers curl tight enough his nails press into his palms, and he exhales. "Vander and I," he drawls, sounding almost amused at some personal joke, even as the name in his mouth is hateful, bittersweet. For as much as he tells himself that vengeance helped him heal that old wound, it didn't. Maybe nothing ever will.

"And what did they call me once you became a man, I wonder?" he asks with a tight smile. No illusions about the unrest of his people, the ones who wanted peace or had lost someone to the drugs, the people that the chem barons trod underfoot — an unfortunately necessary hierarchy to achieve his goals. "Not that it matters. We've both found rebirth on these shores."

"In truth? I assumed you were dead for a time," Viktor settles on answering. It wasn't something he was told or even thought of long, in truth, but what happened at the bridge was only ever told in hushed tones of dramatic violence. In Piltover at least, where all the gossip and blame was, unsurprisingly, pinned on violent, criminal undercity element that downed so many brave enforcers. Plenty of memorial elements for months to honor the latter.

Viktor could of course read between the lines of where the true casualties lie, make assumptions from there. "It matters, I'm afraid. Not on matters of moral standing and grudges, though perhaps for some. I mean in this place's tendency to drag up the past and force us to confront, again and again. Secrets are not particularly sacred here."

"I have no secrets," Silco lies airily, as at ease leaning against the damp rock of the sea cave as he would be in his own parlour or the old chair in his little office.

"No, it seems you're simply not of Zaun — surprising, I would have pegged that accent as one of the upper lanes. Piltover, then?" Since everybody in the undercity knew whose name to whisper in fear and thanks. Those who swim alongside the sea creatures respect them, even if Piltover was oblivious to what lurked in the depths.

Viktor can't help it, he snorts at that like it's a joke. He makes no comment at least, feels a familiar unease that he could laugh at. Deeply ingrained both topside and under to recognize people best handled carefully, despite the fact they're both damned squids hiding from a creature that hurts to look at in a damp cave.

"Near Emberlift Alley," he confirms instead. "I was accepted into the Academy as a young man and moved there after. Half a life in both." His eyes settle on the octopus, wondering idly what its name was rather than carefully watching any reaction to that. "I did hear you lived later. Piltover calls you the industrialist, the undercity is more... hushed."

"Then you're Singed's boy," Silco says, matching those details to stories Singed had shared of his former apprentice, mildly surprised that he really is that Viktor, of all the Viktors for there to be here.

The octopus is still very still, a camouflaged predator-prey resting and waiting, not as relaxed as Silco would like to pretend. But a touch more relaxed than it first was, perhaps that mutual acquaintance, or the fact that he is a Zaunite after all (there is, in Silco's mind, no in-between, no halfway point, just people of one city living in the other, present but never accepted.) "The genius scientist." Flattery, just slightly.

That startles Viktor properly, his eyebrows raising before he can try to school his expression. Stupid to be surprised, he guessed Singed must be involved in the creation of shimmer, given what he knew of the man and his visit down. He was fairly certain Rio was used in the creation of shimmer, but it was a fact not worth dwelling on for long. Of course he'd know Silco, who Vi did say was the one to spread it.

In truth he thinks he's more surprised Singed spoke of him at all. It makes him uneasy, as most things regarding Singed and their mixed relationship do.

"... he was my mentor for a time." A fact he refused to even mention to Jayce in the vaguest of passing. Colleagues. Impersonal. "I don't suppose you know what happened to him then. I saw him again recently, the eh... the new nickname is alarmingly fitting." A good question to buffer, because frankly he's a little surprised (and suspicious) of not getting a similar treatment Jinx offered at admitting his move to Piltover.

As he likely should be. Jinx doesn't like to play games, and her worldview tends to be black and white, but her fierce nationalism she got entirely from her father. It helps, of course, that Singed had spoken of the boy, that Silco knows him through his underworld of connections rather than encountering him as a topsider.

There is a part of him that thinks, as important as that distinction was, isn't it irrelevant here? He is still close enough to that life that it feels valuable, but he takes the waters of rebirth seriously, just as he trusts the feeling of connection in knowing each of them crawled up that beach as the same creatures, share now the same blood in their veins.

"I'm afraid he was caught in an explosion. I was only barely shielded from the blast myself. Others died." He doesn't have it in them to feel sorry about it, when that very explosion had given him his daughter. But he isn't going to give away his weaknesses by talking about Jinx to someone he just met.

Viktor's lips thin and he knows better than to pester with questions about that. "And for all his genius he's using dirty bandages and willpower to handle the lingering effects of the injuries," he sighs, unable to keep his tone from giving away some level of genuine concern along with the vague exasperation. "How like him."

He resists the urge to run a hand over his face, just letting his fingers curl tighter around his cane. Also takes a moment to wonder about Silco's eye, now that he knows it isn't from some other odd world. Mutation, he'd guess. Happens, in the undercity.

"Funnily enough, there aren't a lot of sterile medical items to be found where he lives," Silco points out seemingly carelessly. "He's fine. If there's one thing that man knows, it's how to keep himself alive."

"Yet he has everything he needs to make chems no doubt provided to him," Viktor can't help but instantly return with. In some ways it's rather freeing not to feel he immediately has to bite his tongue and duck his head. "But yes, I suppose he does. He's always cared more about his vision than himself or others."

Especially others.

It's refreshing not being kowtowed to — Piltover taught him arrogance, no doubt. Or perhaps he was simply like that. Singed had never feared Silco either, and not just because he was at the man's mercy when it came to Shimmer, not just because Silco had been weak and injured in front of him, but simply a blinkered lack of imagination, lack of social mores, refusal to obedience— traits which Silco had killed over but respected in his allies.

The octopus detaches itself from the wall and, deciding they were doing well enough on their own, floats out to investigate the cave, swimming through the air like it's water, always moving to keep itself subtle and concealed, a prey animal as much as it is a predator. The delicate balance of something in between on the food chain. It's decided to investigate and see if the threat is gone, though it doesn't communicate as much to Silco, simply acting independently. Silco watches it go with bemusement, says nothing. Uses his fingers to comb his hair back into place.

"Funny, that this was supposed to be a new life, and yet two of the first people I meet here are those who knew me — or knew my city, at least. Tell me, is this a common coincidence or have we been granted some special blessing."

Viktor watches it, idly wonders if this meant Silco might recognize his own omen, though in a far different state than the health she has here. Silco not snapping back is what he can only hope is a good thing. More than a few people used to power before this place begrudged the loss, though he supposes those are people like the ones in Piltover, expectant when it came to power. Not the undercity, that didn't hand over anything without a fight.

A pause then, "Ah, you met her then." Good to know. "I've been here for almost six months, and most of them I've been the only person even from a version of Runeterra, let alone the same part of the same city. If there are people from your world they usually seem to be ones you know or have some level of connection with."

July Test Drive Meme!

iii

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)