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Deer Country Mod ([personal profile] reddosmod) wrote in [community profile] countryclub2022-09-25 09:57 pm
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SEPTEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME!

SEPTEMBER 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: Bread Cornucopia filled with fruits and veggies]
[Image Two: Creepy glass eye embedded in sand]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A Lone Lighthouse by night]
[Image Two: Ghost Ship in dilapidated condition]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Wasps, Wasp Nest made from human Mask screaming terror, swirling eddies in wasp Nest]
[Image Two: Horribly mutilated Cenobite in Latex gear with exposed teeth]

STANDARD ARRIVAL
WHEN: First Week of September
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk, Koz's Orphanage
CONTENT WARNINGS: Creepy Prosthetics buried in the sand


On some level, you are one of the fortunate ones. The storms of August are now a distant memory. It is the waning of the Blood Moon and the tempestuous state of the Beast Moon this year is fading finally while the harvest is being collected. Sleepers arriving find no particular difficulty in actually reaching the shores for the most part, and transformations back into their natural state of being are relatively easy. They are met by happy Trenchies and fellow Sleepers with robes of white and their bags as normal, and motioned towards the waiting tents set up along the

What is strange, however, is that when Sleepers arrive, they may find their eyes drawn to something disturbing amongst the sand. Water washes with the waves and tide, and reveals a body part! They are always prosthetics of some variety, and many are glass eyes that eerily stare at the person. They can be retrieved with some ease, though they're in bad need of cleaning. Perhaps they belong to someone in town? If not, however, asking around will get a suggestion to bring those to Koz's Orphange in Crenshaw. They have a Lost and Found there, and it is the season of finding what and who is lost. If they do, they might catch a glimpse of Koz floating mournfully through the area, and one of the children will gratefully take the item, saying that they will add it to the rest of the Lost and Found, before coming back with a photo in hand. "Here, I found this, and I think it might be yours?" The photo is, indeed, of the giver and someone from their past. Perhaps it is an actual photo taken, or one they cannot remember having been taken. Regardless, it is offered to them in a cheap wooden frame. How it got there, the orphan does not know. It was probably there when they arrived.

SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK

The Boardwalk is quite the spectacle this time of year, and those who were here the prior year will remember many of the decorations and festivities. Pumpkins have been stacked on spikes lining the Boardwalk with grotesquely realistic carvings of faces decorated on them. Massive white linen has been hung in the air to look like ghosts floating back and forth against the ocean wind.

Delicious smells waft from the Boardwalk as fresh donuts, candied apples, and hot apple cider are sold at every other booth, along with complementary cornucopias given to each new Sleeper made out of bread that has fruits of all varieties but always seems to have a small jar of the favorite fruit, seed, vegetable (or even meat) of the person receiving it. If asked where it is from, the Sleepers shrug and say "The Orphans took up a collection to give a welcoming gift to new arrivals." If what is in the jar is eaten by the person given it, it will help to ease their mind and give them a calm that can last up to a week as they acclimate.

Preparations are in order for this year's Black Parade. An annual celebration, it is promoted among the excited locals as something that people can participate in. Face Painting booths and costumes are available to those who wish them, with the statement by the Trenchies, "We do it to disguise ourselves from roaming spirits and hungry beasts."
A FADED MEMORY
WHEN: Mid October
WHERE: In Swimming distance (Barely) of the Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Ghostly Ship & Lighthouse, Threat of Corruption, Remains of Ghastly Murder and Dismembered Corpse


It is by accident that your eyes chance to look towards the Farther Shores. There, you happen to see a lighthouse, but you know for certain that it cannot be the lighthouse that is normally there and manned by the fishermen. You can't usually see that from this angle. The moment that you see it, a feeling of mounting dread falls upon you, and you realize that there is no light in the lighthouse. Though the compulsion to investigate can be resisted, there is an almost overwhelming urge to go, to investigate, to re-ignite the flame before it is too late!

The question is getting out there. The fishermen, when the lighthouse is mentioned, will make warding gestures and look terrified. All will resolutely refuse to sail out, muttering incomprehensible curses and lashing their boats securely to the shore. There will be no fishing tonight. The lighthouse, from the docks and shores, is out in the water on a rocky outcrop that nobody remembers being there, though any Trenchy asked will pale at the mention. The only way to get out there is to swim. It is a hard, dangerous swim, but the tide is coming in, rather than going out, so the riptide is not pulling down. It can be done, or a raft can be hastily made. When clambering up the stone steps to the lone lighthouse, it is apparent its door is ajar. And within? Horror awaits.

The insides of the tower are caked in viscuous, green blood. The Lighthouse itself is barely standing. It looks as if a thunderous, colossal fist has battered it repeatedly, the building nearly collapsing at every step. It does not actually break apart, but those who ascend the steps find themselves fighting not to slip on old, caked and thick blood that smells of roses. The contact with the blood isn't doing anything good to the person's sanity and hallucinations of the screams of the dying can be heard, along with shrieks of "What is it?" at the top of someone's voice. An increase in corruption is possible here, though not required. The more one contacts the blood, the greater the risk is. In the top of the lighthouse, dismembered, skeletal remains lay in gobs of what may once have been flesh. One of them holds desperately a torch in their hand, and there is a lighter present. One look out into the night will see a great vessel approaching, broken, its sails tattered and ruined. there is little time, and hopefully the lighter works!

The moment the torch lights the lamp in the lighthouse, the ship veers away from a collision course that would have destroyed the lighthouse and likely the flimsy rock outcropping on which it stood. Shades of dead sailors stare in horror at those who man the lighthouse today, the ship sailing away into the night. All are pointing beyond, and if you look over your shoulder, you can barely see a collosal figure in shadow walking into the town beyond, seemingly confused and wailing. Nothing further happens, and when the people in the lighthouse reach shore again, they will find upon turning back that it is gone, as is the outcropping, though a close inspection does see the remains of a shallow of stone there where the island once stood.

Note: The Ghost ship cannot be interacted with. If someone has the ability to reach it, they will pass through it only to realize it is nothing more than a memory in the land. Fragments of rotted wood and broken masonry can be found in the water below, covered in countless barnacles. Nothing within them shows any proof of what once transpired. There is a risk of corruption from blood exposure, though this is very much up to the players if they wish to incorporate it.

No Trenchy will willingly speak of what transpired, though a careful investigation at the Pale Sanctuary may find a tome among the sacred texts associated with Cloverfield. Reading from it, one might find a forgotten marking that the first sighting of Cloverfield, long ago, saw the collapse of the original lighthouse. No Disciple recalls the incident, and none will speak of it.

FRIEND OR FOE
WHEN: Anytime in October
WHERE: At the frindges of the main districts
CONTENT WARNINGS: demonic bugs, Bug Horror, Grotesque death, Self mutilation, Bug Infestation


The first thing that alerts you to the danger is the screams. They are agonizing, gut-wrenching and full of naked horror. When traveling near the edge of any of the districts, particularly the Crenshaw district, it is possible at times to witness a truly horrifying sight. The screams, if investigated, come upon the grisly attack of a horde of not exactly wasps but closer to demonic insects swarming over a person. They shriek, their whole form shrouded by the terrible creatures as they're being stun and the things seem to be extruding some sort of substance to cocoon them while still alive to one of the trees. There is no cry for help, as the person is clearly unaware of who is there, but do you reach out to save them?

If you do not, the scene is horrific and grisly beyond reckoning. The wasps trap the hapless victim against a tree, grafting the extruded paper all over their screaming visage to form a new wasp nest before they ultimately begin crawling inside of them, devouring them from the inside out and implanting their eggs in the new 'home' created for them. It is at this time that the palpable danger may dawn upon you. The infernal bugs have not yet seen you, but they seem to be aware that there is other life around. Do you take this moment to try and beat a hasty retreat, or do you fight it out with the bugs? They can be destroyed, but only by means of abilities and powers that destroy multiples at once, such as great gouts of flame. Hopefully you have a coldblood present! Fleeing them is easier, but can you leave this person to their fate? Still, if instead you observe and take no action, eventually the bugs seem to notice you, and though they swarm near, as long as they are not attacked, they seem to do nothing.

Strange.

If, however, you try to save the victim, a very different scene plays out. The same rules apply to fight the swarm, and if you stop them short of killing their victim, you will see just who it is that you have saved. There, mutilated through self scarification and brutally altered in horrible ways that seem almost fetishistic, is one of the blood crazed zealots. Despite being weakened and badly injured, they lash out at you, their defender. The power that they wield with their blood is incredible, and they demonstrate an ability to wield it that is well documented. The only note is that no Cold-blooded Zealots are present, and so their powers are not represented this time. However, they are drained and though they pose a threat to your life, they can be killed here with a bit of care, can be resisted with great difficulty and certainly be escaped. Either way, there is no true reward for having killed them other than knowing that you have done so. Why are they here? Alone?

It is almost as if they were an advance scout, and the wasps were someone's defense against them, someone's early warning.

CODING
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (06)

cw: blood, gore, dysfunctional relationships, reference to cannibalism, violation of bodily autonomy

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-09-27 04:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The full swell of Mercy's lower lip pops against those awful, too-perfect teeth, splitting the arc of her inferior labial artery that swoops flirtatiously into the intramuscular layer. Sweetness coats her tongue as she laps at the mouth like a dog - licks herself into her, stroke by stroke, with all the ardency of her ruined heart. She keens horribly when the face turns away and the hand is taken with it, swoons helplessly against the iron column of her beloathed.

She is as wrecked as the doomed ship sailing always towards them, washed up against the unforgiving shoreline of the end of the world. She trembles there, hiding her face in the unloving breast of the beast, as the cavity cored in her strings red-wet, plumps flush with remembered living tissue.

Her mind remembers itself less quickly, all shattered shimmering glass on the rocks. She takes a swift, sucking breath, when she has lungs and airway for it, and her hands ball into fists as she levers herself back from the thing, stumbling like a new-calved animal. ]


What I wanted. [ The words are wrenched dripping out of deep waters. ] No. No. Not what I wanted - what I want.

[ This is an important thing. This is the most important thing, in the whole vast universe, if she can only remember it. ]

You knew. You knew what he had done - you were the very proof of it - and I have asked myself, why did it not speak? But you so rarely ever understood anything, you poor idiot, you insensible horror - you never apprehended the process - [ she jerks her head, no a shivering tumble of her own awful pale hair ] - but you knew, when it was done - when we had done it -

[ She looks up at John's darling Annabel Lee, the flabby light trickled into the tower catching the reddish, brownish hurricane swirl of the eyes set in her face at last, the veil of hateful tears drawn across them. ]

Why didn't you tell us what you were?
miyagimagic: (130)

[personal profile] miyagimagic 2022-09-27 04:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The reaction on the other's end is both unsurprising and unnerving at the same time. Daniel has seen this expression on the other's face around him before, after all. It's like a snake spotting a mouse - like Terry would swallow him whole, given the chance.

Daniel isn't planning on letting him. His face doesn't do as much as twitch (for now, anyway), no matter how much effort it takes to keep it in the exact same position as he stands there, forced to look up at the other. ]


Newcomers. [ The venom in the way he nearly spits out that word is clear as day though, followed up by a shake of the man's head. ] You and I both know you're more like one of the monsters that occasionally crawls out of the sea here.

[ No, even worse. At least those monsters don't play mind games. ]

I'm just here to tell you that you better not be thinking of messing with people in this place. Just go quietly back into.. retirement, or whatever the hell you were doing with your life. [ Especially when shoving Terry back into the sea and being rid of him truly just isn't an option.

If only. ]
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (Default)

iii. cw: gore, body horror

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-09-27 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The Saint of Woe, whilom Joy, whilom Mercymorn the First, glances irritably, as she is wont to glance, at her darling baby sister-Saint. The affect is somewhat spoiled by lank, bruised peach hair strung across her muddled eyes, but the intent is there all the same.

She toes the edge of the fat-hulled, ribbed wave-skimmer of a vessel she spun out of her left hip, bloodless and flexible, with a foot shod in a slipper made after the fashion of some woollen creature turned inside out and tanned to pearly softness. ]


Charming.

[ Not!! ]
necrosaint: (082)

iv. text, un: boneadept

[personal profile] necrosaint 2022-09-27 05:39 pm (UTC)(link)
yes, often. sounds very normal.
necroprince: (tumblr_9114123538d67be64075589da074ffd1_)

[personal profile] necroprince 2022-09-27 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[She eyes Mercymorn, grimaces. She's not sure how to feel about the woman after the things she did, and while she can't say she was happy to see her die in such a brutal and humiliating way - although she never liked her either and the woman had tried to destroy her whole planet so she wasn't too sad - most of the feelings remaining are the simmering resentment of being left in the aftermath of the other saints and all their mistakes.

Prince Ianthe Naberius, The Emperor's whipping girl. Yeah. The idea that now Joy is jumping to rescue some stupid fishermen is almost too absurd for words. After what she was willing to sacrifice why in all the Nine Houses would she care about this place.]


I see you're no longer a puddle of gore and stains. More's the pity.

Have you been here long, Joy?
necroprince: (naomistares 2)

[personal profile] necroprince 2022-09-27 07:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Perfect! Very efficient work. We'll be rid of all the uglies by the next generation. I'll have to see about summoning wasps that wipe out all the sixes as well.

[Fucking Palamedes Sextus.]
hacktivated: + ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴠᴇ (ᴛʜᴇ face of a friend)

( 1 )

[personal profile] hacktivated 2022-09-27 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The tall, blond woman turns and makes her very odd proclamation. Penny's response is a startled blink, followed a moment later by a friendly if slightly confused smile. ]

That's right! I'm getting some for my friend.

[ Penny has no appetite, let alone one that can be bought or sold. The real question is: ]

How could you tell?

[ This isn't the first time Penny has successfully identified Penny as a robot, but it's probably the fastest. ]

(ooc: happy to have john tag in if you've both got the bandwidth for a three way thread!)
dynatox: (terry // 012)

[personal profile] dynatox 2022-09-27 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)
I'll have to think about that, but I'd like to see the facilities nonetheless.

[ He doesn't think he's too old to teach or anything like that, though that'll be his excuse if he opts not to. He just has to make sure he only takes students who are fully on board with Cobra Kai and his own personal philosophies this time. If they are none, then he won't bother. ]

And I'd like to see your techniques, too. I'm sure Sensei Lawrence has come up with something interesting.

[ Not good, not bad, just interesting. ]
dynatox: (terry // 026)

[personal profile] dynatox 2022-09-27 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Our claws, Mr. Lawrence? You're so dramatic, you should've gone into acting. [ He'll call Johnny 'sensei' around his students, but not one on one. Terry doesn't respect him or his methods enough for that. ] We teach kids to be champions. To survive. I'm sorry if you're not cut out for that anymore.

[ Terry doesn't back away from the approach, and in fact moves to close the distance between them so he's looming over Johnny. He knows his height is his most striking feature, and he's more than happy to leverage it and make his opponent feel small. ]

Or maybe you never were. [ He squares up, ready to fight. ] Are you sure you want to follow through on that threat?
dynatox: (terry // 068)

[personal profile] dynatox 2022-09-27 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Danny, Danny. [ He shakes his head. ] What power do you think you hold over me?

[ He doesn't know how much Daniel remembers, and he can't flat-out ask it because that would make his gambit too obvious, but he's hoping his little trip home put him far enough ahead that no one can call his bluff.

And if he's wrong, well, there are other ways to deal with annoyances. ]


After everything that's happened, I thought you'd know well enough to leave me alone.
dynatox: (terry // 105)

[personal profile] dynatox 2022-09-27 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)
I've got that feeling, too.

[ He looks down at his bleeding tattoo again. He could've sworn he had it removed, but it's here now, so perhaps that was all just a terrible dream where he resented John so much he removed all traces of their time together.

Or maybe there is something wrong. Who knows. The blood is still making his head spin, but he's well enough to apply the bandage himself before following her up the stairs. ]


That's quite the trick. When did you learn that? [ He hasn't thought about the different blood types and their abilities for a while. ]
dynatox: (terry // 016)

[personal profile] dynatox 2022-09-27 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Good. That's good.

[ He seems assured enough that it's not his blood that he can keep moving forward up the stairs. ]

I've been gone for a while. I forgot how tricky this place could be.
strikefirster: (CK_S4_E5_0530)

[personal profile] strikefirster 2022-09-27 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah. Your greasy. Stinkin'. Claws.

[Johnny punctuates each word. Partially because his vocabulary is a little limited, but he also wants to Terry know how little respect he has for him now that he's more aware of his connections with Kreese. (Even if Johnny is actually more than a few steps off base on what that relationship actually is and means than he might sound.)

Johnny doesn't waver when he sees Terry standing up to rise to the challenge. His hands clench into fists. He thinks he's ready for this fight. And his frustration only grows as the old man runs his mouth.]


You teach kids to fight dirty, to use them. You taught them to be like me.

[Is he actually talking to Terry right now? Or is he projecting all this shit he has bottled up from Kreese onto Terry instead? It's more likely that as honestly despite the few things that Johnny knew about Terry, it was his connection to Kreese that he hated the most. That's what he really wanted to wreck right now. That's who he really wanted to beat.]

I'm going to do more than that-

[And Johnny does. Or at least he tries to. Despite Terry's looming height- despite all logic, Johnny goes in to strike first with a punch aimed squarely at Terry's chest. If Terry were a different, shorter Cobra Kai Sensei, it would have been aimed squarely at his nose.]
earthworms: (Default)

[personal profile] earthworms 2022-09-27 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
I...

[She's thinks on this. Camilla and Pyrrha were always so concerned about her getting lost. That's why they dropped her off and picked her up from everywhere.]

I don't know. Can you be lost if you're not going anywhere?
hacktivated: ? ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛғᴜʟ (ᴀʀᴇ likely to come true)

iii.

[personal profile] hacktivated 2022-09-27 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ By now, Penny has learned that wading out into the sea is a recipe for trouble - but when Nona makes her comment, all Penny can think is that she's complete right. They need to be out there.

But, perhaps Penny can save them a bit of trouble and time.
]

Do you get airsick? I can probably carry you over there.
broodofone: (Default)

[personal profile] broodofone 2022-09-28 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
Abathur's maw gapes open to taste the air, his attention briefly drawn to the human. It smells odd. The source appears to be a strange biological residue. Old. Poor sample quality. Lower priority. But information can be gathered for later.

"Unknown biological residue detected," his mouth vibrates, producing a deep, emotionless facsimile of a human voice. "State source."
necrosaint: (006)

[personal profile] necrosaint 2022-09-28 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
I do hate to break it to you, but they're not likely to be discriminating based on external appearance measures by human standards. Or at all, since that is likely not a metric that Trench's beasts employ.

Though I am now becoming tempted to look that up.
dynatox: (terry // 123)

[personal profile] dynatox 2022-09-28 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
There's no such thing as dirty. Not in a real fight.

[ Even Terry can't pitch a high school karate tournament as a matter of life and death, but he can say the skills they learn might save their lives one day. ]

And I'd never teach my students to be like you. I want them to be winners. [ He deflects the punch with one hand and, speaking of dirty tricks, goes for a swift jab to the throat with the other. If a man can't breathe, he can't fight. ]
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (02)

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-09-28 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
[ Mercy curls her lip in disdain, but Ianthe is one of the few souls who has spent enough time around Mercy without the flattering aura of sainthood between them. Or, more to the point, Ianthe has seen Mercy around Augustine, and between the two factors she will be better able than almost anyone living to tell: Mercy's heart simply isn't in it.

Mercy has no doubt Ianthe marks the irony. Ianthe always marks the irony. It's one of her most tedious and Augustine-esque traits, and no small part of why the Saint of Patience took such a shine to his chick. ]


Much longer than I care for. [ She rocks her little craft with her foot. ] And it's Woe, if you please.

[ She does not expect it to please Ianthe, who will find that as drolly humorous as she seems to affect finding everything under Dominicus. She expects Ianthe to comply, which even Augustine's puling brat ought to be able to do. ]

You're freshly spat out, then?
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (03)

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-09-28 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ That is a tough one. Cristabel thinks on it as she hovers a bit closer to the candied apple, bobbing in the air like a balloon fit for a mouse. ]

Yes.

[ It feels right, but in an awfully wrong way. Cristabel doesn't like it. It makes her all buzzy and fitful, and it makes her worry. ]

Is that what you are? [ The person has nice eyes, like the girl from the beach. ] Lost, and not going anywhere?
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (03)

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-09-28 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
The human only blinks the once. She half-pivots to the insectile speaker, keeping the hive within her field of vision as it continues its grisly work, and considers the question.

"Vileblood," she says, her own voice high and clear, barely colored with more feeling than the beast's own, "A poisonous blood type indigenous to this planet. My own, from an injury."
broodofone: (Weave sequences)

[personal profile] broodofone 2022-09-28 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ooc: that embarrassing moment when you've been posting on one non-human journal all day, then switch over to Abathur and totally space on the fact that StarCraft calls humans terrans]

"Vileblood unclear. Elaborate." He has never heard of such a mutation. Perhaps a useful one. But terrans are poorly structured organisms. Inefficient. Even their psionic potential was not sufficient to warrant further integration into the Swarm.

Without the Evolution Pit, his resources are limited. He will require more information before he bothers to spend time on further analysis.
acidjail: rights to use paid by me; do not take (02)

[personal profile] acidjail 2022-09-28 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ooc: I forgot the word for the inside of a bone, once, don't sweat it.]

That draws a ripple of feeling out of her, a flash of frustration screwing up her delicate but stark features. It's the sort of thing she guesses will be lost on whatever this thing is - and it isn't as though she can read what might, for all she knows, be a matching look on the bit of it that passes for a face, if it even might be said to have one.

"Isn't that the question of the hour," she says, darkly, "It is, allegedly, one of the five blood types of those of us so lucky as to be pupped from squid - although I very much doubt that those muttering hacks at the so-called centers of blood ministry have even the slightest idea of how to classify anything properly. And what is it to you, exactly?"

She gives the polite monstrosity another skeptical once over. The hive is rustling with newspun paper as it plasters the Zealot to their final resting place against a tree.

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