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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
sanguinarydelight: (Elegant)

[personal profile] sanguinarydelight 2022-10-03 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
"Gone," she finishes for him with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just as everyone's who came here. None of us are dressed to impress."

It's some attempt at reassurance; the little man looked so pitiable, it moved her enough to something approximating sympathy.

"That will change of course," she mutters, more to herself than to Jin, once more scouring the shore. There was some faint hope that if she had survived, then perhaps...

...Perhaps.

Not finding any sign of her daughters, her hawk-like gaze returns to the young man fussing with his robe.

"Do you have any recollection before coming here?"
poorlittlesange: (side-eye)

[personal profile] poorlittlesange 2022-10-03 03:35 am (UTC)(link)
That he is in a state of undress comparable to everyone else on the beach is immaterial; the standard against which he has been measured (and found wanting) has always stood higher than even the most mediocre of his legitimate relatives or their peers. It takes conscious effort for him to remind himself that they are not here. More than that, most of them are dead.

At her inquiry, he nods once and tries to summon up his signature neutral smile again, with limited success. (Maybe once he finds a set of robes with actual pants.) "I recall--some things," he hedges, his brow dipped into a small furrow, "but not all." A temple, a golden statue, an empty coffin. A closed fist. A sword through his heart. He remembers enough.

He shutters those thoughts away behind opaque glass in his mind. To Alcina, he dips his head respectfully and lowers his eyes. "This lowly one begs your forgiveness for his poor manners. I am called Jin Guangyao." After only a brief pause to adjust his smile, he adds, "Ayi is self-assured and brave in the face of such strange circumstances as these. I worry I am inflicting great offence upon you, for I do not know how to address you."
sanguinarydelight: (Big mistake)

[personal profile] sanguinarydelight 2022-10-03 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Not that she didn't appreciate the deference; it was, after all, her due as one of the four lords. But nothing quite grated on the nerves like empty flattery when all you want is some damn answers.

And a drink.


...And maybe a cigarette. That would be nice.

"Lady Dimitrescu," she answers, as though it were obvious. "And mind not laying it on so thick; no one likes a sycophant."
poorlittlesange: (awake and alarmed)

[personal profile] poorlittlesange 2022-10-04 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
Well that is certainly not true. Jin Guangyao's father loves sycophants. He holds court before a simpering, oily flock of them daily.

Still, he's miscalculated--he hates miscalculating--but manages not to let the sudden, violent flash of outrage at his mistake manifest itself on his face. Perhaps a different approach, if he can only avoid rousing her ire further; he avoids offering up an explicit apology and instead only dips his head once in acknowledgement. "Lady Dimitrescu," he repeats politely, "perhaps--"

But whatever else he intends to say is cut short abruptly as a convenient plot device a pair of Wakers approach them both where they stand on the shore. One of the Wakers, cheerily apologizing for the delay, foists a parcel off into Jin Guanyao's arms, which is how he finds himself suddenly in possession of a curious bag composed of exquisite, golden silk brocade.
sanguinarydelight: (Let's have a look)

[personal profile] sanguinarydelight 2022-10-04 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Alcina has many faults (and atrocities) attributed to her name, but at least isn't Jin's father. It's evidence that things could always, always be worse.

When the Wakers approach, her own bag is thrust into her hands. Alcina is about to demand an explanation, but they're already gone, off to help the other poor washed up souls.

Her lips purse in disapproval, but she decides to see just what's been given her.

The bag itself is innocuous enough; a fancy black silk clutch with pale gold embroidery depicting the crest of house Demitrescu. With an irritated huff (there only seems to be more questions than answers), she flips it open to find it contains her preferred cosmetics, her silver cigarette case, lighter, and...

Her jaw tightens as she gently removes the broach of three black roses, staring at it with the sort of blank expression of someone doing their damnedest to maintain their composure.

Wordlessly, she pins it to her robe right over her heart.

"What were you saying, young man?" she asks sharply, closing the clutch. "Before they showed up bearing yet more mysteries."
poorlittlesange: (et tu er-ge? :C)

[personal profile] poorlittlesange 2022-10-06 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
They are both, for the moment, occupied with inspecting the parcels that have been gifted, and Jin Guangyao is nothing if not thoroughly observant. The silk brocade, for example, is less exquisite upon closer inspection than he'd initially guessed, as though this bag has journeyed a great distance just to end up in his hands. He absently strokes his thumb across the surface of a starkly white embroidered peony before he realizes what is under his touch, and blanches.

The contents of the bag themselves are all familiar to him, with the exception of the gold robe--which he quickly fishes out and drapes around himself--but what arrests him completely is the jade pass token. A number of different expressions flicker across his face in swift succession, each one somehow just as fraught with anguish while defying description as the last. He holds the little thing in his hand only for a moment before dropping it back into the silk bag and composing himself. The shadow of the most inoffensive, mildest of smiles is back at the corners of his mouth.

"It is of no importance, Lady Dimitrescu," he replies without meeting her eyes again. Instead he gestures towards the boardwalk. "Perhaps if we are after answers, others nearby may provide them." And while she's legitimately terrifying, Jin Guangyao would far rather be the helpful shadow of a terrifying person than the object of her scrutiny.
sanguinarydelight: (Elegant)

[personal profile] sanguinarydelight 2022-10-06 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
A pleased little smile passes across her face, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

"Indeed," she agrees. Usually she'd be dismissive, but in uncertain situations such as these, she's more than keen to build alliances. Who knows who will be useful later down the line, after all, and if the bridges she builds go nowhere... well. Dismantling them is no great matter.

With her bearings straightened, Alcina scours the beach for anyone who looks like they might be in charge. No sense pestering the help - they were all to busy scuttling around like pillbugs under an upturned stone. But someone had to be giving orders, and they would have the choicest morsels of information.

"Do tell me if you spot someone who looks like they're running this whole charade," she remarks haughtily as she adjusts her robe and strides with purpose, and shocking grace and poise for a woman of 9'6".