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countryclub2022-12-25 08:15 pm
reddosmod) wrote in countryclub2022-12-25 08:15 pm
Entry tags:
DECEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME!
DECEMBER 2022 TDM
UNFORTUNATELY ALL TOO STANDARD ARRIVAL
THE MISDIRECTED
FROSTQUAKE
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: Man in front of broken glacial ice]
[Image Two: Human face and shoulders, dripping blood with flaking skin]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Monstrous Human with sideways mouth and eyes]
[Image Two: Solitary Snowy Forest]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Frozen Zombie]
[Image Two: Icequake!]
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: Man in front of broken glacial ice]
[Image Two: Human face and shoulders, dripping blood with flaking skin]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Monstrous Human with sideways mouth and eyes]
[Image Two: Solitary Snowy Forest]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Frozen Zombie]
[Image Two: Icequake!]
WHEN: Last Week of November/First Week of December
WHERE: The Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Horror, Frozen Wastes, Possible Transformations, Extreme Cold, weird offers of juice under suspicious circumstances?
WHERE: The Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Horror, Frozen Wastes, Possible Transformations, Extreme Cold, weird offers of juice under suspicious circumstances?
The Heart of Winter in Trench is no time to enter the city as a sleeper. The entire beach is fully iced over with a glacially thick sheet of ice. Numerous patches of thick ice and heavy snowfall can be found around town, though they are shoveled to leave the paths accessible. Where the previous year, skates were rented and offered to those who wish to skate, the ice flows are far too craggy and irregular to be safe. Instead, cleats are given to those who greet and bring the sleepers to shore. Holes are bored at regular intervals deep into the ice flows and lights are lowered down into the holes to give guidance to sleepers' approach. When Sleepers rise from the depths, they find themselves in small wooden enclosures to protect from howling winds and bitter cold, able to form their bodies there in relative comfort in front of a censor with rocks heated by coldblood-infused stones especially for the purpose.
Outside of the bitter, and vicious cold, arrival to the city is a muted, quiet and otherwise uneventful occurrence. There are no tides of monsters. There are no horrific things waiting for people who arrive. There is simply a bone-chilling cold that numbs the soul a little. To help the people as they arrive, not only are they given their backpacks but they are also offered thick mugs of cocoa to help them cope with the cold. It seems to be helping quite a bit, actually. Yet, something about all of this seems off. The people of Trench are nervous, and there is an air of uncertainty in everything.
SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK
Where normally there would be large food stalls set up and games, displays of beauty such as ice sculptures, the cold is bad enough that the people of Trench want not to be out as much as possible, and doubtless neither do the Sleepers. They are hustled and bundled from one small structure to another. Heavy winter furs that look reminiscent of great wolf pelts are given to everyone, especially those who have no clothing. But it is otherwise a strangely muted affair, though the people whisper of hope that the Shedding Ceremony is about to begin, and with it is the hope of new life and new birth in the City of Trench. In time, many will find that the symptoms associated with Madame Generosity's ceremony of shedding one's older self are in full swing throughout the month of January, complete with possible transformations and itchy, scaley skin conditions. Lovely.
Before every new sleeper leaves, however, a final gift is given. It is a small box, which contains a hand written note in scrawled black ink that is alarmingly similar to squid ink. This same box appears the morning of January 1st on the doorstep of every single home of a sleeper in Trench, without fail. If a person in Trench has strange accommodations, they nevertheless find this box where they would normally wake, or around a corner in the early morning with their name on it and no explanation. Inside the box are always the same items: 1 gallon of orange juice, 6 cans of chicken noodle soup, 4 boxes of tissues and what looks like an old world-war I era gas mask. The hand written note reads clearly 'DRINK THE JUICE!' Nobody in Trench seems to know why or who gave them.
Outside of the bitter, and vicious cold, arrival to the city is a muted, quiet and otherwise uneventful occurrence. There are no tides of monsters. There are no horrific things waiting for people who arrive. There is simply a bone-chilling cold that numbs the soul a little. To help the people as they arrive, not only are they given their backpacks but they are also offered thick mugs of cocoa to help them cope with the cold. It seems to be helping quite a bit, actually. Yet, something about all of this seems off. The people of Trench are nervous, and there is an air of uncertainty in everything.
Where normally there would be large food stalls set up and games, displays of beauty such as ice sculptures, the cold is bad enough that the people of Trench want not to be out as much as possible, and doubtless neither do the Sleepers. They are hustled and bundled from one small structure to another. Heavy winter furs that look reminiscent of great wolf pelts are given to everyone, especially those who have no clothing. But it is otherwise a strangely muted affair, though the people whisper of hope that the Shedding Ceremony is about to begin, and with it is the hope of new life and new birth in the City of Trench. In time, many will find that the symptoms associated with Madame Generosity's ceremony of shedding one's older self are in full swing throughout the month of January, complete with possible transformations and itchy, scaley skin conditions. Lovely.
Before every new sleeper leaves, however, a final gift is given. It is a small box, which contains a hand written note in scrawled black ink that is alarmingly similar to squid ink. This same box appears the morning of January 1st on the doorstep of every single home of a sleeper in Trench, without fail. If a person in Trench has strange accommodations, they nevertheless find this box where they would normally wake, or around a corner in the early morning with their name on it and no explanation. Inside the box are always the same items: 1 gallon of orange juice, 6 cans of chicken noodle soup, 4 boxes of tissues and what looks like an old world-war I era gas mask. The hand written note reads clearly 'DRINK THE JUICE!' Nobody in Trench seems to know why or who gave them.
WHEN: Last Week of December through End of January
WHERE: Outside of the Main Districts of Trench, the Wilderness
CONTENT WARNINGS: Horrifying Monster, Body Horror, Being Lost, Severe Disorientation, Hypothermia, Possible Death
WHERE: Outside of the Main Districts of Trench, the Wilderness
CONTENT WARNINGS: Horrifying Monster, Body Horror, Being Lost, Severe Disorientation, Hypothermia, Possible Death
There is no real warning about what comes. Somewhere in the last week of December, people just occasionally turn up missing. The numbers are never alarming, but they're greater than should have been expected in the month of January. Trenchies seem clueless to this, and the Hunters are left scratching their heads. They do not know what is causing the added disappearances, as none of the usual signs and warnings attend the recent uptick. This alone has them unsettled, and Trenchies begin to travel resolutely in pairs and trios everywhere that they go. The reason why becomes all too clear if one strays outside of Trench's main districts and wanders the roads between the districts or anywhere near the farms during this month and a half.
There is something out there. It can never be seen directly, but the sense that you are being watched is inescapable. Hints of a figure in the shadows of the trees are nothing new in Trench, but there is a definite air of malevolence to it, one that is obvious and pointed at your person the moment that you recognize that it is present and acknowledge its existence in any fashion or form. The creature is never there if you look directly at it, but if you happen to catch it more closely out of the corner of your eye, the horrifyingly twisted form of a human being whose eyes and mouth are turned sideways is barely visible, pointing at you!
This would be the time that many good hunters would attack, yet the creature is a slippery one. It never actually attacks directly and any time a person tries to turn to it, it is simply gone. Indirect attacks can cause it to flee, but it always comes back at some point, seemingly invulnerable to attack. What it does, rather than attack, is far more nefarious as its mere presence can be disorienting to anyone who encounters it. All sense of direction becomes lost, and the person can find themselves wandering further and further out into the wilderness, even if they were originally within sight of their destination. The more lost they become, the more that their mind descends into a fugue, one where concentration becomes worse and worse, and memory seems to slip away until they lose all sense of identity. The further out, the colder it gets, and the more the smell of rotten eggs lingers, fetid in the air.
The spirit is eventually identified by some of the Arcane Scholars as not being native to Trench, and they believe it is from somewhere much further in the north, from places far removed from this town. There are only snippets about one of their kind ever being encountered in Trench before, and the reports said it eventually became lost and left again, as will this spirit. It is indestructible and unkillable, as it is already dead. The only true defense is to, when the smell of rotten eggs comes along, to cover the mouth and nose completely. The burning of incense also helps, anything to block out the foul odor, which turns out to be the likely vector of its disorienting effect. If they happen to have a compass that unerringly shows direction from prior events, those too can be a protection of sorts finding their way back. If one travels too long out in the wilderness, though, there are fears that one might become as lost as the spirit and die in the wilderness, ultimately sharing the fate that brought it into existence. Even those who escape the spirit's wrath may have lingering memory issues, though those should pass over the next week.
There is something out there. It can never be seen directly, but the sense that you are being watched is inescapable. Hints of a figure in the shadows of the trees are nothing new in Trench, but there is a definite air of malevolence to it, one that is obvious and pointed at your person the moment that you recognize that it is present and acknowledge its existence in any fashion or form. The creature is never there if you look directly at it, but if you happen to catch it more closely out of the corner of your eye, the horrifyingly twisted form of a human being whose eyes and mouth are turned sideways is barely visible, pointing at you!
This would be the time that many good hunters would attack, yet the creature is a slippery one. It never actually attacks directly and any time a person tries to turn to it, it is simply gone. Indirect attacks can cause it to flee, but it always comes back at some point, seemingly invulnerable to attack. What it does, rather than attack, is far more nefarious as its mere presence can be disorienting to anyone who encounters it. All sense of direction becomes lost, and the person can find themselves wandering further and further out into the wilderness, even if they were originally within sight of their destination. The more lost they become, the more that their mind descends into a fugue, one where concentration becomes worse and worse, and memory seems to slip away until they lose all sense of identity. The further out, the colder it gets, and the more the smell of rotten eggs lingers, fetid in the air.
The spirit is eventually identified by some of the Arcane Scholars as not being native to Trench, and they believe it is from somewhere much further in the north, from places far removed from this town. There are only snippets about one of their kind ever being encountered in Trench before, and the reports said it eventually became lost and left again, as will this spirit. It is indestructible and unkillable, as it is already dead. The only true defense is to, when the smell of rotten eggs comes along, to cover the mouth and nose completely. The burning of incense also helps, anything to block out the foul odor, which turns out to be the likely vector of its disorienting effect. If they happen to have a compass that unerringly shows direction from prior events, those too can be a protection of sorts finding their way back. If one travels too long out in the wilderness, though, there are fears that one might become as lost as the spirit and die in the wilderness, ultimately sharing the fate that brought it into existence. Even those who escape the spirit's wrath may have lingering memory issues, though those should pass over the next week.
WHEN: First week of January
WHERE: Anywhere around Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Natural Disaster Horror, Frostquakes, Falling Peril, Sinkholes, Fear of the Dark, Frozen Zombies!
WHERE: Anywhere around Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Natural Disaster Horror, Frostquakes, Falling Peril, Sinkholes, Fear of the Dark, Frozen Zombies!
At first you think you're being treated to something spectacular! There's a small scale aurora that shows itself in the sky over your head. It's breathtaking and quite stunning to behold. The truth of the matter is all too real almost immediately afterwards however. There is a dull, booming crack as the frozen ground underneath your feet breaks and shudders, giving way! It's an earthquake, or more accurately a frostquake. In and around the city of Trench, as the temperatures shift in the dead of the cold of the Bone Moon, ice flows and patches of snow shift and compress against the ground, causing localized earthquakes to occur.
These frostquakes can damage buildings, causing items to fall, breaking plaster and the like. They are not, however, strong enough to do permanent harm to the buildings unless they are themselves structurally unsound. Each of them is localized, their experience not traveling more than two city blocks way each time one strikes. However, if you are unfortunate enough to be outside when it happens, they have an alarming habit of striking under the feet of unwary sleepers. Every time one of these frostquakes occurs, a patch of ground opens up temporarily into a deep sinkhole!
Falling into the hole can be an unpleasant sequence of events, but the ground beneath is littered with snow and something soft. Though banged up, the sleeper should be able to survive the fall intact. It's getting back out that is the problem. The walls aren't sheer, but it's a difficult climb. A rope can be thrown down, but it's very dark and cold in the space, making it hard to see much of anything. The real danger lies in the fact that they find that they are not alone! The 'softness' that they landed upon turns out to be a small number of other unfortunate souls who once fell in a prior frostquake, their bodies freezing to death long ago and rising as undead, waiting for an opening to escape. They attack blindly and though they can be defeated, they are still quite strong. Unlike some zombies, they do not hunger for flesh, but for the escape from their icy tomb and will do anything to crawl their way out, where they can wreck havoc finally on the living! Better deal with them quickly!
These frostquakes can damage buildings, causing items to fall, breaking plaster and the like. They are not, however, strong enough to do permanent harm to the buildings unless they are themselves structurally unsound. Each of them is localized, their experience not traveling more than two city blocks way each time one strikes. However, if you are unfortunate enough to be outside when it happens, they have an alarming habit of striking under the feet of unwary sleepers. Every time one of these frostquakes occurs, a patch of ground opens up temporarily into a deep sinkhole!
Falling into the hole can be an unpleasant sequence of events, but the ground beneath is littered with snow and something soft. Though banged up, the sleeper should be able to survive the fall intact. It's getting back out that is the problem. The walls aren't sheer, but it's a difficult climb. A rope can be thrown down, but it's very dark and cold in the space, making it hard to see much of anything. The real danger lies in the fact that they find that they are not alone! The 'softness' that they landed upon turns out to be a small number of other unfortunate souls who once fell in a prior frostquake, their bodies freezing to death long ago and rising as undead, waiting for an opening to escape. They attack blindly and though they can be defeated, they are still quite strong. Unlike some zombies, they do not hunger for flesh, but for the escape from their icy tomb and will do anything to crawl their way out, where they can wreck havoc finally on the living! Better deal with them quickly!
no subject
"I'm Chrollo. That would be very helpful. I can save that information in my omni right?" Chrollo asked as he made a show of digging through the pockets in his coat, pulling out his notebook and a few pieces of paper from the left. Then his conjured book. "Could you hold these for a moment?" He asked with his conjured book front cover down on the bottom of the stack. This wasn't quite the use he'd had in mind when he picked out a new coat with larger pockets but it was still just as useful.
no subject
The moment he offers the stack, Sharon takes it with little hesitance, holding it only briefly with one hand at the bottom and one at the top before she adjusts her grip on them, shifting them to rest against one arm and her chest. "You've got some deep pockets. I'm almost jealous," she says lightly. She has plenty of pockets but nothing that could hold a whole book.
"I'm guessing you've been taking a ton of notes?" She's impressed. She never bothered to take notes and that... definitely cost her in the beginning.
no subject
"I like books, my last coat didn't have pockets big enough to fit them but it's very useful," Chrollo says. The style of his coat is mostly hidden by the arctic furs he received since arriving, but the fur around the collar and at the hem and cuffs is obvious.
"Yes, it's useful to have everything written down, ink on paper seems to offer its own perspective sometimes." He spends a few more moments pulling more pens and a couple other objects out of each pocket before he pulls the omni out. "There." He tucks it under an arm and reaches for his books and notebooks to take them back.
no subject
She carries a leather satchel with her when she's doing errands but most days she's fine with the multi-pocketed belt she wears on her waist, complete with loops for small vials of blood or potions.
"Now, what was it I was gonna tell you?" a beat and then, "Oh, yeah, weapons. What kind of weapon do you think you'd be most comfortable with? You can get pretty much anything in this place. Skys the limit as long as you have goods to trade."
no subject
The bag Chrollo has is hidden under his clothes. The pockets are too useful as an excuse to ask people to hold things for him, and he has few enough possessions that it's easier to store them in his pockets or up his sleeves.
"I've never had much need for anything more than a knife, so I haven't given it any thought before. Something where I don't need to worry about running out of ammo," Chrollo says. He might go for a sword, and his mind drifts briefly to Feitan's umbrella sword. Being able to use the umbrella to shield blood splatters might be useful, but it doesn't have any other appeal.
no subject
"There's a blacksmith, Artemisia, in Willful Machine that specializes in swords and knives. Her shop is called The Metal Petal. It's about a five-minute walk from the lamp, damn near impossible to miss," Sharon visited in early December to start gift shopping for some of the important people in her life, "But if you're looking for something more unique, there's the Clink'n'Clank in Prufrock run by my friend Jinx. She makes custom weapons."
"But you do have that power of yours. That'll give you more than a little boost up in this place until you have a better weapon. Plus, whatever bloodtype you wound up with could also help in the defense/offense department."
no subject
"That little trick is more useful for helping out other people than it is myself, it's not very good for a fight." It's the truth, as there are few cases where that ability would be useful where Chrollo wouldn't simply be better off using a more versatile one instead. Part of him thinks to the weapon most recently used against him, a chain. Chrollo planned on using fishing line to retrieve Shalnark's antennae after throwing them in a fight, but the same concept could easily apply to a heaver line and a heavier weapon.
It's a good way to gain insight into the nuances of fighting with a chain that one could only gain through experience.
"Custom weapons. I've seen people use quite a few interesting ones. Needles, chains, puppets."
no subject
"So," she starts conversationally, "Is teleportation the only thing you can do? Or do you have other cool tricks up your sleeves?"
no subject
Using the omni is still unfamiliar compared to a phone, but almost oddly intuitive the way nen is.
no subject
"Wow, so impressive. I'd almost say that beats the teleportation thing," a little placating, a little teasing, but entirely friendly and easygoing, "Maybe I'll give you a coin sometime so you can show me the other one."
"My username is sds by the way. In case you ever have any questions and don't know who to ask."
no subject
He quickly enters her username into his omni once she shares it.
"It's a little cold to pull coins out from behind your ear, and speaking of cold, I should go back inside."
no subject
"Thanks again for the rescue," she tells him one last time before she departs with a small wave of goodbye.