TDM: April

[moustre]

Test Drive: April

Welcome to aefenglom's test drive! All threads can be considered game canon, should you choose to do so; regardless of if you pick specific threads to remain canon to the game, the prompts and test drive itself will be. This will be touched on later in-game, so it's fairly important to note! Aside from that, here are some quick reminders:



• Reserves Open Today! If you're interested in securing a spot, put one in! We accept applications without reserves too, of course. Reserves will expire three days before the end of the application period, on the 28th.
• Applications Open The 24th! These will last until the end of the month, the 30th, with the game formally beginning on May 1st. The application page can be found here.
• If you have any questions about the game or the world, please refer to the FAQ page; if you still have questions, feel free to ask them! For questions specific to the test drive, please ask them on the appropriate thread.
• For the purposes of the test drive, your character will have access to all magics taught by the Coven if they're a Witch, and as much of their shifted form as you'd like if they're a Monster. Feel free to play around and experiment with each!
• Test drive threads can be used as samples for your applications!



With that taken care of...

You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the wind brushes playfully against your face -

and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that.

The Tea Party

The air turns a sweeter smell, almost like a bakery; the gentle laughter and chatter of living creatures filters in through leaves that brush against you, hanging from winding vines that hang from above. Flowers in shades of orange and red glow faintly among the greenery, their petals curling in shyly once they're paid attention to. As the area comes more into focus, the shadows of insect-winged forms become clearer, flitting about - talking about some kind of party, about a Queen, about the Courts meeting on neutral ground for the first time in a thousand years.

You're not entirely sure what's going on, and it doesn't seem as if anyone's noticed you've arrived - but three different paths unfurl in your mind's eye, vague in shape and meaning.

A Taste of Faeryland... Following the voices, you find them: smaller-than-average humanoids with thin limbs, a variety of wings (prismatic butterfly, fuzzy moth, delicate bee - all of it), large, glittering compound eyes, antennas fitting their winged insect-type... Those familiar with the tales of the fae might recognize these Monsters as something similar. They greet you as if you were an old friend regardless of your appearance, inviting you to sit down at the table - which seems to go on forever in the large dining hall-esque canopy of nature they have set up, lined with elegant porcelain tableware and shimmering orbs of magic. The food is similarly endless, ranging from the familiar to the unusual, and careful observation (or just plain digging in) shows the following effects: breakfast foods make you glow and emit colorful sparks, brunch foods get you floating as if filled with bubbles, lunch foods will make you feel as if you've taken part in happy hour, dinner foods will make you insatiably hungry, and dessert will make you feel as if you should simply stay in Faeryland forever... It's possible to mix and match these with effects, but do be careful. The creatures present speak in high, lilting voices about nothing in particular at all - if asked anything serious, they merely give the character a curious if disproving look and say it's impolite to speak of politics over a meal. Ask something a little more lighthearted though, and they laugh and still... don't quite answer, patting your hand and asking if you'd like an extra slice of buttered bread and jam. The tables aren't exactly the best place for eavesdropping and learning what's going on, it seems - but there are plenty of exits out of the dining hall. Large, beetle-like Fae stand guard at the entrances of various hallways outside of the hall in the castle though, preventing anyone from entering them. When asked, they simply reply these are to private quarters that ordinary guests aren't allowed into and refuse to budge on the matter.

A Coalition of Interests... The Seelie and the Unseelie Courts of the Fae - whether you know them or not, evidently it's a big deal that they're meeting tonight. Or over several days and nights; the Fae themselves seem to be in a bit of an argument over how long they actually want to stay in the same company as their counterparts, neutral ground of the Dewaint Forest. Regardless, there are no marked differences between the two physically, and they all speak of a singular Queen heading them; behaviorally, though, that's another thing entirely. Those of the Seelie Court are quicker to engage in conversation and prefer it one-on-one, hardly allowing a word in edgewise and getting irritated when interrupted; their pranks are usually mildly malicious, with spells causing uncontrollable laughter, color changes, and charms to make the charmee fall in love at first sight with whomever they see first peppering their repertoire. Returning to their good graces is fairly easy - the gift of something pretty as an apology tends to work, but each Fae has their own very particular gift they like. If it's messed up even a little bit, they won't accept it, and will merely play another trick upon the giftee. Those of the Unseelie Court, meanwhile, are a little harder to talk to; they prefer to prank and trick first to test those they might be interested in as a group, not unlike children trying to get the attention of someone they like by pulling their hair. Their pranks usually range from genuine hurt (such as pulling hair, stinging nettles, or simply beating them with bound vines) to curses (losing one's voice, the head of an ass, or full-scale animal transformations). Withstanding these, or standing up to these Fae, earns as much of their ire as it does their respect - the truly respectful human will be subjected to headpats and collars, like a pet.

A Treacherous Adventure... As beautiful as it is outside of the main dining hall and newly-grown castle (just for the momentous occasion itself, going by the rumors!), Faeryland as a whole is mired in danger. The wrong step sends one tumbling down a rabbit hole full of interesting sights, landing in a wide field of drooping flowers that snore softly and scream bloodcurdling loud when awoken. No matter how long one walks, discovering both familiar and unfamiliar sights, never ends in finding the castle again. In fact, it's much easier to find yourself accidentally going deeper into the woods. The exceptionally tall trees of the Dewaint Forest show hints of decay and rot, the smell of the dead barely covered by the flowers desperately growing across the blackened bodies of Fae and other animals that wandered too close to the growing infection in the area. What look like corpses will tremble and rise when they sense someone is close by - their eyes and mouth are pure white, contrasting with the darkness around them, and throughout the shell are cracks of a similarly pulsing whiteness; it smells magical, it feels incredibly heavy and overpowering, and it might just be too powerful for those most sensitive to the corruption and to magic. The shadowy creatures' wings are larger than normal and monstrous, with their bodies held up by the dew-crying flowers that simultaneously hold them back yet sneak their roots closer to grab those who awakened them and drag them closer. Where the monster begins and ends with the corrupted nature it's made its bed in isn't completely clear, but one thing is: it's very, very hungry. Thankfully, it's a good thing some of you have new abilities at hand, and some of you have a few neat changes to help. Teaming up makes things go quicker, and once defeated, these creatures bleed white magic and disappear in ashy smoke, shell breaking off in bits to reveal a dried-up corpse of a Fae. Nothing else remains, not even a hint to their identity, and the more of these monstrously-turned Monsters characters meet, the bigger and more terrifying they get.

Comments

Caster (Cú Chulainn) | FGO / OTA

[futhark]

▶ A Taste of Faeryland...

[ If Caster could dream, he would consider it one of the wildest and most vivid dreams ever. Due to his nature, he can't, so suddenly having a dream rings a "that's suspicious!" note somewhere in the back of his mind.

---Which gets disregarded mere minutes later as he starts exploring the party, intrigued by Fae hosts. Exchanging jovial pleasantries and jokes with them comes easy, as he back during his lifetime he was familiar with similar faeries and their lore in his homeland. The Fair Folk, People of the Mounds--

With his druid garb, cloak and hood pulled up, he hardly cuts a presence for elegant feast happening in the castle. But nearly every one of the guests not being a Fae stands out like a sore thumb and that already makes them a crowd.

The one important rule, the rule to not eat offered food clashes with his own geis of not refusing hospitality. He avoids the food tables but in the end, he is not able to avoid invitation. A bit conflicted he does join in the feast. It's just a dream, who cares (he's a spirit anyway).

At some point he begins approaching other guests (that would be you) with a grin playing on his lips. ]

Careful, this food might make you unable to leave forever. [ The joking tone he delivers it with, and that fact that he seems to be starting his own breakfast dim the warning. ] It's delicious but is it worth a risk?


▶ A Coalition of Interests... [let us dance]

[ At the end of the day, all Fae are petty little pests, and it's incredibly easy to accidentally walk on their toes. Metaphorically of course. Not to mention, Caster isn't exactly a master of knowing when to shut-up.

So now there's a prank- a curse- compelling him to do what he is about to do. There is no warning aside from a whistled melody coming. Maybe it's by hand on a shoulder, maybe it's by grabbing both of hands. The druid appears out of nowhere and drags someone (that would be you) into a dance by surprise. The moment the touch happens, melody Caster hummed becomes audible. A soft sound played by tiny bells, and winds. Is there someone singing? ]

No party without a dance, eh? Looks like we were chosen to be the performers.

[ Well he was. A punishment for interrupting a Fae with smart-ass comment. No matter he tries he can't shake off the compellment, so he might as well pull another victim into this ordeal ]


▶ A Coalition of Interests... [it looks like love]

[ One would think that being forced to dance would make someone more careful. And in theory it did, but just because Caster learned his lesson of not engaging in conversations with courtiers, doesn't mean he won't get in trouble in another way. Or maybe he's just that unlucky and it's so not his day (he is unlucky).

The spell he finds himself under next is far more subtle. So subtle that he doesn't realize it has been cast at first. The food and drinks already have some interesting qualities so nothing strikes him as that unusual until-

His gaze lands on t h a t person, right now. It's like a lightning strike. Everything stops, the sudden attraction pulls him forward. The non-existent flowers and sparkles and butterflies all metaphorically all go "oh shit." Luckily no music this time. Caster closes the distance between him and his newest object of interest fewest steps possible. Personal space is a myth. ]

You look lonely and distressed, why don't I save you?

[ Instead of patting their shoulder, he teasingly runs fingers over it, caresses, a bit too intimate for a "hello". Sure he is a flirt even on his best day, but this spell ain't cool. ]


▶ A Treacherous Adventure...

[ In the end, shaking off the spells, getting in the good graces of hosts, even earning a headpat gets boring. The dream doesn't end, the magic is unfamiliar, and the urge to explore grows stronger. Other guests do the same, some faces disappearing from the crowd- to where? The forest is the easiest answer, even though getting out of the castle can be quite an adventure on its own (and realization of not being able to come hits much later). At first, Caster is not worried about it, he's been raised to understand forests as sacred things- old, and wise beyond measure. Respect them and they will give you shelter. But when the rot and death come into the picture the nature of the forest itself shifts-

There's a sound behind, and with a quick glance, he notes it's one of the guests. He uses his druid staff to block the way. ]

Stop. We are intruders here, and we are not welcome here. [ He makes no mention of the corpses buried under flowers, around the tree roots-. ]

A Taste of Faeryland

[holybeasts]

[His words have Maria's fingers stop inches from a danish she had settled her intentions on snatching up. Only for a fraction of a moment though as his joking tone catches up with her mind and his own food selecting commences.

She huffs out a breath, her expression shifting to an amused little smile as she finally picks up the danish.]

Life is all about risks, isn't it?

[futhark]

My type of girl. [ Clearly, it's best time to flirt. ] Besides, if the food is good, it might be worth staying, no?

[ That assuming you'd get fed forever. But hey, Otherworld adventures can be strange ones. They do become strange once he takes another bite of his own portion and only starts to notice a strange glow on his fingers. He wiggles the fingers with mild curiosity as the movement sends tiny sparks into air ]

Ah, it's starting.

[holybeasts]

I don't know about that but --

[... Oh? She goes wide-eyed.]

What's starting?

[Oh she knew it, the moment she gives in to the sweets is the moment she's cursed finally. Damn her sweet tooth!]

[futhark]

[ While his gloves are fingerless, he is tempted to remove one of them- just to see how far the sparkling effect goes. Alas- maybe later. First, there is a question to answer. ]

Change.

[ Would be dramatic, if not for his flat delivery. ]

If human food is made to sustain the human body, then Otherworld's food is made for its inhabitants- [ And then there is the whole "you are what you eat" logic. At least in the lore, he's familiar with - so yes he is extrapolating a lot. ]

[holybeasts]

[A moment of thought and by Maria's expression it looks like she gets it. Human food sustains human bodies in the way they need it and 'Otherworlder' food as he puts it sustains these creatures in the ways their bodies need it.

... Did that mean they would change just from eating it then? It didn't seem to be a harmful change though.

She pauses to look around the room again at all the assorted collection of beings. She had been struck by how roughly the same they looked and she finds herself now noting it again. Aside from ladybug wings there or mother wings here or differences in heads, it wasn't that wide of a gap between them all in her view.]

You called them 'Otherworlders'?

[Her tone is curious and indeed she doesn't look so much afraid as she does intrigued. She hadn't been attacked so far and if the food didn't kill you or some such, she saw little reason to be too fearful. On guard perhaps but fear did no one any good.]

A Coalition of Interests... [it looks like love]

[boneofsword]

[Archer thought that after finding himself summoned into this odd world and not being able to use his skills (or weapons) nothing will be able to surprise him. How wrong he was.

Sound of oh-so-familiar voice, combined with touch far too intimate for his liking, makes him stop dead. Sure, Lancer is a flirt, but to hit on him? Not possible. Luckily his poker face saves him from disgrace of picking up his jaw from the ground.]

Lan-

[-wait, what. Instead of familiar warrior in blue he sees a druid. A honest druid, complete with a gnarled staff, although still keeping with a blue theme.]

That's an improvement from your last outfit.

[futhark]

[ Petty Pixies makes for nice alliteration, no? At least (unfortunately??) the spell left intact enough of his judgment to mentally facepalm like a lot. Of all the people--- ]

Look at me, I live to please. [ A beat ] Occasionally.

[ He does not step back, not at all. The fingers travel down the strong arm and are taken away-- only to have Caster drape himself over that arm. The bowman makes for a fine warrior and there is plenty to admire ]

Lonely is taken care of, now what should I do about the distress?

[ At least it could be funny? Until he figures what is the condition of breaking this amorous spell ]

[boneofsword]

[Fate loves to throw them a each other in most unexpected moments. Archer isn't as much taken aback by the unexpected company as by the outfit change. So, a different class it is, and it's not hard to guess which one.]

I've had a chance to notice. [completely deadpan, with one eye closed. He can not notice that even in Caster version Cú Chulainn's clothes are very form-fitting, and outline his physique. In whole it suits him well.]

An explanation of what's going on will suffice, although given our hosts I doubt it's that easy to obtain.

[While Archer is entirely modern, he knows a thing or two about the fair folk. Nothing is as simple as it looks. Caster, on the other hand, is much more familiar with Fae and their magic-

wait, could it be a spell cast by one petty fae on equally petty halfblood? With such possibility in mind Archer pays more attention to his companion than usual. Nevermind that their usual consist of trying to kill each other.]

[futhark]

[ Take a "t" out of Fate and now you got Fae and it's the greatest conspiracy apparently ]

You've been spirited away by the Fair Folk. If you won't eat or drink anything and manage to not anger your host along the way, maybe you'll be able to leave in the morning. Who knows what year it might be though. [ That's how the legend would go, usually. But this is a dream, and they're Servants, so tit definitely doesn't work like that. Still, he can tease and prick with a metaphorical needle- even if the affected side of him wants Archer to stop being so rigid and collected, get all the attention focused on him. ]

Don't be scared- [ The needle, but he rests his head on Archer's shoulder in an overly familiar gesture. Right, that's not exactly how their saying hello goes. ] -it's just a Dream.

[boneofsword]

[It's not too far from the truth. Fate is as fickle and cruel as Fae are.]

[Caser's answer grants him an eyeroll. Seriously, they're Servants, not humans that are able to dream. Another mission or summoning is more likely.]

Year is the last thi- [Archer tries to answer but his companion startles him again. It's far too intimate even for Cu Chulainn who ignores personal space. Nevermind that it feels surprisingly nice. There's only one possibility, and it's their hosts.]

Say, Caster. [Archer clears his throat, eyeing his companion a bit warily.] Is it food, drink, or spell?

Let us Dance

[sing_for_me]

[ It takes a moment for Alex to regain her bearings when she was unexpectedly whisked away, and if she wasn't being held, she probably would have fallen over. Her attempts at keeping up with his fluid movements didn’t look very much like dancing though, and looked a lot more like awkward shuffling. ]

Wha--What are you doing?!

[ Who just grabs someone like that to dance out of no where? Speaking of out of the blue (other than all the blue right in front of her)..where did the music suddenly come from? ]

[futhark]

[ Caster grins and just slows down a bit to make it easier for his New Partner to catch up. He pulled the cute one, this dream might be better than expected. ]

Sweeping you off your feet. [ He puts hand on Alex' waist, for a better dancing position. ] While humbly asking for your help at the same time!

[ That ain't a lie. Just a creative interpretation of truth. ]

[sing_for_me]

[ Doesn't the asking normally happen before?

The extra support does help, and he doesn't give a particularly threatening vibe. She's willing to help out the stranger, but remains a little cautious still. ]

Help with..? If it's dancing, I'm really not much of one.

[ She didn't really have much opportunities to do so. ]

[futhark]

[ Asking first is what should happen first- but apparently not this time. But this is such grand success she didn't ran away. He might yet be freed from the curse, and earn a dance with a beauty at the same time. ]

I could make it into a lesson, how about that? [ Caster cocks his head on a side and the melody turns into one with an easier beat- ] There's a simple step I can show you.

[sing_for_me]

That didn't answer my ques--

[ The music changes with the tilt of his head and that has Alex jumping in surprise as she looks around. How was he doing that? ]

I thought you needed help?

[ This man sure went at his own pace. ]

a trecherous adventure

[ua_duibhne]

[The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up, his nerves prickling with both tension and a sense of familiarity he can't place. The man in front of him is a stranger but something about his dress, the knotwork on his clothes and staff, his presence-

Diarmuid shakes his head. Whatever it is, he's too distracted by the heavy, sweet scent of decay in the air to give it much more thought than that.]

Be that as it may, it doesn't seem to want us to leave either.

[To say the least. A bruise is beginning to blossom across his cheek from a previous encounter and one of his bracers has been torn off altogether with only a series of claw marks left in its place. Without his spear- which he pointedly twirls and rests back across his shoulders- it could have gone a lot worse.]

At least, not in one piece.

[futhark]

[ That spear catches Caster's eye for longer than he'd like to admit. It's familiar not in a sense of being a weapon known to him, but rather is similar to those. Once he gets to see the warrior fight, he might get a better idea- or a case of envy.

Why couldn't he be brought here as Lancer, ehh ]

So the return path is already blocked? [ He's referring to the bruise on Lancer's cheek. Getting a sense of direction in this strange forest - in this strange Dream - but what is behind them should be the return path, right? There goes usefulness of Disengage C...

The flowers sway and dance as the undead creatures rise without haste. It's slow, threatening and unnatural. ]

Could use some iron- [ Wonder if these undead faeries are just as allergic to ones he's familiar with (the not undead kind tho) ] -but fire will do too.

[ And with a long gesture, he draws a flame in the air. ]

My aim is good, don't let the flames stop you-- [ Like he'd be teasingly implying that Lancer might not be able to dodge it. Perish the thought! ] I didn't catch your name.

[ua_duibhne]

[Fire crackles in the air, a brilliant, orange-red blaze in fierce defiance of the forest all around them.

Caster.

The word slips into his thoughts unbidden despite knowing that he's more likely than not looking at a skilled mage rather than a Servant. True, that peculiar sense of familiarity is stronger than ever but there's no reason to think that this dream-turned-nightmare obeys any of the rules he's familiar with from home.]

Maybe not blocked so much as guarded.

[All around them, creatures begin to stir once more and Diarmuid's grip on his spear tightens. Comfort though it is, he would feel more confident if he still had his its twin- but that ship has long since sailed. Or rather, purposefully wrecked itself. The fact of the matter is that, armed or otherwise, they're at a distinct disadvantage by virtue of their unfamiliarity with both their enemy and the battleground.

I didn't catch your name.

It's brief but Caster will definitely notice a flicker of hesitation before he answers. If they're to fight side by side then maybe-]

... Lancer is fine.

[For now. Digging his feet into the ground, Diarmuid swings his spear back into place, ready to strike.]

And you?

[futhark]

[ So another Servant, that does give credibility of the idea that maybe this whole place is some... weird phenomena? A singularity? Dream or not, better not to test what happens if you die in it.

"Guarded" is a good word, a good way to put it. The other man signals that he has control of the situation there (whether it is true or not, that is unimportant. The confidence to boast matters) ]

Caster. Small world, eh? [ Spoken in a conversational tone, as if they had time for a chat. Class names work as introductions. They both know on what ground they stay on. The shadowy creatures don't wait any longer and move - lunge - forward. Caster welcomes them by changing the flame into a torrent of fire, with just a gesture. The rune is written in the air but it does not appear, the lines of power do not linger in the air, but the command of magic fire still stays.

A question for later.

For now, he is content to fight with Lancer, they can have each other's back. ]

I think I figured out the direction we should fight our way through.

[ Too much confidence, too little facts here. ]

dance dance dance

[sageprincess]

[Caster is very, very lucky that the dance partner he's chosen has been keeping a tight leash on her instinctual reactions to things out of fear of disrespecting their oh-so gracious hosts. Having her hands suddenly grabbed by a complete stranger might have earned a... let's say more heated response otherwise.

Her long ears twitch as she starts hearing light and airy music where there was none before, trying to find the source not entirely unlike a cat. The rest of her, however, is stiff and reluctant as he tries to twirl her around, looking up at him with no small amount of alarm.]

"We"?

[SHE WAS MINDING HER OWN GODDAMN BUSINESS, GOOD SIR.]

[futhark]

[ Alert, alert, resistance detected. ]

Me and you. [ That's what "we" means ] Mmm, if the steps are too fast for you my lady-

[ Curiously enough the music changes the tune from the initial energetic melody to a slower one. Perhaps it's a challenge ]

Is this melody more comfortable?

[ Unfortunately, just because Caster notices the reluctance to dance doesn't mean he's just going to stop insisting so easily. If he has to suffer someone else just might with him, and if they could turn into a fun experience, only better. Tho he does wonder if he didn't pick someone related to the host, instead of one of the guests. ]

[sageprincess]

[He's toying with her. She doesn't know how he's manipulating the music (because clearly he is!) or why he singled her out among all the guests (because clearly there must be a reason!) but she has no intentions of just playing along for his entertainment easily. Her confusion morphs into an irritated glare that looks dangerously close to a pout.]

The "melody" was not the point I was taking issue with, sir.

[Is dancing with a plank of wood a "fun experience" because that's essentially what he's getting right now.]

[futhark]

[ Caster clicks his tongue, his mood drops a tiny bit. Sadly he can't stop the whole dancing part, so the wooden plank princess gets dragged along anyway ]

Then what is? [ HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND. Wait, wait, he totally got this figured out- ] -if you only know one can kind of steps, show me and I'll follow

[ He says as he experiments with the plank and tries to swirl her around. ]

[sageprincess]

It is generally considered good manners to ask if someone would like to dance rather than simply grabbing them.

[Also she's probably gotten roped into whatever curse has affected him too, but she doesn't know that yet. She's forced to step around a little as he turns her this way and that since he's still taller and stronger than her even without Bullshit Servant Strength, but she doesn't have to like it.

His offer gives her an idea, though. A bad idea, probably, but she's grumpy about this whole situation already and the opportunity to let out a bit of that frustration is just too tempting. His warning comes in the form of a slight twitch of her lips, the tiniest glint of amusement in her eyes as she says:]

... But since you are being so accommodating, I suppose I can show you the kind of dance I know--

[And then she's suddenly taking a large step towards him, closing the distance between them in a way that would be bold if it weren't for the fact that she's only doing it to jam that foot into his instep. Not as hard as she can - thus far he's proven himself to be more of an irritant than an actual threat - but enough to show that she's not some weak damsel to be played around with.

Also put some damn shoes on, ya hippie.]