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

paris mercout | original

[oceanschild]

I

At first for Paris, this almost feels normal; spirits sometimes communicate through dreams, and being half-spirit himself, more of them tend to drop in on his than most others. But little things start to set this dream apart, how clear it is, how vast the domain seems to be, the separate paths-this is not how this is meant to work.

So he's a little anxious by the time he makes it to the party. The creatures there still look like spirits, perhaps ones of various insects or just ones that like that kind of look, but there's something very not-spirit like about them that he can't put his finger on. But if there's anything he knows about creatures like this, it's that it's never a good idea to be rude.

So he politely takes a croissant, knowing quite well that they probably won't taste like his mother's but it makes more sense to him than much of the rest of the food around the table. His unruly dirty blonde hair begins to emit small sparks from the tips, and his dark blue eyes widen as his fingers start experiencing the same effects. "I-this-is this supposed to happen??" he hisses at whoever's closest to him.

II

Unfortunately, being overly polite also gets Paris in trouble eventually. One of the Unseelie took a liking to him, partially because he's been putting up with their nonsense for a while now without complain and partially because they seem fascinated by the many, many freckles dotting his tanned skin. This has not resulted in him being left alone, but instead he's somehow been forced into a collar, which is not something he is at all sure about. He looks around, trying to make eye contact with anyone who looks like they might be helpful to try and get them to… well, help. To whatever interpretation of help they feel like, honestly.

II

[halfbloodhatchling]

Kai has some opinions about collars and while he's all too happy to step in for Paris that might not exactly be what Paris wants. Mostly because Kai's opinion of helping is to draw a knife and brandish it in front of him. He also bares his teeth at the Unseelie, instinct coming to the front.

"Back off if you don't want to know what this feels like." It'd be a relief for Kai to do something, and he's plenty willing to put words into action. He's going to glance at Paris, mostly to make sure he's going to be okay once Kai gets that collar off of him.

[oceanschild]

That is a potentially very, very bad way of helping. Paris's dark blue eyes are wide and worried when Kai looks back at him, and then confused when (at least for the moment) the creature seems to actually listen.

"That worked?" he says somewhat incredulously, still looking at the Fae with some skepticism. He'd picked up that they're slightly different from the spirits he's used to, but being threatened by knives or by... basically any mortal weapon? That's incredibly off.

[halfbloodhatchling]

"Speak a language they understand," Kai suggests, but he's tucking the knife back away to tug the collar off from this stranger's neck. Kai's eyes are a deep purple, and his arms and hands are covered in scales. His fingers curl a little in, partway to claws, but it's not enough to keep him from working the latch open.

"It probably would have worked even better with some iron." There's simply the minor problem of the issues that iron would cause Kai himself.

[oceanschild]

Once he gets a better look at his would-be rescuer, Paris's questions just mount up. Even humans with mixed heritage like himself look entirely human, so he would assume that Kai is also a spirit. (Really, spirits can look like anything, which is why the moment he's lumping anyone who doesn't look completely human into that category.) But then why would he help? Spirits don't usually get in each others' way if there's no incentive for them. And rescuing him, he's pretty sure, offers no incentive.

He really feels like he's missing something here.

"...Thank you," he says, reaching up to rub at his neck where the collar was, "...Why would iron help more?" He's sticking around, because he assumes there's a catch. And it's no good to owe an unknown favor.

[halfbloodhatchling]

At least Kai thinks of himself as human, which he is well aware helps not at all when he looks like he does. When he's done he drops the collar to the ground and kicks it away with a look of disgust on his pretty face. He definitely would have done that for anyone, and he's assuming that Paris sticking around means he thinks he might need more protection.

"It's incompatible with magic." Only thing that can kill the elfin at least.

[oceanschild]

Paris stares at him. "No it isn't." That doesn't make even the slightest amount of sense. There are spirits of iron, and of caverns and mines. Paris himself has seen fire spirits help to forge iron tools, or to light ovens. He isn't the argumentative sort, but he doesn't quite know what to do in the face of something so blatantly wrong.

[halfbloodhatchling]

Kai is not at all an expert on magic. In fact, he's such a non-expert that he'd be happy enough to defer on most matters to just about anyone else.

But he knows what it's like to have iron under his skin, and to feel the reaction of magic ripping through him, setting every nerve on fire. Magic most definitely does not get along with iron.

"That one I know," Kai says.

[oceanschild]

Even though he knows that he's not wrong, something about the look Kai gives him kind of wants to make him fold just like that. But it just doesn't make sense. "I've seen spirits work with iron," he says, brow crinkled and really not sure what else this person could be talking about, "...Is it just that iron hurts you?" Specific to spirit weakness, he could maybe see. Even if he has no idea what kind of domain one would have to have to possess such a weakness.

[halfbloodhatchling]

"Spirits," Kai repeats back and he tries to think of Cari and what she does, if iron would make a difference there. He actually doesn't know, so he shrugs at it. "Maybe, yeah." Because that's just dead people.

"Iron hurts me less than most elfin."

[oceanschild]

This is not making more sense.

"...What's elfin?" Paris finally asks weakly. Does he know even less about the world than he thought he did? He at least thought he had a handle on magic.

[halfbloodhatchling]

Kai looks at him for a slow moment, then gestures at his ears, and then tries the other words that he knows to describe what the elfin are.

"Sidhe. Unsidhe. Cat bastards."

[oceanschild]

Paris feels incredibly stupid right now, because he's never heard any of those words before. "But you're not a spirit," he says, because that is very much the point he's stuck on right now. What else is out there...? Is he even remotely prepared?

[halfbloodhatchling]

"I'm definitely not a spirit." Kai's frowning at the idea. "Still alive." He's fought very hard for that.

And he's beginning to remember that even for him, he's being a bit rude. "My name is Kai Gracen."

[oceanschild]

"Spirits aren't... not alive." Paris isn't sure whether they consider themselves to be actually alive or not, but the 'still' confuses him. There are spirits of graveyards and things like that, but... he feels like that's not what this person means.

Of course, they accidentally completely skipped introductions, and Paris flushes. Usually he would start with that before any questions... "Paris Mercout," he says quietly, "It's nice to meet you."

[halfbloodhatchling]

This is a weird sort of dream anyway, nothing that makes sense -- definitely not a good dream but not close enough to life to be surreal, not bad enough to be a nightmare.

"Yeah, same. You make a habit of getting collared?" Might want to stop that, if so.

[oceanschild]

There's something about the question that both feels bizarrely personal and weirdly targeted, and Paris flushes. "No, that's-- this was a first. ...I think it meant they liked me?" Which was kind of nice, he likes being liked, but maybe this was not the best way to express that.

[halfbloodhatchling]

Kai's whole expression hardens, getting a stubborn set that's incredibly familiar to the people who know him. To Paris, it might just be obvious that he doesn't appreciate that answer.

"Whether they like you or not, they still won't hesitate to case you in a collar and subject you to abuse. Don't ever let that happen."

[oceanschild]

"I know, I wasn't..." Agggh why is he so bad at this. Paris just sighs. "I won't." Probably. He'll try, anyway, but he's not very good at preemptively seeing when things turn bad.

[halfbloodhatchling]

Kai sees about how far that's going to go.

"What are you going to do the next time they try?"

[oceanschild]

"Uuuh..." Paris had really been hoping he wouldn't ask. "....Run?" This is a good answer, right???

[halfbloodhatchling]

It's probably the answer that has the best chance of working, at least if Kai's initial assessment of Paris is at all accurate. But that doesn't mean it's a great answer, especially not with that uncertainty.

"Do you have a lot of practice with running for your life?"

[oceanschild]

"Not... a lot. But some." It's pretty recent experience, so maybe that means he'll remember how to do it better??

[halfbloodhatchling]

That's honestly better than Kai was expecting, although it's still not enough to put any of his concerns to rest.

"Where are you planning to run to?" Kai is picturing this is the point at which the nightmare will reveal itself, that Paris will say something about Tanic, the Wild Hunt Master of the Unsidhe, and Kai will be trapped in his own imaginings.

[oceanschild]

"...I'm not sure." Paris is not a good liar; he's not quite unable to, but honestly he's so bad at it that might as well be the case so he doesn't usually try, and there isn't much way to edge around this. "Away, I guess. Until the dream ends."