TDM: January

[moustre]

Test Drive: January

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 31st, with the intro log going up on February 1st. The application page can be found here. As a reminder, this will be our last uncapped application round!
• 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 Prehistoric Wilde

Thick summer heat hangs heavy over the uninfected landscape like a damp blanket, smothering. The jungle around you is thick and wet, full of the sounds of chittering animals and the high-pitched drone of insects. The flora and fauna are like nothing you've ever seen before, large and alien in colors and shapes, though they bear no signs of the Cwyld. Flowers the size of a man's head and brightly colored in rainbow hues curl their tendrils invitingly, and giant mosquitoes buzz through the air seeking a meal. You can barely see the glow of the twin moons through the thick canopy above. There are no signs of civilization - at least, not the civilization most will be used to; only the distant sound of the river, compelling you to follow its winding path. But will you go forward, or will you go back?

Rumble in the Jungle Making headway through the jungle at night is a chore. The foliage grows thick and the humid heat is oppressive for even those who enjoy the warmth. There are no clear paths here, no easy way through. The canopy of the ancient trees far, far over your head is just as dense, but the faintest moonlight filters through the holes left by the huge leaves in stippling patterns across the musty forest floor. 'Large' seems to be the theme - lining whatever path you pick your way through, there are pitcher plants massive enough to swallow a grown man, with small animals and giant insects being digested down inside the sticky liquid that fills them. The flowers are as big as a man's head, and come in a rainbow of colors, their venomous tendrils curling toward signs of life. The trunks of some of the trees are as thick as houses, and shade the ground beneath them with leaves like umbrellas. The hand-sized mosquitoes thrive in the sticky heat and if not killed first, can make off with a full pint of blood from an unsuspecting person. At some point in your journey, the ground begins to rumble beneath your feet. The farther you go, the longer you walk, the more signs of life become visible: thick, winding trails of crushed foliage, huge, animalistic footprints in the mud. Luckily, to this world, you are small and insignificant, and may escape the notice of the local Monsters - the massive, prehistoric ancestors of today's Monsters. They seem like giants, colossal Titanoboa Nagas with hollow fangs like swords, towering Fauns with the lower halves of mammoths, sabertooth Turnskins, pterodactyl Harpies with leathery wings. Even the parts of them that resemble humans (and they have far fewer human-like parts than their modern counterparts) are larger than any actual human being. They operate primarily on instinct, made even stronger by the full moons above, and perceive the strange new creatures as threats - or food. Sticking to the river seems safest - at least until you run into megalodon Merrow, singing an alien, but alluring, song to draw in prey, or the apex predator of this prehistoric world - Dragons, bigger and scalier than the ones Mirrorbound may know, stopped to drink at the river. All other Monsters flee from the huge reptiles, lest they become food themselves. Luckily you can defend yourself with your new abilities, or your neat changes - you're small, but not totally helpless. Interesting to note... while all other Monster types are represented, there are no Fae or Chimeras in the Wilde here, and the Vampires are more like huge bat-monsters that traverse the jungle on all fours than humanoid bloodsuckers.

The Natives Going backward, away from the distant sounds of the sea and against the current of the river, leads you through dense jungle. How long have you traversed the landscape? Hours? Days? Time passes funny in dreams. Eventually the trees thin out, grow taller and less leafy, and the air becomes drier. Instead of loamy soil beneath your feet, you start to feel rocky, harder earth, and spot outcroppings of stone. The sun begins to rise, which makes it easier to spot people on the horizon, a little settlement coming to life in the morning, nestled where the river forks into two. They're much hardier than the familiar people of Aefenglom, sunburned and dressed in natural, rough fabrics. Their homes, if one can call them that, are shoddy little structures made of sticks and leaves and mud, pressed up against the sturdiness of the stone formations. And, when they spot strangers approaching their village, they scramble for their weapons - crude clubs, stone axes, even just large rocks snatched up off the ground. The translation magic works on them, thankfully. Their speech is halted and simple, but they get their point across. Tell them who you are, or they'll beat your brains in. Monsters might get their brains beat in anyway if they aren't careful, even though they're much smaller than the Monsters these humans are used to. And Witches? May the gods help you if you use magic in front of these terrified, unevolved people, lest they mistake you for a Fae (the word is whispered with fear and revulsion in their voices) and swarm you with simple iron tools. If you're an actual Fae, an obvious Fae? They'll whisk their children into their huts protectively and then run you right out of the village. Violently. The truly observant, or those who can see through illusions, among you may notice something strange, though. Some Fae actually seem to live among them, heavily cloaked in natural illusions, with the primitive humans none the wiser. There are just a few, but all of them look young, twelve or thirteen at the oldest, and they are all scared of their secret coming to light. Fae who get caught tend to be burned at the stake around here.

The Invaders Perhaps you chose to go forward, with the current and toward the distant sound of ocean waves, where the river pours into the sea. More long-time residents of Aefenglom may notice that the shoreline is familiarly-shaped, but wider, bigger, not yet worn down by thousands of years of erosion. There is no bustling Harbor, only the waves crashing on the rocks, small islands dotting the water near the shore. There is no Bright Wall - there is no city, even, only an expanse of beach transitioning gently into an idyllic grove dotted with gauzy, pointed tents, and a beautiful, gilded ship half sunk into the sandy earth. It seems safer than the jungle, at first - until you notice all the Fae. They're more insectoid than the ones many are familiar with, with big, glittering eyes and either bright, jewel-toned wings like dragonflies or butterflies, or delicate, leafy wings in greens and browns. They're also taller than modern, lesser Fae, though not by much, and they're thin and angular, standing on spindly limbs that barely seem able to hold them. Characters receive a warmer welcome here, by the band of true Fae that have made their camp in the grove, though the alien-looking beings have a tendency to treat them like toys, children, or both, cooing over their sizes and their magic. "Look at the little Monsters! Aren't they cute!" "We should make some of our own! And oh, the little humans have magic! Delightful!" It's hard to have a conversation with one - they're condescending at best, and at worst, flit off to another entertainment out of boredom while you're mid-sentence. And entertainments abound in their camp. They're served and tended to like emperors by collared humans - adults and young adults do the heavy labor, including pulling grand little chariots for transportation, though there are some highly-supervised human children running about fetching drinks and fanning their Fae masters with palm leaves. Farther out, a large, deep pit has been dug out of the earth, ringed by a waist-high barrier of logs, a few Fae gathering at the barrier and leaning over, talking in conversational, happy voices. Down below, Chimera gladiators fight for their amusement, while the Fae keep up running commentary, discussing each warrior's chances, new breeding prospects, interesting crossbreeds their fellows have come up with ("She's trying an Arachne and a Turnskin together, how delightful!"). Trying to disrupt the proceedings will only result in the Fae turning their magic on you - illusions and curses, nasty little tricks. Sit down, silly little ones! The fight is just getting good! Or maybe... Maybe they'll toss you into the pit to see what your chances are in battle.

Comments

aerith gainsborough | final fantasy vii | witch

[evanescent]

sprays single solitary mosquito with entire can of bugspray: tell your friends (rumble)

[The air is heavy, oppressive, and so dense and humid that Aerith has resorted to pulling her hair back and away from where it stuck damp, against her back and neck. This does not make the air any less unpleasant, but it helps a little.

This new magic in this new world is strange and fickle, has a slippery capriciousness that she has trouble with, but she manages to get flame to sputter to life in her palms, which comes in handy when it came to navigating the winding paths of foliage in the dark. It also comes in handy when a huge, buzzing mosquito rushes directly at her face, the resonant hum of it loud enough to make her teeth chatter in her skull.

Aerith, who is not easily cowed, shrieks. And the flame in her hands becomes a proper ball of fire that she launches at the bug in a panic. The mosquito twists in the flame, agonized, then lands with a dull thump at her feet, the spindly legs twitching even as the smoking carcass begins to cool.

She bends over, hands on her knees, trying to get her heart rate to return to normal. But she barely has the time to relax when she feels the ground tremble beneath her feet, and wobbles in place before an exasperated and quiet,]

Oh, come on, [escapes her.

She hightails it to a nearby bush, but surely her little magic display (and the screaming), hasn't escaped the notice of the local and unreasonably giant fauna. Hopefully someone's around to help her out!

Hopefully.]

dire dire docks (rumble...2!)

[Though the heat has sent her hair into frizzy disarray, and she's spent the greater portion of the morning killing mosquitoes (which, despite her love of nature, she has developed a great distaste of), her eyes are bright and alert as she takes in the scenery now in the sunlight. It had been made shadowy and ominous in the night, but here and now she finds it beautiful, despite its dangers, and seems to be all unspent energy — every second her gaze turns this way, that way, she points out a plant she has not seen before or a spray of enormous, vividly colored flowers, and when she catches sight of the river proper, she gasps in delighted wonder.

Something else catches her attention though, and she frowns, thoughtful, tilting her head just so.]

Do you hear that...? It's beautiful...

[It's music, naturally, but she doesn't even wait for an answer before making her way forward.

She needs a child leash or something.]

meet me in the pit (invaders)

[Between visiting that tense and quiet village, and meeting the (condescending) Fae, it hadn't taken Aerith long to figure out what was going on, even with the reticence of the poor collared humans who seemed force to answer to the whims of their masters. So naturally, she'd said something about it. Many somethings, actually, and while the Fae had first thought her prattling amusing, it didn't take long for her to rub someone the wrong way, and so...]

Would you let go of me —! You can't just treat these people like this, I don't care who you are — oof!

[She's tossed bodily into the arena, and lands, uncomfortably, on her stomach. For a moment she lies there, blowing a bang out of her face in open irritation, and with a groan, straightens up to regard her opponent.

She is not intimidating even on a good day, but there's a stubborn set to her jaw and an expression on her face that seems to indicate that, even with this, she's ready to throw hands.

But first, she ventures, softly:]

... Do you really want to fight for their entertainment? They're a bunch of jerks.

(wildcard)

[None of these options appeal to you? Well, wildcard it on up!]

dire dire docks

[arturiarex]

[ Saber has maintained an impressive sort of passivity and cool expression, despite the utter miserableness of the climate (and the layers of cloth and armor she's wearing). Her hair is plastered to her forehead with sweat. Despite that, she's relatively glad to have found someone to travel with - even if she's not the most enthusiastic about showing it.

The fact that there's a river and running water is a revelation. What's more, maybe they can follow it to a town or city. She's about to comment as such when the song floats through the air and catches her attention. Much like Aerith, she's spellbound for a moment. ]

I do. Who could be singing all the way out here?

[ Something doesn't seem quite right, but she follows in Aerith's wake. ]

We should be cautious.

[evanescent]

I will, I will. Don't worry!

[She acknowledges the warning, but in an absent and distracted sort of way. The song is what has her attention, the haunting flow of it moving through the trees, captured on the scant traces of wind.

Saber's caution does at least keep her from rushing forward: Aerith slows some as they approach the river proper, and glances around, curious now. Wherever the music is coming from, it seems to be from the river itself, but...]

Do you see anything?

[Beneath the water, some shadow flickers oddly, but that's about all. The movement is so slight and so brief that it could easily be dismissed as a trick of the light, but the song continues, closer now and without breaks.]

[arturiarex]

[ She doesn't know Aerith and she isn't bound to her, but she feels a certain sense of responsibility for her all the same. She doesn't seem like the type to do well in the jungle, if Saber is honest. Appearances can be deceiving, though. Right now, she's focused more on that alluring sound. It's oddly entrancing and she's not sure why and that bothers her. ]

No. But it's close. I don't think-

[ She glances at the water and dismisses it after a moment. It couldn't be coming from there, could it? She eases forward a step, glancing into the greenery surrounding them. ]

Hello? Is anyone there-?

[ Apparently the Merrow thinks they're close enough, because a moment later something comes splashing out of the river at them! ]

[evanescent]

[Aerith, not necessarily possessing of a normal amount of self-preservation, nonetheless is quick to jump back when the thing emerges out of the water with a splash.

What it is is...well, she can only see the top part of it at this distance. It seems vaguely humanoid, if massive — the skin has the dark, leathery texture of a shark's, and she can see the split of gills along its neck. Stringy, wet hair falls over its broad shoulders like seaweed.

The sound it utters is haunting, and sweet — the song they'd been hearing. But Aerith doesn't like the alien strangeness of its eyes, and she definitely doesn't like the teeth she sees, needle-sharp and too numerous in its wide mouth.]

What is that...?

[Wisely, she chooses to hide behind Saber. She's brave, but she isn't stupid, and she's not the one wearing armor.]

mosquito genocide (rumble 1)

[bravers]

[Cloud, unlike Aerith, doesn't really notice the heat. It's safe to say that it affects him, most certainly it affects him, His skin is shining, his... normally distinctly pointed hair is lank and heavy, and honestly, the humidity and the closeness of the air is making it feel hard to breathe. The difference is that this sort of environment isn't really one that's that different from where he'd come from. So he can endure it. Discomfort is just discomfort.

The fauna though? Totally different. None of the long, lean and straight palm trees so abundant in Mideel are here. Instead, he's fairly confident he's never seen any of this plantlife before since, well, it's not exactly like he saw somewhere similar like Gongaga before it was a burnt out crater. Even then, he's never seen bugs like this (that weren't trying to kill him, anyway.)

Regardless.

He's been wandering around for a while. He thinks he's probably going in a single direction. ...He's unsure. Every waymark he can pick out is blending into one, and it's... probably for the best to stop. To get the stones out of his boots, if possible, to get his bearings. Wandering around for the sake of it is a guaranteed way to get your clock punched. He's done enough travelling to know that you don't just move for the sake of moving.

But there's a bright light from a few yards away, behind some overgrown ...flytrap looking things, as well as a shriek. He responds- of course he responds- moving between organic matter to take the most direct path he can. There's something... kind of slimy against his back. (Wonderful.) And some form of pollen clinging to his clothes from something else (even more wonderful.) but he reaches the clearing in give-or-take a few seconds, thanks to the incessant sound of Aerith's pipes.

He reaches back for his iron slab of a sword, and...
It's not there.
Nor's any materia.

...Wonderful.

He can't see the figure yet. But he can see a shining, beetle creature- carapace open, making a booming buzzing sound as it circles (what he wonders could be) the only other human here. He only has the time to give her a single glance.

She's wearing pink.
Just like...]

Hey!

[He doubts he can tear the thing apart with his hands. He's stronger than most, sure. But that thing's as armoured as any mech he's taken down. The creature, as oddly pretty as it is, possesses a large set of jaws too, click click clicking in the air, even above the drone of its shining wings.

...And it obviously, can't understand him. His shout is for the woman.]

Hold on a second!

[There's an abundance of slick, glossy rocks around, at least. And he's got the strength to heave up a boulder. And that's lobbed at the creature, with quite frankly, impressive accuracy. It teeters in the air, knocked off course in a sort of demented half spiral, before it comes for him.

No good deed, and all.]

[evanescent]

[The mosquitoes had been bad, but not unbearable — flame at the least stopped them dead in their tracks. This beetle, however, is gigantic, and the fire has put a dent in it, but not enough. This time, when it rushes for her, Aerith's attention is captured by the voice she hears, and so she the half-second delay between shots of flame leaves her open for an attack. She is gratefully saved when something is pitched at it, sending it careening off in an almost comical sort of spin before it rights itself and turns its attention to her would-be savior.

Which, now she's realizing, sounds familiar. Looks familiar too: even in the gloom, she recognizes the unnatural gleam of mako eyes anywhere.

But how? How could he be here, of all places?]

Cloud...?

[Surely it couldn't be him. But surely she shouldn't exist here either, cast out of the Lifestream into this alien world. Stranger things had happened, and so, illusion or not, she calls out:]

Cloud! Be careful!

[Her new magic is still hard for her to hold on to, slips out of her fingers like water, but now she focuses as much as she can, and launches a proper fireball at the beetle, pitching it like one might a baseball. It strikes true, and the furious noise that escapes the creature rattles her bones, but she holds her ground.]

Leave him alone, you...you overgrown ant!

[bravers]

[This is not the best place for a reunion. Especially one that should be far more emotional than this. But as she looks at him, he sees her too- his eyebrows lifting and a look of a pure shock coming into his eyes as he...

...He stares.
He really does. It's as if some of the pollen from before made its way into his face. His mouth is agape as if he can't properly breathe- his chest is tight- and he feels his eyes sting- the dim light given off by his mutation becoming dimmer as he feels something- water- prick at them.

But he doesn't have time. The thing careens directly toward him, and instinct, muscle memory, and something- an odd sense, an odd strength, an odd quickness, exclusive to those who had been put through what he had takes over. He holds out both of his arms and catches the creature by each mandible with both hands, clinging tight and pushing his body forward, his force against it to not yield.

If he would, what'd happen is already apparent. It's a few inches away from his face, actually. Its mouthparts are gnashing inches away, some parts of it... wriggling in anticipation for fresh, warm-blooded flesh, blood, bone, muscle and skin.]

Nng...

[He's got it. It's not going anywhere, no matter how its forelegs, easily as hard as, and about as long as, twigs bash against his forearms over and over in attempt to make him lose his grip. But he can't exactly do anything either. He can't swing it around and toss it behind him. It'll just come back, and...

...Something suddenly smells awful.

The beetle is more or less invulnerable to most things, given its exoskeleton. But carapace open, its inner parts are exposed. That's the weakness, and the weakness is suddenly set ablaze. Aerith's fireball indeed takes, and the creature shrieks a strange, high-pitched cry that's... not that dissimilar to any of the alarm sirens in Midgar. It's so high pitched, he has to grit his teeth and close his eyes tight- just to try and keep his grip.

But. Regardless, its wings- as pretty and as translucent, and as ...oddly shiny as they are, are not to be. They shortly erupt into flames. It slumps suddenly, unexpectedly, ricocheting off his chest and to the ground, still screaming, rolling around, over and over, before closing its carapace, and running off into the dense growth of the forest.]

...

[He turns to her.]

Aerith...?

[Such a dumb thing to say. Dumber, even, than comparing it to an ant. But he can't say anything else. He just... can't. This... is real, isn't it? It's not like the Sleeping Forest. He can still feel the heat on his face. He can feel the stings of cuts at his fingers from the thing's mandible.

It's real.
But how is she here?]

It's... really you, right?

[Listen. He's had a lot of delusions...]

rumble 1

[supersoldier]

[There’s never anything promising about an unbidden shriek piercing the air. It turns careful caution into blatant alarm, the sound practically ricocheting through the copse to draw the attention of everything nearby.

The low, buzzing hum of oversized insects is assailing enough on the senses. The humidity and heat is vaguely distracting, but bearable. But this is worthy of his actual attention, indicative of potential danger nearby — or so he’ll assume, not knowing that Aerith is reacting to massive mosquito and little more.

And then the rumbling starts.

Beneath his feet, vibrations shudder across the earth, heralding a true threat. Sephiroth’s gloved grip tightens around Masamune, eyes narrowing towards the nearby rustling of leaves as a figure slips through the heavy foliage nearby. A woman, harried-looking. Likely the source of that scream earlier, but the shaking terra firma is a more pressing concern.

Green eyes raise upwards, beyond the giant leaves encasing them in every direction. Sephiroth barely has time to form a question, because breaking through the alien-like flora is the head of a giant, growling chimera, its bestial features twisted into a hungry anger.

Instinct kicks in, snapping into every muscle fiber, and he digs his heels into the ground, readying himself. To Aerith, whether she listens or not, he only spares one word—]

Run.

[evanescent]

[It is not the pressing concern of the monster overhead that makes her stop dead in her tracks, but the sight of the man, like a strange, dark shadow, far more alien than the overgrown plantlife and the bizarre monster that growls at them from above. Aerith freezes. Goes stock-still really, her eyes wide, the color draining from her face.

How? How could he be here? Again?

And why was he telling her to run?

Were she in the Lifestream proper, she might be able to hide in it, coalesce into shimmering light and slip in and out of the current's of the Planet's life force until she could dodge him, as she had in the time he'd sent Geostigma to ravage those left behind on Gaia. But here she is out in the open — here there is the beast that looms above them, looking angry, looking hungry, and she finds that, for once, she has no idea what to do. She is torn between following the command and being baffled that it was given in the first place.]

What are you doing h—

[She starts, and then the chimera releases a shriek so loud that she claps her hands over her ears, stumbling back from it without thinking. She notably, does not run.]

[supersoldier]

[Orders are usually followed when he gives them, and with not a moment of hesitation in-between. But this woman, she just stands there, frozen into place by what he recognizes as fear. He’s seen it time and time again in those less trained and less acclimated to danger, the mind’s treachery turning the body useless.

And though Sephiroth’s focus is needlepoint honed-in on the monster, in his periphery, just for a moment, he thinks that she is frozen in the wake of his appearance if her words mean anything at all, more than the chimera that’s dogged her trail for the sake of an easy meal. That makes no sense to him — he’s not the one baring long fangs in a horrendous roar — but right now it’s irrelevant. The monster is a more prevalent concern.

If she won’t move, then she’s in the way. This thought that has him reaching out with his free hand, grasping her by the forearm, and tugging Aerith behind him as he steps forward; no longer an obstacle or, in a worst-case scenario, collateral damage. The roar itself barely fazes him, only drawing out a deeper frown — and when a scaly paw, claws extended, comes swiping through the leaves, Sephiroth raises Masamune at an angle to meet it.

The blade’s edge cuts clean through the fleshy underside of the paw, even as claws scrape against the steel. This is enough to discourage the creature, rearing back in another shriek, while its tail, the tip a giant snakehead, appears hissing and strikes angrily at the space uncomfortably close to where they both stand.]

dire dire docks

[aremnant]

[ Kadaj had been watching her from afar since his found himself in this forest. A curious place that has nothing to do with where he was prior to his so-called arrival and he has to wonder if this is what death and everything after it looks like. She's here after all.

Truth be told, he doesn't care to stick around here. He can feel someone else that draws him. But then she speaks- something beautiful she claims and he stops to look to her, watching as she wanders closer along the river. He tilts his head. He... can't hear what she hears and he frowns. Another flaw? Still so incomplete. ]

No. I don't. Maybe you're just... hearing things.

[evanescent]

[If she is here among the living, then she surmises it would make sense for him to be here as well — a fragment of a soul was still part of something, after all, and out of Sephiroth's remnants, he was always the strongest willed.

She's happy to see him, despite everything. It's a quiet happiness, one secret and one she will not share with him, not yet. Perhaps this world will give him the chance at humanity he was never afforded, in his unnaturally short birth and death. It had not been enough to be called living, for he had spent all his woefully short time alive sowing chaos and nothing else.

That he cannot here the song surprises her: she turns to him, her eyes wide, and tilts her head.]

No?

[It's almost concerned, though she seems less bothered at the idea that she might be hearing things, and more worried that he doesn't seem to.]

Maybe we're too far away for you to hear it. I think it's coming from the direction of the river. Do you want to walk with me?

[aremnant]

[ She... wants him to walk with her? Him. A remnant. Discarded and incomplete. Never favored nor wanted. The strongest willed and most chaotic and she wants him to walk with her.

There's uncertainty that flickers within chaotic green eyes and he stands there. Silent. ]

You trust me to?

[ He leans forward as he asks, strands of silver hair much shorter than his falling in front of his face. Eyes wide. Curious. Hopeful? A touch maybe. Feeling anything at all is still so new to him like this. His mind a constant buzzing zigzag from one extreme to the next. Yet here with her, she... calms him. Maybe. ]

Trust me to not... take off [ his mind snaps to chaotic ] rip this world apart until there's practically nothing left of it just like me. [ his mind then calms and he stares to her ] You... trust me not to?

the pit

[scatmaam]

I fight for no one's entertainment, lass...

[ The woman spoke, her tone low, and her eyes fixated elsewhere, not even paying attention to Aerith at the masked woman shifted her spear from her shoulder into a ready stance, keeping herself low to the ground. Following her line of sight, Aerith would see what the lancer was focused on...

A chimera. A big one. The might and girth of a great forest bear, the giant, hulking wings of a condor, and the snarling maw of a jungle cat. It stalked forward, dragging its chains behind it. It seemed ready to kill, whether if it was for entertainment or not, and yet...

A witch could sense it was afraid. That it was only doing this because it feared worse. And despite being a witch, the lancer seemed to know this too, with her eyes holding no malice for the beast before her. ]

... but I will fight, none the less. If you do not wish to die, I recommend staying on the sidelines.

[evanescent]

Sheesh, that's a little presumptuous of you. Just because I don't have a big scary spear like you do, doesn't mean I can't defend myself.

[Aerith says this easily, without missing a beat, and watches the chimera emerge with curiosity, though not much fear. Her brow does furrow though, her mouth pursing in clear disapproval. She is reminded, and rather unpleasantly, not of the Battle arena in her world, where combatants played in the Gold Saucer for sport and glory, but of the cold and sterile lifelessness of the Shinra laboratory, where Hojo had caged and twisted the laws of nature until they were beyond recognition.

Whatever this was, monster or otherwise, it did not deserve to die for the fickle entertainment of the malicious, condescending beings who jeered at them from above.]

It doesn't want to fight. Those creatures in the audience are just making it act this way.

[A pause, and she adds:] We should help it.

[scatmaam]

[ Well, Aerith's confidence in her retort, and her assessment of the situation, that faith in her own intuition, caught Scathach's attention. She was willing to admit she might have judged the girl too quickly. Anyone who was that certain was worth at least paying some mind to. ]

I've not much skill in pacifying, lass. I'm a warrior, body and soul. But if that's what your instincts are telling you, then I'm willing to pay mind to how you think to go about it, and offer my strength in aid of that end.

dire dire docks

[oathkeeper]

[Honestly, Sora's the last person to trust in stopping someone in being overly curious. He's here too, wondering and dazzling at the majesty of this place. He might have already eaten a flower or two (guess his monster tendencies are already showing) and collected a few curiously glowing rocks and pebbles. And he's still exploring despite the danger that might follow.

He hears a voice in the distance of the large foliage and trees and peeks his head out to try and hear what might be ahead. Music? Is that real music? But then he sees who it is and Sora's eyes go wide with surprise.]

Aerith is that you?

[She's the last person he thought he'd see here! Sora knows her as an old friend! But she'll probably think he's a total stranger...]

[evanescent]

[It's fortunate that Sora speaks up, for Aerith had been venturing further, out of the mouth of the jungle and toward the source of the strange music. She's only just taken her first step toward the shore when she hears someone say her name, and she turns, startled.

Gradually, the surprise shifts into confusion. Did she know this boy? It was a dream, she remembers, and though her nature means she travels often in the realm of dreams, she is usually in charge of how and when she appears in them — it's a choice she makes, not the other way around.

This was... really realistic.]

That's my name!

[She says, after a moment, her voice cheery. And then:] But... do I know you?

[oathkeeper]

[At first Sora thought everything in this place was all a really vivid dream as well except some things feel a little too real. Like when he caught the edge of a branch earlier and it scratched his cheek. He felt the pain! And he didn't wake up like he's supposed to from a dream. He'd even tried pinching himself and that didn't work either. Maybe he was just that exhausted?

But seeing old friends is a nice perk to a vivid dream, however real or unreal it is. But he's a little confused when she asks who he is?]

Huh? It's me, Sora! Are you doing okay out here, Aerith? There's a lot of crazy things out here.

[He pushes another big leaf away and comes out into the clearing where she is. He's an average looking teenage boy with spiky brunette hair that could rival Cloud's style.]

dire docks

[contextualist]

Yes.. it is.

[ despite his phrasing, he doesn't seem all too impressed, no. he doesn't even look up to take a peek at the river. instead, he's lost in drawing, connecting ink to paper. the ferocious sound of the pen's tip on parchment is squeaky and sonorous, being just audible between sounds of crashing rapids.

rohan is sitting atop a rock overlooking the riverside. it's a great vantage point, from a 9 o'clock angle. it's picturesque, even. once he stops sketching, he peers at aerith, giving her a look up and down, then returns to his piece. ]

You don't suppose you would want to stand in front of it? You're well-suited for something like this.

[evanescent]

[Luckily, the voice is enough to make her stop, and she blinks hard for a few moments, rubs at her eyes, as if she's just woken from some deep sleep.

How strange. She'd barely realized that she'd made it to the shore, and takes a few steps back, until her feet are on dry ground, rather than damp earth. From there, she looks for the source of the second voice, and sees him — perched on a rock in the distance. What was he doing? Writing? Drawing?]

I'm sorry?

[Her brow furrows.]

Well-suited for what?

rumble 1

[getting_better]

[He'll apologize to her later. He will, really. Just as soon as he finishes this one-on-one with a titanboa naga.

They combatants don't enter her neck of the jungle so much as they crash through, hissing and screeching as it tried to reach and pry Bishop off it's back, the person in question hanging on by the handle of his katana which is buried deep in it's shoulder with the tip coming out the otherside.

The creature thrashes about before suddenly diving to the ground which does knock him off with a loud grunt of pain, but he's quickly back to his feet, katana raised and ready to react to whatever may come. The naga strikes again with a speed that betrays it's size but Bishop manages to dodge it somehow and slash it across its side and take a few leaps backward right in front of the bush she's hiding in.

A quick look back to scan his surroundings while the naga is reeling and his expression tightens when he spots Aerith. This made fighting this thing that much harder.]

Run! I'll hold it off!

[How he'll do that, well, he'll figure it out. He charged for the naga, jumping up then running on it's thick tail then taking a swipe at it's arm, the beast roaring with pain.]

[evanescent]

[Out of the things she's expecting, a guy hanging off a snake creature by a sword is not one of them. She does not run, though it would likely be the wise thing to do. Instead she straightens up from her hiding place, searches for an opening, and —

For a moment, the sky overhead turns dark and churning, the smell of ozone filling the air. A bolt of lightning comes crackling down out of nowhere to land in a jagged arc in between the naga and Bishop, and Aerith raises her arm, swoops down, and sends another, this time closer to the naga, which winds backward to avoid it.

Aerith's expression is serious and focused, and she speaks up, after a moment:] It's going to kill you if you fight it alone!

[getting_better]

[The lightning bolts coming down twice was a surprise but not one he's going to question or reject. Still, it barely helps their situation, just gave the naga one more thing to be angry about. The lightning gives him some breathing room, gaining some distance from the naga as he stands before it and Aerith with his sword raised and pointed at the beast.

Aerith was right to some degree though, if he fights this thing alone he wouldn't just walk away but he will be alive. Just, varying levels of not okay.]

If we stay here it's going to kill us anyway!

[He takes a look around, his sword still pointed at the naga who hissed angrily at the two.]

Behind us, about two or three yards, there're some heavy looking trees toppled on top of each other. See the little triangle hole they made? It about big enough for a person to slip through. On my go we run towards them and through the hole, get this thing stuck in between em', then I can end it. Got it?

[That last bit was rhetorical as he started to reach behind him and grasped the handle of his gun, counting to three, then draws it.] Go! [He fires two shots aimed right at the naga's face, and while both met it's mark with pin point accuracy, the thick scales and hide block it and only served to temporarily blind it. And make it even angrier.]

Run! Run and don't look back!