dagung | TDM: January

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* tdm

TDM: January

Test Drive: January

All threads can be considered game canon,

the prompts and test drive itself will be

• 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!

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm not sure what species it is but it has to be.

[She knows better than to get closer to it. Even with it being her favorite plant. After all, plants doesn't always recognize the difference between good and bad creatures. So that means it would just eat what it could.

Best they keep to themselves.]

They'll have liquid in the bell that can dissolve creatures so they can get the nutrients. It's probably special since they're so big.

[For a change she's talking with some confidence. Then again, this is a subject she's something of an expert on. But, of course, it dawns on her that Hubert didn't ask for any of this information.]

Ahhh! I'm sorry! I'm just blabbering! Stupid Bernie! He didn't ask for that!

[She's gotten better compared to her teenage years but some habits die hard.]

[He listens quietly, faintly able to see the darker shadows within the bell where the plant had already claimed some victims. Even from their distance, he can detect a faint, cloying smell in the air. A lure, he thinks.]

[Hubert chuckles lightly again.] Nor did I ask you to stop. I appreciate knowledge, Bernadetta—especially if it might prove useful.

[You know, like if these things could prove a threat at this size. Hubert steps out into a patch of moonlight, a gap in the canopy overhead. The shadow-spider skitters along the edge of it, keeping as best a watch as it can.]

Or would you rather hold your tongue, knowing one of these predatory flora might one day get the better of me?

No, no, no! I want to be useful, I promise!

[Ohhh. Now she's really messed up. It's true, he would have told her to stop. Hubert doesn't put up with nonsense. If it's not useful then he doesn't want to know about it!

She takes a couple exaggerated breaths to try and calm her pounding heart down.]

Th-the scent is a lure. For prey. So we should avoid getting close.

[There! She's trying. He probably already knew that though. Oh why is she telling him something he already knows!]

[That was probably cruel of him. Still, she has to learn somehow, and while Hubert is more mindful around her, he refuses to baby the other general.]

That would be pru—

[He hears the whistle of wings too late, and his conjured shadow hadn't been watching above the canopy; a pterodactyl harpy dives through the opening in the canopy to snag Hubert right out of the clearing, and starts to take skyward with a screech.]

[His stomach plummets when his feet leave the ground, reflexively grasping at the predator's legs to hold on.]

[Her instincts are as sharp as ever when she's in a panic. Hubert is taken into the sky and that arrow of hers is ready. Up into the air she aims and she releases the arrow. It pierces the wing to force the harpy to have to land, Bernadetta already rushing that direction.]

Hubert!

[There's tears in the corners of her eyes but it's not for the reasons one might think. This isn't about fear. This is instead about...]

I should have been faster. Stupid, stupid! You should have had the bow up, Bernie! Now he's going to be hurt and it's going to be all your fault! Stupid!

[For once, it's Hubert's turn to be the one full of panic; by the time he's gotten enough of his thoughts in order to do something about his situation, the prehistory harpy's already screeching and struggling to stay in the air with its pierced wing, and the ground's now coming back up at him erratically and alarmingly. Fear clutches at his heart all over again.]

[Meanwhile, his shadow-spider races along with Bernadetta, weaving easily through the thick foliage. The giant harpy crashes back into the trees graceless, Hubert grunting as he doubles over a branch. Clinging desperately to that branch is all he can do for the moment; one of those rainbow flowers with the venomous tendrils have latched onto the harpy's neck, and it's thrashing was shaking the tree.]

[There's suddenly a look on Hubert's face and in his posture that she recognizes. It's...fear. Is he scared of heights? She doesn't think on it too long because she's busy readying another arrow. This one she aims at a branch the harpy is caught on. Taking a deep breath, she pulls back on the string a little harder to add some more power to it.

It releases to cause the branch to snap and knock the harpy towards the tentacle grabbing it. Shouldering her bow, she swallows down her own terror, ignores the tears on her cheeks, and climbs the tree. Well, more like "climbs" the tree. She's stumbling and fumbling and not able to do this well at all. It's not like she has a lot of outdoor experience.]

H-hold on! I'll...I'll get you down!

[How she's supposed to do that when she's tiny in comparison to him is actually not something she's thought through it. All she wants to do is get Hubert down on the ground again.

Hissing as she cuts her leg on a branch, she keeps pushing herself.]

Come on, Bernie. You can't be a coward now. He needs you more than your wish for your room does!

[Getting down from here would be wonderful, and Hubert should probably be making this easier for Bernie. Goddess, though, this whole situation was mortifying.]

I'm not going anywhere. [It's all he can manage, his voice a little tight. He experimentally tries to sidle along the branch, but something in his stomach lurches again, and the mage goes still once more.]

[Hubert appreciates her urgency, with what little emotional capacity he could spare. The harpy, at least, he could see going increasingly still as the flower's poisoned vines secured their noxious grip. That shouldn't be a threat anymore.]

[And the shadow spider ghosts next to Bernadetta, seemingly to offer its back or legs as footholds to help her climb. Despite its appearance, it's solid, and a little cold to the touch.]

[Bernadetta appreciates the help of the shadow spider, letting it help her up without being bothered by the cold. Instead, she focuses on her terrible attempt to climb a tree. Honestly her body aches from the effort and her face is a mess from the tears but she still keeps going.

After what seems like forever, to Bernie anyway, she gets up to his height and plops herself on the branch with him. Panting hard, she reaches out to touch his hand.]

Um...

[How do they get down now? She looks to the spider then back to Hubert.]

Can you reach Webby?

[Apparently Bernadetta has named the shadow spider. No one asked this of her but here it is. You're welcome.]

[......Webby? No. That's not important.]

I should be able to.

[Somehow, he manages to keep his composure, even if Hubert looks even paler than he normally is. The touch on his hand, even blunted by his glove, gives him something else to focus on and ground the frantic beat of his heart. Damned Monster, putting him in this situation in the first place.]

[...No, that isn't quite right, either.]

[Webby scuttles over, seeming sensing that it was needed. Carefully, inch by cautious inch, Hubert scoots along the branch, reaching out for the conjuration once it was in reach. While Webby waited, the creature begun spinning silk, wrapping it around Hubert's wrist like a lifeline.]

My apologies, Bernadetta. I was careless. For me to be caught like that, after warning you to stay vigilant...

[Under his composure, there is a whole boat of embarrassment.]

I promise I won't tell anyone!

[Bernadetta waves her hands before shifting to climb onto Webby with Hubert. Even though it's apparently magic he's doing, she still gives the spider head a pat before wrapping her arms around the older man. Only a little to soothe her own pounding heart. Because she's worried about him. That kind of fear...]

Not a single person. I swear it.

[His moment of utter fear and being caught off guard? Those will never leave her. They could torture her and she'd never say it to another soul!]

[Hubert goes statue-still when Bernadetta embraces him. Was she... hugging him? Him, the menace that she once routinely fled from, and even still shook before?]

[That seemed unlikely. Hubert hadn't exactly designed this spider for two riders (or one at all) when he conjured it. It's hardly as stable as a horse. That must be it.]

...My thanks. [That said, he's still not entirely sure what to think about the resolute shift in Bernadetta's tone. It seemed important to her, somehow.] Under normal circumstances, I hardly care what others think of me, but this could be used against me.

[And down Webby goes! Carefully. It's hard for the beast to stay level during a vertical climb.]

[She's finding it really hard to be scared of someone she just saw such utter terror from. Honestly, she's even forgetting that she herself just went out of her way to rescue him. All she knows is that she wants to make sure he's safe. That his secret is kept secret.]

No one will ever get it out of me. I'll die before I tell.

[Because who would Hubert be if he wasn't terrifying? The object of such utter fear for so many? No. Bernie won't let some fear of heights take that from him.

She's seen an utter weakness of his, something she never thought she'd be witness to. Now, she plans to go to her grave to protect what she's seen.

Never mind that literally no one asked her to do this.]

[Hubert doesn't relax at all, remaining awkwardly still and stiff in the hug as if he didn't know how to respond. And truthfully, he's baffled by it, and a little uncomfortable with the attention on him. The mage received comfort as poorly as he wore praise.]

There's... no need for it to come to that, I assure you.

[But he appreciates it, somewhere under his silent mortification, anyway. He clears his throat as Webby carefully settles on the loamy ground.]

You're bleeding. Let me tend to it, before another predator notices. [Oh look, a convenient way to deflect the attention from himself!]

[Once on the ground, she lets go of him. Partially because she doesn't need to be stable anymore and partially because they're back where it's safe for him. Letting out a breath, she puts her hands on her knees as she lets all of what just happened catch up to her.]

I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I did that. I can't...huh?

[He mentions that she's bleeding and she looks down at her leg. Some of the blood has dried but it is still bleeding a little bit.]

Oh no. I must have gotten scratched on the tree!

It's a simple matter to tend to.

[Hubert starts to crouch to heal the wound, but pauses, pulling out a handkerchief and impassively offering it to Bernadetta. She was still a tear-streaked mess.]

For your face.

[Seeing him actually kneel down to look at her leg? That is too much. She flails her hands about immediately.]

Y-y-y-you don't have to do that! I'm fine! I can clean it up!

[The flailing results in her accidentally smacking his hand and then upsetting her balance and then...

Yeah. She lands on her butt with a soft cry as she lands on a branch.]

[...]

[He's glad to see Bernadetta, and glad to see her well, but... just...]

[ S i g h . ]

I have my magic, Bernadetta. It's no trouble to heal something so minor. I implore you, quiet down lest something else hear you.

Ouch...

[It's hard to resist the urge to rub where she fell on the branch but somehow she manages not to.]

I forgot about magic...

[He's not even going to wait for her to take the handkerchief for her face. With a murmured word, it simply starts floating within reach. Turning his attention back to the scratch...]

[It isn't bad. Bloody, and could get infected with Goddess knows what if this weren't a dream, but minor. Wordlessly he reaches out a hand, hovering it over the wound, and begins murmuring something under his breath until it closes.

[The handkerchief is...floating. That's enough to distract her into sitting still as he takes care of her cut, eventually reaching out to take the cloth and wipe her face clean. At least as clean as she can. There's no mirror here.]

Thank you. I'll repay you somehow, I promise. I know I'm in your debt now.

[That's...definitely how it works. Right?]

All I ask is that you think nothing of it.

[She isn't Lorenz, whom Hubert definitely leveraged into his debt. Besides, she'd just done him a great favor. Hubert stands, curtly brushing the dirt from his knees, and he glances about cautiously.]

[Webby idly shifts on its little shadowy feet.]

[Getting to her feet, she carefully folds the handkerchief before starting to offer it to him. Only to stop and then look determined.]

I'll clean it. That way you won't have a dirty one.

[Slipping it away, she goes over to the spider and pets its head.]

Thank you for helping me, Webby.

[It might be a conjuration of his magic but this is now just her friend. And super cute.]

[Webby clicks in response. What does that mean in conjured shadow spider? No one knows.]

[Hubert's subtle smile edges slightly wider. He always felt an odd little surge of approval when Bernadetta asserted herself, having seen the progress she's made in the last five years.]

Very well. If you insist. [Whatever good cleaning the dream-handkerchief will do, but hey, he's not going to discourage her determination.] Shall we carry on?

Yes. Um...maybe where there's more branches?

[She points in the direction of some heavier foliage. It'll be harder for them to walk through but it'll also mean it's harder for harpies to stretch wings.]

If you think it's a good idea.

[He's way smarter than she is. She knows that.]

TDM: January

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no lie...I'm laughing that the spider is just accepted as Webby now

Hubert doesn't name shit, he hasn't even named the familiar he's had for four months

Hubert...she's going to name your familiar

if only he knew the danger

scary scary Hubert walking around with a familiar now named Fluffers or something like that

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