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TDM: January
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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.With that taken care of...
• 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. |
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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?
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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?
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Is that what you want to do, to hurt this world? [She allows the question to linger, and then adds:] It seems like a waste to me. I think that you'd be better off exploring it, that's all.
You can stay here too, if you'd like. It's your choice.
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So he stands there in silence, green eyes staring to her before he tilts his head... then smiles a little. ]
If it's an adventure you want, why didn't you say so?
[ Maybe it's her choice to explore that she offers to him and not one he came up with on his own, but. He decides to take it. Decides to come closer. Decides to smile a little before he looks ahead. ]
Ladies first. [ Except he steps ahead first. ] But there might be dangerous things here. So. I'll go first then.
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"Ladies first," makes her smile widen a fraction, despite the precariousness of the situation — this was a careful sort of interaction she was partaking in. She would need to be cautious. Still. He seems less dangerous like this. Not as angry. In the moments before she'd guided him into the Lifestream, he'd seemed so lost, much like a child, and it is this memory she recalls now.]
Alright. I'll let you lead the way. [She falls in step behind him, her hands laced behind her back, and adds:] But don't rush in if there is danger, alright? I don't want you to get hurt either.
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She's worried about him? But... why? He's nothing. No one. Incomplete in so many ways. A puppet as he had been called. Only to serve Mother. Only to be something for him. So... why care? Why feel concern for someone who doesn't even matter?
He reached for her... didn't he? He called to her. Thinking her to be...
He stops. Spinning around to look back to her and just... stares. It comes back to him. A rush of memories and feelings and so much he didn't understand as he stares to her. He never knew the state of Mother. Never knew anything beyond the need to please her. To find her and bring her back to the Planet. But standing here with her. Listening to the way she cares about what happens to him- HIM of all incomplete things who was not favored like he was...
He stands there, seeming confused for a long moment and he almost hesitates before he looks away, only to look back to her out of the corner of his eye. Mother? ]
Why...?
[ The word is soft and the question genuine, he truly... doesn't understand. He's not him, so why care? ]
You like him more, don't you? [ Peeking through the silver of his hair. ] Sephiroth.
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What a question. Aerith very near falters as they continue to walk, finds her balance again after a few moments. Did he really think she was his Mother? Jenova? No... Jenova was not anyone's mother, nothing more than a parasite, a disease that preyed on the Planet and everything on it.
Aerith thinks of the woman she had met in her travels along the Lifestream, how melancholy and regretful she'd been, but of course, Sephiroth would not have known her. Hojo had made sure of that. And so naturally, his Remnant wouldn't either.
... It's sad. That his only reference for motherhood was the few, scant moments of comfort she had given him, and so she realizes that she needs to be careful, in what she says next.]
It's only natural to be worried for you. You went through a lot, didn't you?
[Her brow furrows some.]
Try not to think about him for right now.
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I can't not think about him. [ He laughs but it's hollow. ] I feel him.
[ He always has. Since he took his first breath of life in that black pond which gave birth to him, he's felt him. He still does now, doesn't he? Or are those merely shadows across his mind - his heart? - that are ghosts which now linger from a life he no longer has? A life where everything had led to that moment against his dear big brother. Cloud. To allow Sephiroth to claim him as he did and for Cloud to defeat him yet again.
It's funny, isn't it? That's all he had been good for. A puppet. That's all Mother had wanted him to do. To be. So he looks to Aerith with confusion because she cares. She cares? Shows concern for him and he just... doesn't understand why. ]
But you called to me. Like this song calls to you.
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[She sounds genuinely regretful.] But you know, just because you're a part of something, it doesn't mean that you aren't you, either. That's what I think.
That's why I called to you. No one deserves...
[A pause. She looks down, her expression strange and faraway.] No one deserves to die thinking that they're nothing. I think you're someone, Kadaj. I hope that you'll think so too, one day.
[She looks as if she might reach for his arm, but hesitates, pulls back.]
... You don't hear it yet? The song?
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He seems hopeful for a moment- genuinely. To be so insecure about Mother and her favoritism towards him... had he been wrong? She seems so much more... warm than he thought. She says he's a part of something. A part of something that doesn't concern him! ...and that confuses him a little. His mind trying to make sense of that when he had been searching for her. Yet even when he found part of her... he didn't know what to do. He still doesn't know what to do. A remnant wouldn't really know, right? But he just wants to be favored, too. Wants someone to favor him so badly.
But when she mentions the song again, his eyes blink and he looks around from where he stands. Slow. Careful. Before he looks back to her. ]
Stay with me, Mother. Don't follow that song. They could take you away again.
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She supposes she should have expected that, but it still throws her, all the same. She studies him, questioningly, and for a moment the song that weaves in and out of her mind is forgotten in favor of this new curiosity.]
I'm not —
[She starts, and then sighs. Maybe she was. Sort of. He had been birthed by dark water, in a wound in the earth, but Lifestream comprised some of him, those discarded memories of Sephiroth's, left to coalesce in the shimmering light that she oversaw now. And she had welcomed Kadaj back into it, so...
She was a little responsible, at least. Wasn't she? It was pretty complicated.]
I won't. I'd like us to go together, though. I want to be sure whatever it is isn't in trouble, or...
Or hurting someone. You're strong, I know. But there are some people who may not be.
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I'm strong thanks to you! You're the one who saved me, Mother.
[ Who called out to him as he called out to her in Cloud's arms. ]
We'll go together then. I won't let anything happen to you.
[ He'll show you how strong he can be, Mother. ]
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She can't just leave him all alone.]
Alright. Then I'll count on you, okay?
[The river comes into sight not long after, at a distance from the sloping path they're walking on but clear enough to get a visual. And what she sees is...
Well, nothing, really. A dark, placid stretch of water, teeming with life. Those awful mosquitoes, the strange, half-scaled birds that swoop down to eat them, the humming sound of other insect-life, and...
The song is louder now. It reverberates in her skull, almost, and she walks unsteadily forward. There's something wrong. She tries to dig in her heels, but only continues to walk.]
The song —
[She sounds dazed.]
It's... it's strange.
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So he follows, leafy greens crunching beneath black boots as he goes, keeping an eye on everything around them as their adventure together continues down this path Aerith has chosen for them. He doesn't know this place... doesn't recognize any of it and so he feels uncertain with hat to expect. Where to go. It's just him without Loz or Yazoo.
But then Aerith speaks and he turns to look to her, hears the daze in her voice and, with a breath of confusion, he reaches out to take hold of her wrist. He wants to keep her here. ]
I told you not to go ahead, Mother. What if they mean to trick you? To take you away?
[ From me. ]
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Oh... I know, I know.
[Said in a murmur. Aerith looks to him, then to the shore, which seems to have snuck up on her. Had she walked this far ahead without noticing?
The song pauses, then returns again, has the gentle, sloping notes of waves ebbing and rising, and now Aerith's gaze narrows in disapproval.]
Whatever it is — I don't think it's friendly.
[Something moves beneath the surface of the water, some dark sinuous shape that stops just before the water hits the shore.]
It's waiting for us.