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.

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[Before answering, Leslie actually takes a quick look around, missing the meaning of "do you have any caretakers with you." Sure, in the real world, she only goes outside the mansion with one of the Salvatore family around, but this is a dream. She's often alone in dreams.]

[Having satisfied herself that she is, in fact, otherwise alone, she looks back up at the man.]

Other than for you, yes. I don't really think about people when I think what it must be like in a forest, so I must have only dreamed about you.

[1) She does not know what a jungle is and 2) she assumes that a dream means she's the one dreaming it and her alone. She's not sure where she came up with this man, but dreams are sometimes inexplicable.]

[It's an honest answer, that much is clear. A child might lie about having someone with them, but they would be unlikely to lie about being alone. But the way she indicates she's alone is a bit...odd, even under the current circumstances. Rather than someone looking after her, she seems to be answering a little more concretely for the present moment. Which, Ozymandias supposes, if he were to be exceptionally generous, there is a way in which he could see his question being interpreted that way.]

[No matter. Whether or not this girl has a guardian is a bit of a moot point if she's out in this jungle by herself.]

[Ozymandias crouches down to her level, letting his scepter rest against his shoulder. He considers it a moment, telling her the truth, and that he is also a dreamer instead of a product of her sleeping mind. But he does not know if she would believe him or if it would only serve to frighten her. So, he decides to play along.]

That must be so, [he says with a slight nod.] I suppose I am meant to look after you and help you. What do you think?

[It has happened far more in recent weeks than usual, but it's still a strange thing to her to see an adult getting down to her level for the sake of making her more comfortable. The gesture makes her smile.]

[Rather than directly respond to his question, she returns it with a question of her own:]

Would that be okay? It wouldn't be a bother?

[Leslie thinks that Ozymandias is a figment of her imagination in a dream, and she's still worried about forcing him to do something he doesn't want to do, even though he was the one to suggest it.]

[Ozymandias chuckles warmly at her consideration. He thinks it's likely only a child would take into account the feelings of someone she believes she dreamed into existence, but even so, it speaks to a gentle heart.]

I would not offer if I was not willing. You have my word that no harm will befall you while you are in my care. All I ask for in return is that you try to remain within my sight.

[He extends a hand to her.]

Do we have an agreement?

[Leslie's smile widens as she reaches out to take the offered hand, but she is clearly also trying to look like she is taking this seriously at the same time.]

Yes. I agree to these terms. ...There's no reason for me not to accept when you're making such a generous offer.

[She attempts to give a firm handshake, but she is small and has barely any physical strength, so that's only relatively speaking.]

My name is Leslie. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[Ozymandias refrains from laughing at the seriousness with which she takes this arrangement, and instead privately commends her for it. He is sure, however, to be gentle in his own handshake. Her hand is much smaller in his, and there's no sense in crushing it.]

I am Pharaoh Ozymandias. You may call me Ozymandias. Or Ramesses, if that is easier for you to pronounce.

[He would normally not offer his birth name, but after so many complaints that Ozymandias is a mouthful and a desire to avoid being called "Ozy" by yet another person... He'll allow this child to call him by such a familiar name. He also spares her his numerous titles.]

[Since Leslie was only taught the history of her own nation, even if pharaoh's exist in her world, she has never heard of them. The conclusion she comes to is that Ozymandias is his family name and Pharaoh is his given name. When he says she can call him Ramesses, she shakes her head vigorously.]

No. It feels bad to be called by a name you don't want people to use for you. I'll be sure to call you Ossyma --

[She makes a face. That's definitely not it.]

Ozymand...Ozymundi...Oz - y - mand - i - as. [She's blushing as she keeps tripping up, but she also looks very determined to get it right.] Ozymandas. ...Ozymandias.

[Okay, now she's just blushing.]

It might take me some practice, though.

[Ozymandias doesn't interrupt as she fumbles her way through finding the correct pronunciation of his name, uncertain if she will eventually give up and take the out he's giving her or continue to push through. The more attempts -- regardless of how poor they are -- draws a wider smile out of Ozymandias as it becomes more and more apparent she won't give up.]

Very good! [Her efforts also earn her a gentle pat atop of her head.] I'm sure you will have it mastered in no time.

Now then... [Ozymandias rises back to his feet, pausing a moment to glance about the jungle around them. It seems unlikely that much of anything could really sneak up on them given the size of the creatures that wander here, but the abilities of predators should never really be questioned or doubted.] I believe I heard some water nearby. We should get you cleaned up.

[He nods down to her very muddy feet.]

[The reassurances help a bit with the embarrassment and she smiles a little. Then, when he points out the mud on her feet, she tries to cover a giggle with her hand.]

I knew that my feet would get a little dirty since I'm outdoors without shoes, but I never thought it would stick this much.

[She herself doesn't look around as she gets ready to follow him in the direction of the sound of water. At this point in her dream, she hasn't been attacked by mosquitoes and she hasn't been rescued from dragons, so all she has to rely on is her own prior knowledge about the dangers of being in nature. Too bad this bank of ecological knowledge is basically empty.]

[Ozymandias leads the way, but does not walk so quickly that she must scurry to keep pace, allowing it to be a somewhat leisurely stroll towards the river.]

How unfortunate that you did not dream yourself wearing a pair of shoes then, [Ozymandias says with a soft laugh.] Your feet do not hurt from walking around yet?

[She can recognize that he has almost certainly adjusted his pace for her, and it’s especially appreciated in this jungle undergrowth. Leslie has very rarely walked on things that aren’t human constructed.]

They hurt a little, since I’m not used to walking without anything on my feet except if I have to get up in the middle of the night. But they’ll be fine in the morning, since this is a dream, so I’d much rather worry about seeing everything around here than my feet.

[He hums in light approval. Even without knowing what exactly life is like for her in the waking world, he has trouble imagining that it looks anything like the world around them does now. So, she makes a fair enough argument.]

Well, you should be sure to inform me if they hurt too much to continue walking. I would not want you to miss out on anything simply because you couldn't take another step.

[She nods firmly.]

Yes, Mr.... [give her a moment to get a mental run up to his name] Ozymandias! I'll be careful. I don't want to miss getting to look around this place before I wake up! Have you ever seen anything like it?

[As with her stumbling over his name, Ozymandias is patient in letting Leslie work it out for herself. He smiles, quite pleased with how quickly she manages to get it right this time. To her question, he shakes his head.]

No, I've spent most of my life in cities. [Granted those cities have been in vastly different locations, but that is neither here nor there as far as the truth is concerned. And it probably would not do to tell her more than that lest it proves upsetting to her.] Even with what greenery there has been in those cities, none have grown to quite the size of these.

So you're like me!

[Her excitement continues into this discovery that they can share these new things together, though frankly she would also have been excited to learn that he has seen things like this and could explain them to her.]

I've seen trees out the window of a carriage before, but being up close is a lot different from what I imagined! None of the trees I'd seen before were anywhere near the size of these ones, either, but even so, there are some things that might be the same. Like with the leaves. The material looks kind of the same from what I saw back home, a little.

[One would not assume it possible to be this excited over trees, but she seems to make it entirely so. Ozymandias listens as she talks, making the comparisons between what she knows in her world to what she's found here thus far.]

Are you familiar with deserts?

[She could see some trees distantly from the window of her attic room in her childhood, so she spent a fair amount of time theorizing what they might be like without much information to go on.]

I haven't seen one before. But I do know that they're very dry and it's difficult to get an army across them.

[i.e. she's read about them in official histories of the continent that liked talking about military actions. What a nerd.]

[Whoa, nerd alert!!]

[But actually, Ozymandias doesn't entirely disapprove of that. Despite his very, uh, jock-ish tendencies, he does actually have a great appreciation for intelligence. Even if he's fairly certain none can match his own.]

It's difficult for those who do not live there, [he corrects.] My kingdom once laid within a desert, but we lived along the life-giving Nile River. That was where most of our trees grew. Children little older than you would learn to climb them to help their parents in collecting dates.

So deserts don’t have to be completely without water for the rest of it to be still a desert. And then you could irrigate crops as a food source while still being close enough to the desert to learn how to move safely in the desert. Did you cultivate the...date trees, or did they grow there on their own?

[...Wait a second. Children older than her? So he meant she was still a child with some time left to go. Had he mistaken her for much younger than she is, like when Sir Bethrion met her?]

But I’m already twelve. I’m not a child.

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TDM: January

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quickly skims the comic to make sure Leslie knows what a handshake is

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