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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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This is unusual. His dreams are never like this. Something has changed. ]
I am.
[ He knows this instinctively, at least. ]
Whose dream is this?
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If she touched him, would her fingers stick...?]
Yours, and mine. It's not a good answer, but it's the only one I currently have.
I don't know the source, just that this is one of the things all mirror taken hold in common.
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... she's getting a little on his nerves with the staring. Just a little. ]
And you do not know how to leave?
[ She would indeed stick to him, probably with a few ice barbs as well. ]
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But that's not polite, even a dream. Drat her manners.]
I don't, and neither does anyone else. All we can do is wait for the cycle to end.
Death only resets us to the start of it.
I've already tried that before.
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He returns Sokie's gaze, inspecting her face. Wondering if there's anything hidden there. ]
How brave, [ he says after a moment. ] Tell me more about the cycle.
[ The game of another Fae? Or was it a price paid to consult Life and Death? There are many possibilities. ]
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How sarcastic, [She drawled. But still she kept talking with a roll of her shoulders.]
Usually it's a general location, where people move to one to the other. For example, the outskirts of a forest, into the forest itself, and then to a valley. There are other dreamers you meet at these various locations, and there is usually some element of danger involved- the pain feels real enough.
Death, intentional or accidental, takes you back to the starting location. In a way it's almost like a...video game, if you're familiar with them.
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And it will never end? We are trapped here as ghosts never to return?
[ A rather... inconvenient situation, hm. ]
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[She'll figure it out, given time. She lives with changlings after all.]
No. It'll end...in a few hours, in the waking world? It may feel longer here.
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I see.
[ Well, he's no stranger to waiting; to locking himself in crystalline stasis while he waits out the lure of Arcadia. He can wait. Just standing around is fine by him.
Raemiel isn't talkative, which means Sokie can probably ask him quite a few questions in the meantime. ]
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So...you can call me Sokie. What's your Hancock?
[She's bored. She'll badger him.]
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My name is Raemiel, [ He says after a pause, not knowing what a Hancock is. ]
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[If he keeps answering well...no reason not to keep poking him with a stick. Verbally at least.]
And what would you call yourself? As I don't recall meeting someone quite like you before, and that's more of a feat then you may realize.
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I gave you my name not a moment before, [ a sigh. ] That is who I am.
[ The only definition he needs in this strange place. ]
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But not what you are. You're not exactly the most human. Sorry, if I wasn't being clear, I was trying to be-well-polite.
[But yes, lovely name, and she meant it too!]
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I am a soul of Winter.
[ He's hesitant to reveal his true nature if it isn't absolutely necessary. ]
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[Sorry Rae, she's just. Curious and circling now, taking him in.]
So does that mean you just...spread Winter around when the seasons change, or is it something else? I could see you being a model. You'd make a great subject for artists.
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[ Another cryptic answer, but at least it tells Sokie that he doesn't model. Artistry is something he prefers to pursue by himself, for himself. There's no need to involve anyone else in his own pursuits. ]
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[Yeah sorry she's such a menace. At least she's acting very pleasant, and she's smiling.]
But you meddle in the affairs of your own kind, yes?
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Only when necessary. I do not coddle those who can handle themselves.
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Coddle, huh? You don't seem like the coddling type for anyone.
So does that mean that where you're from, you're someone with authority? Possibly when it comes to law?
[Rae: changling cop.]
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[ He's much more than that; but then again he's let the majority of the freehold think someone else was king instead. Being upfront isn't his style. ]
I am a busy person.
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[Spill!!! She wants to know!!!!]
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I patrol. And deal with any issues others might have.
[ Kingly duties. ]
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And stronger then your body seems to be. Or is it magic strength instead?
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All of my court must work for the betterment of the court itself. If anyone has issues within, or with outside agents, I will see to it.
[ This seems like it's sufficiently vague. ]
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