dagung | TDM: January

Entry tags:

* 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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[The truth is, despite her actions, her heart is pounding in her ears, nearly drowning out the beast's frustrated struggle to pierce her shield with it's dull and constant ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. Her mind churns with thoughts and plans of what to do if the creature doesn't lose interest as she hopes it does, imagining and discarding possibilities between every passing heartbeat. They need to run, she thinks - Courage has never been her virtue, and fighting that thing off is absolutely out of the question - but to do so now would mean exposing them and dropping her concentration on the barrier offering them short-term safety, a risk she's not willing to take after getting this far.

Damn it, at least the ice of Zora's Domain didn't threaten to swallow her up as she drew Ruto out of it! But, so caught up in her own head with their predicament, she doesn't realize until she feels a cool hand upon her wrist that the girl has her own ideas about what to do next. The energy that flows towards her is slight, a thin thread of barely nurtured magic. And yet... it resonates with her own in a way she's never experienced with any other she's collaborated with, like twin bells ringing in perfect harmony. The barrier shines a little brighter with it; the effort to keep it up under the merrow's assault that much lesser, allowing her to feel like she can maybe breathe without the whole thing falling apart around them.

It grows quiet. She distantly hears something like a tiny splash behind her, and she chances a glance to see nothing but the river flowing by, undisturbed. She waits one, two, three moments more before finally allowing her shield to drop, hefting the girl to her feet and quickly pulling her further into the relative safety of the jungle. Only once there are plenty of trees between them and the river bank does she stop and let the girl go, sagging against a nearby sturdy trunk as the adrenaline gradually leaves her system.]

Goddesses above, if I should ever see another beast like that, it will be too soon. [She sighs, running a hand through her hair, now slick and tangled with sweat and dirt. When she looks back at the girl, her eyes land briefly on her long ears, lingering there a moment before finding her face. She has no reason to think she's Hylian, not yet.] Are you hurt?

[ Dripping wet as she is, it must be no easy feat to drag Zelda to a dry corner of the bank, away from the water. The moment might be gone, but the adrenaline that resides in her body is pumping away like a tap left forgotten. Her back collides with dirt and tree shards and leaves and probably a few bugs, too. Exhausted, Zelda lays there and counts the stars for a moment to relax, to bring herself back to the ground as the realization of certain death being narrowly avoided has left her.

As it does, the hand Zelda had placed upon the other blonde's wrist tingles with the recollection of the energy they had momentarily shared. Shared, traded, remembered, discovered— she thinks that she could call it a lot. It brings her back to the forest, running to the castle in the hopes of confronting Ganon with little else but the Master Sword. At the time, her powers had not awakened, leaving her a sitting duck. She was nothing more at the time than the princess of Hyrule, and while that held weight... Did Ganon care? Would that save her people? What had drawn her powers out had been her knight, for the two of them had built a bridge between them, one based on understanding and empathy. In the moment, when that Guardian had been disintegrated by her, she had felt something...

Something similar.

Her chest rises and falls rhythmically. Her eyes are closed. She could be asleep, passed out thanks to all the dramatics of the evening. Eventually, when she hears the woman slide down a tree, the sound of fabric dragging against bark, Zelda turns her head to look over her. There's similarities, for sure, but she thinks she has her mother's eyes. ]

...I'm fine.

[ That kindness she had felt from Link warms her chest again. Perhaps it is understanding and empathy, again. ]

It was... my own foolishness. I admit that, and apologize.

[ But she rises, pulling herself up on her elbows. ] Did you feel that?

You need not apologize. Dream this may be, I am still thankful to avoid witnessing a tragedy.

[She doesn't imagine dying in this place is pleasant, even if it isn't permanent, nor is she in any hurry to confirm those suspicions.

... The girl is studying her, though. Exhausted as she might be, she can still tell that much as their eyes finally meet without the specter of death breathing down their necks. The question is... what does she see? What is she looking for? The ancient princess has been in Aefenglom long enough to know that the long, pointed ears of the Hylians are not unique to them across all the worlds connected by the Looking Glass Mirror, and she's suffered enough of homesickness to not want to open herself up to more by hoping.

But the girl is studying her, and asking her a question, and she has to admit--]

... Yes, I did.

[It would be foolish to blind herself to the obvious, especially if the girl felt the same odd sensation that somehow transcends description. But that doesn't mean she jumps into the unknown all bright eyed and bushy-tailed; a certain melancholy wariness flickers around the edges of her serious expression as she looks back to the girl she plucked out of the river and asks her own question:]

Tell me... does the word "Hyrule" have any meaning to you?

[ Study her as she does, Zelda can't shake the feeling that the comment is true and yet some sort of remark against her. If you were to ask an unrelated party about what would have happened to her without the woman's intervention, surely the answer would be obvious. Still, the idea of amounting to a "tragedy" stirs something in her. She's grateful, but her own bitterness towards herself rears it's head like a particularly ugly monster. Zelda purses her lips, suddenly concerned with the dirt and twigs beneath them. Her green gaze breaks the stare they share, but she does not clock out of their conversation.

In her own case, she lacks the amount of experience in this world that the other blonde has; she's fresh from a reunion with her own time's Link, fresh from being declared free from the judgement of her father, and ultimately, she has succeeded in her mission and duties. She is, for all intents and purposes, on a pretty good roll here. She notes there's a sort of hesitation in the response she gets. A pause that might be neither here nor there— she has no idea what the emotion behind it might be and so she lets it go. ]

It is my kingdom.

[ Bright eyed and idealistic, too, Zelda nods without hesitation. Her response is clear and easy to grasp. She understands, then, that this is someone who is just as Hylian as herself. ] It is in a period of healing now, but it will be rebuilt. My people are resilient, strong and bright... The light that shines upon Hyrule once more will lead us back. [ Of course, she neglects to mention that light is Link— the hero of legends, her knight. If this is a Hylian, then Zelda knows that she is aware of the state of the kingdom. ] I will rule in my late father's stead... King Rhoam's wishes has been fulfilled, all the same.

[ She tilts her hair, long golden hair swaying as she does. ] Am I wrong in my thought that, perhaps, you've spent some time alone in this place?

[Ah.

So that's who this is.

It's a revelation that comes over her quickly, but not easily. The jungle is stiflingly warm and humid, but her blood runs so cold as the girl explains in words that are so familiar, but with a different voice, a different tone. Her mind whirls, flurry of activity where her body remains still as a statue; try as she might, she cannot recall a King Rhoam from her time with her tutors all those years ago (when she wasn't playing hooky from her lessons, anyway), though her education was cut woefully short, and it's not as though the names of dead kings were much use to her in Ganondorf's Hyrule.]

I-- yes. [She answers the question as if halfway in a daze, thoroughly preoccupied. The distinction between the dream and Aefenglom ceases to matter.] It has been somewhere around nine months since I have heard anything of my country or my people...

[A part of her wants to lie, to be honest. To hide behind the mask of the shadowy minstrel even if her face doesn't change, and pretend she knows nothing in order to learn more. The girl - the princess - is just vague enough that she can't confirm or deny any of her conclusions based on those words alone. And it's instinct, now, to keep her cards close to her chest until she truly feels safe to show them.

But these dreams usually precede arrivals, and if this princess falls through the mirror into Aefenglom, then... any obfuscation will be shown for the farce it is in short order, surely. She takes a deep, steeling breath, and releases the twigs and other assorted bits of underbrush she's unconsciously clutched in her balled fists.]

I have to admit, I was not expecting my first real reminder of my homeland to be another one of its princesses.

[Surprise?]

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TDM: January

get in the car kiddo we're teaching you how to be a ninja

omg botw zelda and oot zelda in matching sheik costumes would make my life

if you app i will do everything in my power to grant this wish and more

well well well how the turn tables...

eeeee i'm so hyped!!