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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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Ok, so it's a tournament for a wish that you fight with undead combatants. For one wish. Is it worth risking your life for a single wish?
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[She shrugs. It's a long story, laden with more existential conundrums than she's strictly comfortable with piling on a stranger.]
Once you were in, wish or no wish, the only way to even survive was to win.
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It sounds complicated. It's much easier to just make your own creatures to fight for you. Less rules.
{Of course, Hector doesn't know yet that his own powers don't work here. He hasn't tried to forge anything yet.]
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[She isn't sure raising any sort of dead would be possible, without a Grail to power it.]
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[Interesting. Hector's never tried that particular method before.]
And he was your friend. Was he fully articulate?
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[Though, Hakuno herself falls under the category of artificial humans too, in a different way.]
She was extremely articulate. An academic and a very accomplished alchemist in her own right, actually.
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[It raises the question of whether such a being has a soul, and if so, where it came from. A fascinating moral quandary, but not something he can easily ask in casual conversation.]
Are such things commonplace where you're from?
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[Of course she has a soul, Hector, she submitted it to the Holy Grail in order to raise somebody famous and dead. Keep up, man.]
Well, from what she’s told me she’s definitely a cut above the more organic homunculi that are popular o the black market back on Earth. based on old world Magus theory, and she was made with cutting edge science and technology developed by the Atlas Institute. But the type of artificial humans common from where I come from are a bit different.
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And they are accepted in society? They would be burned at the stake where I come from if the church discovered their origins.
[This girl’s home sounds way better than Wallachia, tournament of death and weird necromancy notwithstanding.]
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[She looks down, her mouth tightening. Her grip on her goblet tightens too.]
They're treated as disposable, I suppose you could say. The machine that made them unmade them all just as easily.
[All but one, anyways.]
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That's unacceptable. If you create a life, you should care for it. Natural or artificial makes no difference.
[Do these people have no pride as creators??]
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[She knows first hand it would have been even more dangerous if it did.]
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[Simply watching people would not seem to justify the cost, just from a logical stand point. Hector has sent his creations to battle, but that was always with a larger goal in mind.]
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[The Moon Cell's origin is a very big question mark, but the only answer that makes a lick of sense is aliens. She's not sure she wants to have that discussion in the middle of a Fae encampment.]
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So, are the academies run by this ancient entity? Are humans not the dominant species in your world?
[Maybe her world isn't as cool as Hector was thinking.]
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No, the Moon Cell—the magic, wish granting, observation machine—has nothing to do with humans at all. The humans down on Earth run their own society. Humans are definitely the dominant species. There was a cataclysmic event about 60 years ago that stripped away most of its magic, so I can't imagine there are many supernatural beings left there at all, these days.
[That world kind of sucks, honestly.]
The Moon Cell is separate from all that. The... well, the name sort of gives its location away.
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There is a magical, mechanical cabal on the moon. Ok.
[Why not? Some say there's a man up there, some say it's a rabbit. Why not a mysterious entity of unknown purpose or providence.]
It's a shame about the night creatures of your home. Some are dangerous, but many of them are just trying to survive.
[To think of them lost to a cataclysm is tragic.]
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[It's okay, Hector. She knows exactly how absurd that sounds.]
I don't know that there were any, by that point; for all I know, they could have ended around the time the gods did, or maybe they've been lying low this entire time, while humanity kicked up a fuss and scrambled for what useable land and resources were left.
[Playing the long con, as it were.]
But if they need mana to survive, I can't imagine they did.
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It's possible. They are resilient.
[If going to ground was the only way to survive, the creatures of the night would do it.]
But they're alive here. Maybe in this world, they'll thrive in spite of humanity.
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[She smiles a little, even beyond the dismay this camp kicks up in her.]
How do the ones you know of coexist where you come from? Openly, or...?
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[Hector would have preferred a solution without bloodshed, but he is hoping that if the war ends swiftly in the vampires' favor, things will get better for the supernatural world.]
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[She pulls a face.]
I can't say I supported that, but there's always going to be as many conflicts as there are different opinions in the world. It sounds pretty Medieval where you're from, though.
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[Now here's a quandary. Hector is absolutely from a medieval society, but the word has no meaning for him. There is no 'Middle Ages' before the Renaissance happens to bookend the time period for historians.]
What does that mean?
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[To put it lightly.
She blinks at him, head cocking to one side.]
...Medieval? It's a word for the Middle Ages or Dark Ages. The... period of time spanning from the 5th to the 15th century?
[Not everyone is the kind of life-or-death history nerd that Hakuno is, but still. Surely it isn't that odd to know this, she reasons.]
It began with the fall of the Western Roman Empire and merged up into the Renaissance and the Age of Discovery.
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I always figured the world I was living in was kind of shit. 'Dark', huh? I guess that means it eventually gets better.
[An age of discovery to come...eventually.]
I was living in Wallachia in the year 1476. I take it you...you come from a more distant time.
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