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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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The good part about being half bear(?) in this dreamscape, is the cold bearly even bothers him at all. The ice not stopping the vines seems weird to him too. But since they're already more than half way up the pit, the only real option is to keep going.]
You gonna be okay if I go through it?
[Because he hasn't stopped, and he's still heading into the vines. Stupidly stubborn is a trait inherent to every single member of Autumn, for better or worse.]
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I only thought I could get her to keep making this pun if I did it like this after the ice pillar I meanShe's not entirely sure if she needs it or even if it helps, but in cases like this, no chances are to be taken.]What?!
[Okay, Leslie did not expect that answer to this problem. But, well, they have very little time to think of alternate options and she wasn't able to do anything with Juza's first suggestion, so she gulps, clings even more tightly, and puts her face against his back to try to protect the more vulnerable parts.]
...Yes! I'll be fine!
[Maybe! She doesn't know! But she's pretty sure she won't die, at least, and even if they get stuck, maybe she can sort out why her magic didn't work when she can touch the plants.]
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Good!
[As soon as he feels Leslie tuck herself closer to him, he starts charging up the wall. They're only illusions, after all, and neither of them feel a single scratch as he travels so quickly upwards.]
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Did you do that?
[Meanwhile, two of the fae are flying closer. One of them is chattering angrily about them not playing by the rules and ruining the game. That one gestures angrily at the illusion, which briefly grows the bramble illusion even higher, getting briefly in the way of the dreamers’ vision. While unlikely to slow down the very straightforward movement of our dear bear, it means they both lose sight of the lip of the wall, which now looks farther away?? If you rely solely on your eyes, there’s about two feet of wall that will offer no handhold whatsoever, as insubstantial as the brambles. One issue is that the other half of the pit circle is completely unaffected, so the illusion wall ends halfway around the circle.
The other fae approaches more quietly, before landing on Leslie’s head and reaching out to rub those bear ears. “Coochie coochie coo!” they say with a laugh. After a second or two (or sooner if Juza tries to attack them), they will kick off from Leslie’s head with unnecessary force] Ow! [and fly away. They’ve already done what they wanted and set a touch-based curse on them both: signals to their four limbs are now rotated. Thinking to move your left arm affects the right, thinking about your right arm moves the right leg, and so on. This currently isn’t such a problem for Leslie’s efforts to cling on, but have fun climbing, Juchan!!]
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[have absolutely no idea what I just did?" The vines looked so real. But maybe they were just holograms? Dreams are weird? He can't really decide on the most reasonable option when it's all not real.
After the odd thing about the vines though, he's not sure anything really happened to the pit. He'll keep attempting to climb up, once the fae are done messing with them. (He did try to bite at them, but they're considerably faster than he can deal with right now.)
Except... he tries to move his left hand and his right foot moves instead?]
The hell...
[Then he realizes that 1. Leslie is still clinging to him. 2. She definitely heard him.] Sorry. [Please excuse his rude language, and also pretend he never said it in the first place.]
They definitely did somethin'.
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What did they -- ?
[Leslie is interrupted from asking what they did when she tries to raise a hand to rub where she got kicked in the head by a fae and, instead, one of her legs just flops off from where she'd been clinging to his back. In her panic to re-grab-on with it, her other leg ends up dropping away, too. She's still got her arms resting on his shoulders and looped around his neck, so she's still there, but she's a little afraid to move right now.]
Huh?!
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[Comes out as a growl of an order more than he really wants it to be. After all of this he has to apologize to this poor kid for everything they went through to get out of this stupid pit.
He attempts to move his his left hand again- that's apparently now his left foot. With the claws, he's at least stuck to the wall securely. Very slowly and deliberately he continues to climb up. Fine motor control is impossible like this, but he's now incredibly grateful for the claws he woke up here with.]
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There’s a limit to how much she can obey not to move when she’s currently dangling by her arms (she has never done a pull-up in her life, so this is a strain on her arms), but she doesn’t try to move her legs again. She does end up swinging just a little, and she glances around to make sure the fey aren’t coming again.
It’s at this point she notices something weird. She blinks. Yes, half the pit wall does seem to end halfway around. And by the other side, they’re not far from the top....]
Mister, look to the right for a moment. There’s something weird about the pit.