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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. |
Rumble
That being said, Crow's just going to casually lean against a tree nearby and clap. ]
Not bad. 'Course, you realize you're only gonna make 'em angrier right?
[ Not that Crow views that as a problem.
He's pretty sure he recognizes this kid as one of Rean's students, but well-- the last time he saw Ash, he was still "Azure Siegfried." It's going to be a weird reintroduction no matter what. ]
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S’fair. They’re makin’ me pretty angry as well, and I’m all about reciprocation.
[ There’s another swing and slash of the axe, and a swarm of the bugs bite the dust with a lovely squelch and. Well. Axe blade plus blood filled bug equals a Mess On The Ground. One that Ash steps back to avoid, and finally takes a moment to glance at his new companion.
...
There’s recognition there. But like he’s trying to place Crow in different scenarios — in a different look. After a moment, he moves so he can lean against his weapon and fix Crow with a slightly warier stare. Yeah. Last time he saw him he was swanning around on buildings and experimenting with facial accessories. This is a little different. ]
You not filming this for your voyeuristic buddies in the Workshop? [ He makes a motion with his hand — a small circle then a bigger one. Floating orb, circling the area kind of thing. ]
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[ It's certainly true enough for more than one reason-- it's hard to talk to someone who's a world away from here. Not that it's what Ash meant. Crow stands up properly, pulling off the tree, and grins at Ash before he holds out his hand and conjurs his double saber. With a flourish, he cuts down one mosquito and then another before he looks back over. ]
I don't think we've been properly introduced. You can call me Crow.
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[ Ash straightens back up again, taking his weight off the axe and hoisting it up onto his shoulder. Crow seems to have a handle on taking out the nearest mosquitos for the moment, so he focuses on eyeing the ones buzzing in the distance -- just in case they try to swoop in at an opportune moment. ]
Change of name? Or a grand return to an old one?
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What can I say, they just weren't my type.
[ He very casually cuts down another mosquito as he's talking. ]
As for the name, I decided I liked the old one better. "Siegfried" is just too pretentious, it doesn't suit me at all.
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That's the part you're focusing on? Siegfried on it's own is just funny. [ Hopefully the mosquitoes don't feel too left out here. They're being swiped down with barely a second glance now.
Tragic. ]
But colour themeing the name to your jacket? [ Annnd another swipe, and another thud. ] Tacky.
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Heh, I'll give you that much. It's taking the whole "Azure Chevalier" thing maybe a little too far.
[ An angry group if mosquitoes goes for Crow all at once and he swats them all effortlessly. ]
But hey, a new "me" means a new look! Or several actually, with significantly less blue in the mix.
[ He waves a hand dismissively. ]
Anyway! I've heard you were a busy boy since the last time I saw you.
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Most people just pick a favourite colour and wear it. You do you, I guess.
[ An equally dismissive snort. ]
Try red. It's better.
...
[ Well that's one way to stopper a conversation three minutes in. ] I'm a busy guy, Blue. Nothing out of the ordinary.
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[ Aesthetic is very important to Crow, okay. He cannot have someone else's look! But as for the rest... ]
Haha, fair enough.
[ Like Crow's never shot an important Erebonian politician before. Crow's not throwing any stones from his glass house either. ]
Not that it really matters when you're dreaming anyway.
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[ Aesthetic, huh. ]
...
[ Cool people rebel in the most extreme ways. ]
...
'Scuse me?
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[ He gestures broadly. ]
As for the dream... don't tell me you hadn't noticed.
[ The monster-sized mosquitoes may not be that strange, but... ]
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If this is all some kind of a dream, why are you in it? [ Where's the good stuff? This dream sucks, not enough ladies 0/10. ]
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Hey, don't ask me how this works. If I had my way, I'd be dreaming about something with a lot more women in swimsuits.
[ Or like, Rean in a swimsuit but something tells Crow a guy wouldn't want to hear about some guy fantasizing about his teacher in very little clothing. ]
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[ Please don't tell him about your naked Rean fantasties, Crow. That's His Dad (whether he wants him to be or not). ]
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[ Don't worry, Uncle Crow will keep his lewd fantasies about Papa Rean to himself. ]
Anyway, that should do it for the mosquitoes.
[ Because they have definitely wiped them all out at this point. That's what they get for being low-level enemies versus endgame characters. ]
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[ You're not his real Uncle, Edgelordure SiegCrow. ]
...
[ Ash lets the good-ol' varia axe drop and then... just picks a direction and starts wandering off in it.
Keep up if you can, old man Blue. Might as well wander Aimlessly until the dream hacks him back out into the real world again. ]
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Good, I'll just let you put in all the effort then.
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I get all the refund cash as payment for my work then.