![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
TDM: January
- Welcome to
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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. |
no subject
the titanic monster breaks for a tree to quickly slide itself into, and with a beat of mighty wings, eren attempts distance from certain clash. next to the snake, the dragon was . . . small, and the puca was smaller. he had fight in him, certainly as he drags at the earth with his talons and starts into momentum he needs for flight, roaring at the other reptile in defiance and warning— but not enough speed is had as massive trunks snap away by the viper's poison fangs and seizing neck. eren still attempts bursts of sprints that chip away at fallen branches and terrain while he beats his wings to take him. he needs to get up. ]
Mi— [ he stops himself, huffs through another smokey exhale and searches for her. the last time people died in dreams, even injured themselves— they were comatose and on the brink of death in the waking world. chances eren doesn't want to take. he'll at least trust her, with speed like that, to keep up.
how much they could, with a naga so large, he wasn't sure. their exxperience with titans and judgement would have to be enough. ]
no subject
Briefly. she wanders if the one she'd been speaking to would be okay. But the noises are enough to make her keep running.
She was fast. And agile. The fallen logs and sharp turns meant very little to her as she swerved around them. But she was small, so small compared to the animals here. One step of their's was ten of her's. And the scent of the water, the sound of the waves gets stronger.
For a moment, and only for a short moment. She's out of the jungle, zigzagging on the sand. Then she's disappearing again. Not enough cover here. Gotta find a hole. Not enough time to dig.]
no subject
the air was fresh, the wind was cool, and the ocean blew its salty breeze to him. it’s where he’s going and where his eyes catch the distant little speck ravaging the sandy shore. he was tired, after a speed burst like that, and manages to hold his wings for a descending glide, and—
too fast for his own fatigue, oh dear. in a matter of seconds, sand explodes upon his impact, rattles the earth and rolls him into the wet shoreline. ]
no subject
She should have been good at dealing with large things falling near here. But...Something about this just makes her limbs lock up midstride. Sending her, faceplanting into the ground. Her tail and ears comically flopping forward, the tail stands for a few seconds before flattening.
For a few seconds she's completely still. Then she draws a breath. And immediately regrets it when the sand makes her sneeze. Slowly, she shoves herself out of the sand and onto her haunches. Still in a daze.
Blinking.]
...It's you.
no subject
the sand should help, and thus he begins to roll in it a little desperately before tending to the nearby puca all until it sticks and dries and allows the dragon to heave a relieving breath into his chest, belly up and rotating sideways. his neck lifts when her scent touches his tongue and forces his neck to raise and stare. shivering his hide to make most of the sand fall off, the dragon straightens. and watches. he didn’t have to come here and he did. what luck and irony— they were also right in front of the ocean again.
even more irony that it literally hurts him, now. eventually, his gaze moves away from her, and to the endless horizon line. ]
You ran at the right time.
no subject
[She didn't know what it was. But it was really hard to miss. And she was watching him. Sand covered head tilting to watch him, keeping at least one eye on him at all times. Her eyes listening for anything else.
There's nothing behind. But Mikasa doesn't break her gaze.
She doesn't move closer either. Instead she starts...preening. Combing through her hair and ears with her fingers. Rubbing at her face to get the dirt off with the fur on her arms. Combing that fur. She was going to be at that for a while. Her nose twitching.
Did you know rabbits spent more time grooming than cats?]no subject
[ for real tho
they're all covered in sand, and eren is far less inclined to preen himself, instead letting his claws sink into the sand. especially when most of it helped ease the burning sensations water left behind like balm. he could feel eyes on him, and eventually, his own do return to settle on the puca. settle and— he asks himself, what he was doing. speaking to her as if she were anybody.
partially because he has to. partially because he wants to. ]
—A snake-based monster. [ a . . . gesture? his tongue flicks. ] Like you. You're a puca.
no subject
I'm human. It's just the dream. [Even if it felt so realistic. Even if she went back to brushing her ears. Tilting her head, both eyes moving to watch him.
...One of which had already started to lighten. Fading into a dull golden colour.]
It sounded large. Like the strange bears from before.
[When she'd first woken up, before she'd come across the Fae.]
no subject
Somewhat. If your, [ neck wave, her gear ] thing worked, [ his tail flops to the side, as if to flick out as he rests his head and breathes the way he needs to. ] maybe you wouldn’t’ve had problems.
[ but, in the end, it’s casually said and isn’t any bigger than what they’re used to. ]
Do I look human to you?
no subject
It works just -
[Mikasa pauses her combing. Turning both eyes, her ears perking, fully focused on him. ]
You were human?
no subject
If you end up here and don’t come to terms with that, [ he huffs, accidentally spewing sand, but luckily— he has his head turned, an eye on her instead. ] you lose your mind to instinct. It’s called going feral.
[ well. one of the things. ]
no subject
[It may have been able to change her body, but her mind was seperate, it wouldn't change. Not that much.
She's not even noticed that it's already happening. ]
no subject
[ counting both circumstances would fall under knowing her for a long while, but even without the coexistence, it’s obvious that the physical ticks aren’t human. even if he doesn’t understand them. ]
For someone who was ready to defy a whole group of Fae over a kid a while ago, [ his voice sounds mildly tired; he’s being reminded of something, and even if he’s truly telling the truth this time— it leaves a bitter taste in his maw, and slides down his throat sharp enough to make human features grimace, if he still had them. ] you’re already changed.
no subject
But then he gives a reason before she can respond. Whatever denial she was going to say dies before she can voice. Like back then. A hand slowly drifts from her ear to tug at the air near her collar. Fingers grasping for a moment before glancing fur that was starting to grow. When she does finally talk its blank, tired. ]
I.. I was just angry then.
[It's a weak reason and she knows it]
no subject
he could at least do this, with his voice subdued, and his body rising, cascading sand off his body smoothly— like water itself. ]
Survive. That's all you have to do. [ or everything i've done up until now, he thinks with a heavy heart, will mean nothing. ] It doesn't matter how.
no subject
Because his comment doesn't make sense. It's like he's talking about something else, something more than the conversation they were just having. At first it'd seemed like he was scolding her about the changes, but then...Well, she's not quite sure.]
...Haven't I already been doing that?
[Even if she'd ran. She'd escaped, she survived.]
no subject
[ ferality, instinct, changes, bonds— even if there were other temporary remedies, it was just that. temporary, before things get worse. it’s even more gut-churning when eren thinks of how he’s very well responsible for destroying the possibility of bonds for her, if she came from . . . then. would it be too much and too selfish of him to ask that, if she had to come, be it from earlier?
he hopes she doesn’t wake up here at all, and holds his tongue from saying it. instead, another sssss sound comes from his regular air-tasting. ]
no subject
But the hissing noise makes her still again, digging her claws into the sand. But she things of how she'd changed.]
It'll hurt more there. Won't it? Here I barely felt anything.
no subject
[ the dragon’s wings spread as he stands on his hind legs, gives the puca one more lasting glance— before he attempt to take off. once he’s gained momentum in such difficult terrain for a heavy body to walk on, he soars, and leaves her.
it hasn’t been the first time he has, anyway. ]