dagung | TDM: May

Test Drive: May

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 on up June 1st. The application page can be found here.
• 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!
• While current players won't be allowed to post top levels on the test drive itself, feel free to reference or play with the dreams in-game.
• 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 Eternal Fall

The smell of autumn leaves surrounds you, a myriad of colors sparkling into existence at the same time. Despite the warmth and light, the air feels heavy and stiff, as if on razor's edge. The forest is eerily silent - not a bird, bug, or rodent dares to stir - and when you do hear something, it's the high-pitched crying, whining, weeping, sobbing, howling sounds of something far off. The tunnel of bent branches invites you further with an unpleasant compulsion; though fighting it and turning around finds you in front of a chilly, damp cave alight with the faint, cool glow of bubbling fountains and streams.

The Compulsion
Unable to sway yourself from the call of the forest - or maybe you're simply curious as to where it leads - your feet pull you further and further into the autumnal tunnel. The cry from before grows more distant, but in return, the air weighs even heavier on your shoulders than before. The branches hang lower and lower as well, as if pushed by gravity, until their leaves smack your face, twigs offering small cuts from the thorns protruding from their bark.

But you can't stop. Not now. The end of the tunnel seems so close; but it's seemed that way for a while now, you suppose, and you've already come this far - you might as well stay the course, wherever it might lead.

The further you go, the brighter everything becomes, and you realize it's the leaves surrounding you; they've begun to glow, encouraged by the sunlight streaming in from above, and the wind begins to whisper in your ear. At first, it's only encouraging things, or silly facts - harmless words, but as the foliage begins to shimmer and reflect your image, the wind's words turn colder. Within those reflections on the autumn tunnel, you begin to see your worst moments - morally, ethically, emotionally. The things you don't want anyone else to know, that you'd feel ashamed or struck for anyone - especially those close to you - to see. The wind becomes louder as the scenes play out one right after another, boldly declaring your true feelings as they were in that moment, good or bad.

Worst of all - you still can't bring yourself to turn back, even as your mind begins to free itself from the tunnel's compulsion. Maybe someone else can help out, if they're not too taken by their own memories, or maybe the shock of sharing such private secrets will jolt you and anyone else back to reality. Either way, it's that, or staying stuck watching your worst memories play on repeat for what feels like the rest of your life.

The Cry
While not compelled by any means, you still feel a curious draw down the path in front of you; as you follow the leaf tunnel, with others or alone, you find another, less-traveled path. Following it reveals a large pond colored orange and gold by the reflection of the area it's in, sunlight and shadows playing on its surface. At a glance, it seems to be rather shallow, but that's hardly the truth.

You realize, after a moment, that the crying has continued, evidently coming from the water. Looking closer, the culprit is an infected Merrow, who - upon begin seen - shrieks and dives for whoever's looking at it with the clear intent to drag them down beneath the water. Its claws are extra sharp, its teeth similar to a shark in number and shape, and its scales have turned a pale black; an oil-like substance flows from beneath them and from its gums as well, shimmering the same way gasoline does in the light, and its eyes are the tell-tale white of a Shade.

It isn't impossible to fight it to get away, especially as some of you have new abilities at hand, and some of you have a few neat changes to help that along. Once distance is successfully put between you and the infected Merrow, it howls in a wet, warbly voice, visibly frustrated. Unlike ordinary Merrows, who can walk on land and have legs as long as they stay dry, this Merrow can't seem leave its pond at all, and electricity sparks from it like little static shocks in its irritation. It does dive back under once it realizes it can't reach you, resurfacing as your character's most important person in an attempt to lure them back. The expressions are far too real, too genuine; even those aware it's a Merrow might be fooled. While its voice isn't a perfect mimicry, the song it begins to sing has with it notes of yearning and beckoning to join it, join your beloved person, in the water.

The Cave
Pulling yourself from curiosity or compulsion, the cave behind you - in front of you, if you've turned around - gives off an oddly pure feeling. Like an oasis in a desert, it feels refreshing and calm; incredibly safe, compared to the eerie call of the forest it's in. Within the cave are pools of water that glow and glimmer from the magic runes found around them. The runes shift similar to a mirage whenever you try to focus on them; and try as you might, you can't glimpse what they say exactly.

It isn't so hard to figure out though, as the pools of water surrounded by them have a pleasingly cold temperature, while those without them are near scalding. A few of the latter have runes around them, but they're not glowing like the rest - feeding a little magic into them changes this immediately, and steam rises in a sudden blast as the water cools rapidly. The opposite can be done for the colder pools too - taking their magic somehow or ruining the runes will make them bubble and boil as they surge in temperature.

But that isn't all the cave has to offer. Moving further inward, you get the feeling you're going down - beneath the ground and the enchanting forest. Eventually, the cave widens out to a massive underground lake, multiple waterfalls pouring into it; despite their number and size, the room is completely silent. All tunnels seem to lead to this one room, with a few of them looking more man-made than natural. Traversing other tunnels leads you into a maze that only ever brings you to the lake, or to the cave's entrance, no matter how many different paths you take.

Something different happens eventually though; signs of life begin to appear, or at least signs that life once lived there. Leather pouches rotted by the dampness of the cave hang on sharp nails beaten into the cave walls, with boots in similar condition strewn here and there. Torn, soaking clothing lays in piles in the tunnels, and candles burnt down to their wick's end stand in shelves carved from the navy blue and black stone. There's broken toys and books too waterlogged to read, instruments with snapped strings or clogged holes, and - most peculiarly - smooth, round devices that heavily resemble large pocketwatches or hand mirrors. They refuse to turn on though, either due to age or due to the wetness of the air.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Papyrus pauses mid-step, wobbling and catching himself by crouching again, as another voice arrives. It's hard to pay much attention over the sounds of Sans crying in song, an awful sound he hasn't heard in ages and never really wanted to hear again, but they're fare enough from the water that he thinks they're safe, and he focuses on what the new arrival's offering.

"A... stick? Do you think a branch will help?"

He's uncertain, but vaguely hopeful. This doesn't really seem like the time to play fetch, but maybe the reptile monster is onto something, like maybe distracting lake-Sans with a game will help.

Edited 2019-05-18 00:42 (UTC)

Singing water bones... this is a very weird dream. Toby doesn't want to get any closer than she already is. She's too dense to swim, and if it's deep enough for a merrow the bottom might drop off too steeply for her to just climb back out. Also the whole 'attacked by a blight-dream' thing.

"See if your friend there will grab it so you can pull them out," she says patiently, long used to clarifying for her people. Normally merrows out on the land are weakened and can't make this kind of noise to any effect. Maybe this doesn't apply to blight dreams, but look, she has to try and maintain casualty.

"He's not my friend, he's my brother!" Papyrus protests, accepting the stick. Really, can't this reptile see the resemblance? They're both skeletons. That should be enough... even if basically nothing about their faces or even body shapes looks the same right now.

That sounds a bit cold, as he hears himself say it, so he sheepishly adds, "maybe... he's both. Right. Anyway! Sans, take this! I'll pull you out." Extending the stick out, he carefully tries to keep his balance in the lakeside mud.

"Right," she echoes dryly.

The merrow is not really in a state to understand conversation, or tool use for that matter, and waits until the end of the stick is close before biting it and trying to pull it, and theoretically Papyrus, down into the water.

Toby's just going to watch for a minute, and if need be ask "Do you want help?"

Papyrus flinches a little when his 'brother' bites the stick and almost loses his footing for it. It's wasn't exactly the result he was expecting, or hoping for, but it fits his earlier expectations - a game of tug-of-war, a game of fetch, either way it's a game with a stick and too many too-sharp teeth.

Without turning toward Toby, focused on keeping both hands on the stick and pulling back, Papyrus nods. "Uh, Y-yes, please help me steady the back end of it! In case... Sans... is heavier than I expect." Skeletons aren't known for their weight, but skeletons aren't known for dripping with a mysterious oily black liquid, either.

There's a certain amount of splashing and churning, though only bones are visible above the surface. Toby doesn't actually want to get any closer. She's realized that the merrow might be able to switch targets, and she's homesick enough. "I'm sure he is."

Honestly... Sometimes her people chew on bones for the calcium. When you grow from infancy to seven feet in under three years, sometimes you need to bend herbivory. They wouldn't chew on bones like the dog skeleton, not coated in shaggy growths. She doesn't really want to touch. Also if she takes the stick and there's too much lateral movement she could accidentally cut the dog skeleton.

"I've been learning magic, but not the kind that lets me move things without touching them," she says, and suppresses a sigh as she does reluctantly approach. "How's your grip? If you're holding on I can grab you."

If that's a comment on his brother's apparent weight, it's nothing Papyrus hasn't heard before. He might say something to contradict it in support of Sans, but the maybe-Sans tugs more intently, and keeping hold of the stick is the higher priority here.

"I think I have it... It isn't wet yet!"

Thankfully, his mitten-gloves are tight on his wrists, and offer a little more traction than bones alone would. As long as the stick stays dry, as long as the maybe-Sans doesn't pull hard enough to pull them both in, he should have it. Toby's advantage here is the same as the merrow's disadvantage - skeletons are very thin, with plenty of gaps. It can be difficult to hit them.

"All right." A resigned Toby repositions herself behind Papyrus, planting her heavy tail solidly and her clawed feet apart. A good angle for not accidentally cutting someone, as long as he doesn't end up falling back into her knee blades. "This had better not hurt you."

Or stick to her hands. It's a weird, weird dream.

The merrow makes an incoherent warbly noise as Toby wraps both long hands around Papyrus's lower arm bones. On and off the skeleton in the water seems to have three short forwards-raked horns; it's confused by the proximity of two people with two different ideas.

Papyrus glances up at the shifting of the figure in the water, the way horns seem to be growing from it, occasional lines flicking out in similar places as his new reptile friend's blades.

"He's never done that before..." he admits, coming closer to admitting this is a bad idea and maybe they should call it quits - but not yet there. "But! Fear not! I'm very tough, and can take a little hurting."

Especially since Toby so strongly doesn't intend the harm. In this dream world, before the pull of Aefenglom really takes hold and changes the magic making him up, Papyrus is a skeleton monster.

He does his best to angle a shoulder so it's close to Toby's, helping them keep track of how far he is from those various blades, and begins pulling harder. The merrow hisses in a voice that's getting further and further from his brother's as it's dragged a step toward the shore.

"Not a morpher, then," she says with a kind of grim humor, and starts to back up, using her tail like an additional leg to take weight and brace. This is obviously going to end badly, but it's also probably not going to end with being drowned by a diseased fish creature, so...

Among her people, incidental cuts are common and unremarkable. She causes them on herself just about daily without really noticing. But other people don't have the Hork-Bajirs' ability to heal rapidly, something she's become acutely aware of since arriving in Aefenglom.

At this point the merrow would clearly like to disengage but it bit into that stick pretty hard, and it doesn't shed teeth quite as easily as a shark would. It tries worrying from side to side, doglike.

If it weren't for his thinking of this as tug-of-war with one of the dogs back home, Papyrus would have lost his grip with the shaking. As is, he barely keeps up with the movement, each whiplash jostling his arms even as it loosens the maybe-Sans' teeth.

"What are you doing??" Papyrus scolds reflexively, even as the merrow's shape flickers from time to time with pointy reptile touches. "Come with us or let go! You're going to hurt your neck doing that."

Normally that wouldn't be too bad - normally healing magic isn't so unusual. A fair few monsters can muster a tiny bit of it, enough to help recovery with encouraging words, and Papyrus himself can do a bit more than that. Being as much a gentleman of a fighter as he considers himself, he makes sure to heal up his opponents, even when they're a human and his hopes for popularity and fame and promotion rest on capturing them. But like a lot of things, that doesn't seem to be working right in this dream.

TDM: May

toby: it's dangerous to go alone

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