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TDM: May
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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 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. |
(the cry) yoooooo
[ But curiosity had bested them all the same, hadn't it?
Asura's grin is a wry thing when he turns his head, glancing back at his newly-met companion, aware of the threat posed by the infected, but assured of his own ability to negate it. ] Still, you shouldn't let that stop your singing, songbird.
[ He gestures, then, to the pond and its inhabitant, the Merrow's voice wafting over the surface of the water in beguiling suggestion. And d a m n, what that siren's call might have been, were the poor creature not a Shade of its former glory, able to cast a lure without need for illusions.
(It might have stood to pull him in, with that sweet turn of phrase and the Antler Crown's face.) ]
You were up to something, crooning those Queen lyrics weren't you?
no subject
[She finds herself smiling, at once amused and at ease with her companion-the king. And here she thought she wouldn't see reminders of home while in residence. Being teased about being called a songbird, of all things, makes her bark out in a laugh, and stare down at the wasted creature.
It had tried its illusion but...well, they looked lovely enough, but it was no one she knew, no reminder of home, of people she knew. But then-it was the journey she was attached to, not the people. They were not her hearthstone.]
Oh, I was. A soft experiment.
[She shrugged, more lively then usual.]
I wanted to see if I could counter the lure with song. But then-I don't really have anyone that I'm particularly missing at home. I'm missing experiences. That's too sophisticated for it.
[The tainted mer-folk that is.]
no subject
[ The sharpness of his grin tempering into a smile, the distinct warmth of fondness crosses his face as he speaks: ] But it is my hope that your journey here will be as worthwhile as all those you've embarked upon before.
[ He rises to his feet, after that, for he knows they do not have long: the Merrow will likely grow frustrated with the lack of response to its song, and while it will be of no danger to either King or once-necromancer, there are others far less seasoned and by far more foolish who will stumble across the trodden path leading to the pond.
Asura, by virtue and by nature, is not the sort person to jeopardize their safety by leaving an infected unattended to. ]
If you don't plan on finishing your experiment, I ask that you take your leave. [ So she will not have to aid him in his reaper's task, even if she does have the hands for it. ] I will not let the creature continue to exist this way, to do so would be barbaric knowing its fate.
no subject
[Her gaze is fond, and it softens, inwardly directed. She has loved people before-has been in love with love itself, and the kind of love that Asura refers to, where people make a home.
But those that stay close are rare, and hard to find. And because she loves, she knows to let them go. Sometimes it's more difficult, but she hasn't had that particular problem in awhile.
Hence the Merrow's appearance.]
This one is...different. The bonds aren't like any I've had to deal with before but...
[There's something that dims, but, former necromancer or not, she's not without resources, She takes in a quick breath, shoulders straightening as she tries not to think grim thoughts.
Or miss what she's known for centuries to be hers.]
No, I'll help you. I was planning on ending this existence once I was done with my attempts. There's no need for you to put all the weight on your shoulders.
[Even if he is a King, she does enjoy teasing him.]
Else, you might gain a stoop, and then where will we be?
no subject
[ Familiar and well-traveled, the route of their banter, habitual railleries meeting with swift rejoinders in casual exchanges which were by far more easy to navigate than any autumnal road. But it is precisely because it has grown familiar that Asura is able to hear the break in Sokie's voice, her words trailing off in the moment she decides to withhold a part of herself from him. And while he does not blame her (how much has he withheld from her, from everyone?), he cannot help but wonder at the unspoken sentiment which hangs thick in the air, more charged than even the Merrow's electric shocks in the moments after it dispels its illusion. ]
But you'll find I've no desire to forever be Atlas, and if it is your will to stay, then stay. [ By bidding that she take her leave, he'd intended to spare her not from the ghastly nature of the task, but from his own ruthlessness, however... ] Truth be told, I'm in need of your expertise.
[ ...maybe it's about time for that mask to drop, especially when there's so much potential energy manifest beneath his skin, the buildup of magic an impossible to tame itch. Rolling those shoulders which haven't yet set into a stoop, Asura stretches before beginning to channel the churning currents of power inside of him.
(And how the Queen of the Ashen Court would delight in this sight, if only she could glimpse it: the King of Summer himself, the one who had condemned her Autumnal mystics, stands practicing arcane magics in the height of her season.) ]
What's the biggest damn evocation spell you can think of?
[ Really, it's the only question to ask. ]
no subject
[She quips right back, smiling. It was soothing, falling back on old habits; caution replaced with warmth, even if their friendship can be conditional. And, well-she doesn't have much to her nowadays, since this world has taken so much. For what, she did not know.
It's a cold comfort to know that all of them here have the same level of loss. Better to focus on what they were doing, rather then what they no longer possessed. Speaking of...]
Fire storm, honestly.
[She rolled her shoulders, and breathed out a long, low sigh. Ruthlessness? Hiding behind a mask? Oh yeah, she's letting her magic flow out, untainted by necromancy.]
But for this thing? Faraday cage so it's out of the water, then a lightning storm inside of it. Though I suppose just a lightning storm will do.
no subject
I was hoping you might say that. [ Catching Sokie's gaze and holding it fast with his own, he reveals an affinity perhaps far less obvious than one might expect from a Witch who so thoroughly preferred wielding flame above all else— ] Fire is the lifeblood of Summer, and lightning is its spark.
[ One galvanized the other, like two Witches in a bond; a cyclical feedback loop. ]
A cage, though, is a bit beyond me. You're welcome to magic one, but... [ Crackling to life at his fingertips are electrostatic currents, at the ready for volleyed discharge, the pond which the Merrow has retreated well into an unfortunate choice of home (or willful prison, if the infected knew what they would become; what harm they could do). ] ...maybe we're both a bit too pent up for that.
[ The tension in her, he can't seem to forget it. It isn't in him, to press for answers, but he'd remiss if he did not ask when the task before them is through. ]
On your mark?
no subject
And hearing how he agreed with her, her breath caught in a laugh. There was excitement-excitement of the tang of magic, of ozone that she thought she could smell, and her hands lifted, smoothed and practiced.]
I'll contain the area so you can use the lightning to its highest effect without backlash.
[Also? It'd be a shame if it ruined their hair. An absolute awful thing. She was forgetting about the tension, pretending that she felt more like herself.
Just like he was, she thought. Destruction was such an easy outlet. Her lips curved up.]
Get set.
[It reminds her of races she's seen of children, and their laughter. Her hands flew and there it was-the cage, nearly ready, the creature unable to escape.]
Go!
no subject
When the storm stops, smoke floats from the corpse upon the water, and the surrounding forest is still. And Asura, who'd raced with Sokie hand in hand to this grave conclusion, is quiet himself, ravendark lashes sweeping low over green eyes as he stares out, at the water, as he sees in the Merrow every Changeling he'd put down for the safety of others.
That creature did not deserve to be slave to the shell which encased it, no more than any Changeling deserved to be lost to the madness imposed upon them by their altered forms; their time held as prisoner in Arcadia, and yet... who could escape it, in the end?
Even Asura himself is not so invulnerable. ]
Radio, someone still loves you. [ —he sings softly in eulogy, breaking the silence, turning to face the woman he'd call his friend before asking: ]
You think it'll be safe to bury the body? [ It's the just thing to do. ]
no subject
It's a relief. She hadn't realized that the charge up of magic had been bothering her so-and how it feels strange, and unlike the world she knew. She was used to being in the middle of a cloud, balanced; here, it's just a build up, like she's been holding her breath.
She could hate what this world has done to her, given half a chance. Her hands dropped, and with his song, she laughed. It was one of surprise rather then battle high or maliciousness.
Her hand moves through her hair, once, thoughtful, before wrinkling her nose.]
I think we might have to cremate the remains. We'll have to fish out the body and ward the area off.
[She sighs; it's a lot of work, but...]
I don't know how infectious it is. Magic makes it uncertain.
[And a pain in the butt.]
Sorry Asura. We have to be boring adults for about five seconds.