dagung | TDM: MARCH

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* tdm

TDM: MARCH

Test Drive: March

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 character, put one in! This time around, reserves will expire after the first 48 hours of applications being opened. Those first 48 hours will be open to those who have reserves only, so we recommend placing one. It will not guarantee you a spot, but it will guarantee you can post your app immediately when they open.
• Applications Open The 24th! There will be a cap of 30 applications accepted this round, and apps will close whenever we've reached that cap. If there are slots left after the reserves-only period, apps will open to those without reserves. 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!
• 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 Underground

Take a moment. Let your eyes adjust to the dark, your ears to echoing silence, but for the steady drip of condensation down the stone walls that surround you. The tunnels down here are wide, the ceilings high, but they are dim, devoid of sunlight and breeze. The only light, in fact, comes from the shards of softly-glowing shards of quartz lining the ground and the bio-luminescent algae that smears the stone in long, blue veins, pulsing gently, pushing breathable air into the otherwise-stale passageways. The air is damp, but the temperature is moderate - almost comfortable. The tunnels fork off and meander from where you are, some narrowing and some widening, but none seem to lead you to the surface, no matter how long you wander. Is it a trick of the light, that the algae glows a little brighter, pulses a little quicker, when you head in a particular direction? It's hard to sort your senses so deep underground, far from the world above where things make sense. Hopefully you've found a friend by now.

The Crystal Cavern
Many of the tunnels, both wide and narrow, lead to the same place: a massive chamber hewn out of the stone by time, and the drip-drip of water from the ceiling into the central lake. Perhaps you came out toward the bottom, and the ceiling is a thousand feet above you, or maybe you came out toward the top, and the lake is a thousand feet below. There are a hundred or more holes in the sloping stone walls that lead to more tunnels, and something like natural steps down from most of them. In a way, it resembles a beehive, this room acting as a central hub of sorts.

This is also the first place you find signs of life. Short, tough little tufts of grass growing from the thin soil, bone white in color, having long abandoned photosynthesis and chlorophyll. More of the glowing algae. Small, skittering insects - beetles, grubs and worms. The occasional albino rat, much larger and louder than rats have any right to be. Ruffled and capped fungi growing on the wet rock like parasites, some as large as a grown man. Blind, slimy cave fish wriggling around in the still waters of the lake.

And milling around the great stone cavern, slurping up the glowing algae that covers the rocks and grows in lacy sheets across the water, are dozens of great beasts, bigger than horses. Shaped like worms, but with dozens and dozens of stubby, fleshy legs, these creatures are huge, with velvety, multi-colored hides, and though their antennae wave in curiosity when approached, they don't seem aggressive. At least, as long as you avoid the big silk-wrapped bundles stuck to the walls and ground all over the cavern. These are their egg sacs, and if their young are threatened, they'll quickly shoot jets of viscous slime, a quick drying adhesive, that can slow and trap even the strongest adult. If you find yourself in a sticky situation, you better hope someone can wrench you loose - the worms seem content to eat algae, until they've caught prey. Each worm has a long, hooked, chitinous blade concealed within its fleshy jaws to tear and shred, and a nightmarish round mouth full of multiple rows of teeth.

Navigate carefully. There at the bottom of the lake, where it feeds into an underground stream that leads down another wide tunnel, there are a few small rowboats, some missing oars, certainly not enough for everyone. You'll have to share if you want to get out of here. Or you can keep hanging out with the giant wormipedes.

The Procession
As you proceed down the stream by boat, the lighting grows just a little brighter, seeming a little more purposeful in how the glowing algae is planted, how the softly glowing crystals are placed. You start seeing a new type of moss, greyish-green and growing in ragged sheets from the ceiling of the tunnel. Watch your head - it's near impossible to cut through this stuff should you get tangled. For a while, you only hear the soft splashing of the gentle stream, but then... there is a flash of torch light, up ahead.

The boat ahead is longer than the one you use, better kept, and full of people - three Monsters, all whose forms are based on creatures that thrive underground, in pieces of armor, holding spears, and one very elderly Witch woman, seated in the middle, wrinkled hands folded primly in her lap. Her milky gaze stares straight ahead, with something soft and proud in the set of her face. One of the Monsters holds the torch, the other rows the boat, and the third settles down next to her; they speak in hushed voices, with little smiles.

After a while, the rowing Monster slows the boat, before they can bump into a thick, heavy, impenetrable curtain of grayish-green moss that stretches across the whole tunnel, blocking the way, like a gate. The other two help the woman to her feet, and guide her toward the front of the boat - and the curtain of moss. She reaches out for it blindly, and they help her step onto the edge. There is something almost ritual or reverent about the movements, the way they regard the Witch as she touches the curtain of moss... and is wrapped into it quickly, swallowed up, absorbed. After twenty minutes of gentle pulsing, the lump that used to be the Witch is no more, and the whole of the moss pulses with light and magic. The Monsters watch this whole process vigilantly, and once the lights die down, they continue on. The moss parts to allow the boat through, brushing against the Monsters but not swallowing them.

The procession happens a few more times, in separate boats, with separate victims - but all are very, very elderly, and seem proud, even happy to meet their fates. Trying to follow them further after the ritual will have the same thing happen for your boat - the moss will part, and brush over those in the boat without causing harm. If you happen to be infected with the Cwyld, however... you might meet the same fate as the old woman, with the moss reaching and grabbing for you. The procession can be stopped, but drawing attention will draw the ire of the Monster guards, and, strangely, the victims themselves, who will fly into a distressed rage at the interruption.

The Marketplace
Beyond the veil of moss lies... civilization? The cavern is enormous, big enough to contain a city at least as big as Aefenglom, if not larger, though the population at a glance seems to be much smaller. Twenty thousand people, perhaps, give or take. Buildings have been carved out of huge stone spires, or formed by draping cloth around and between the natural stalactites and stalagmites. Monsters tend to be quite tall or bulky, possessing obvious physical strength, while Witches and humans tend to be shorter than in Aefenglom. They all mingle on the streets together, with no immediately obvious class difference. Since there is no weather to dress for, some don't bother to dress at all, though humans at least tend to wear flowy silks or simple clothes made from wormipede hides. The streets are wide and the buildings far-spaced, and many get around on the backs of those worm creatures, having made them saddles and reins.

The stream ends in a lake right next to a marketplace, with many small boats docked on its pebbled shores. The stalls sell all kinds of goods: clothing made from fine silk and worm hide or rat fur, skewered meat (It's bug.), weapons, armor, jewelry made from chunks of beautiful stone. Your arrival is bound to cause a stir though, so keep your head down, and maybe it's time to snatch a disguise from one of the clothing stalls.

Monster guards, occasionally flanked by Witches, patrol the streets and keep the peace, and stopping to talk to anyone will make one thing clear: they are not at all used to outsiders. They won't believe a word you say about being from above ground, and they've never heard of your world or Aefenglom. You're nomads from the tunnels, right? Of course, don't be ridiculous, you can't fool them with tall tales! At least they're usually willing to talk - briefly, of course, everyone is very busy down here, it's morning and many will be heading to tend to the herd soon.

Those who are subtle and pointed in their questions can learn a lot about the vast but also small civilization below the surface of the world. Strength is valued here - the stronger the Monster or more powerful the Witch, the higher their rank in society, and the closer they live to the center, largest spires of stone. Monster-Witch Bonded pairs are the be-all-end-all, and often wear matching wrist-guards or pendants proudly. Pretending to be Bonded to another will put many of the natives at ease, though Monster-Monster pairs get snide comments about how you have to team up to find a good Witch, and Witch-Witch pairs will get odd looks and assume you both have a very strong Monster partner somewhere. It must be quite rare for Witches to go un-bonded here, and any who pass through without an obvious partner may be propositioned by young Monsters showing off their various talents. Unbonded Monsters may be nudged in the direction of any strange, unbonded Witches - usually fellow Mirrorbound - in a poor attempt at matchmaking. Those poor unbonded Witches need protection, right? Or so the locals think.

It's too bad trying to go any farther than the Marketplace will get you stopped by guards and turned back, however. They don't allow nomads into the inner city.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ the worst of what's ailing her is dealt with, really—it's a temporarily weak constitution that has her struggling to stay upright, more than anything. but she's walking just fine with the cane. ]

... Most of it, I think. The dreams and the mirrors. Bonds. Witches and monsters. Different Fódlans, dependent on my gender, and whether that child did what Seiros wanted or made a choice. How am I doing so far?

[ hubert it has been such a long day. ]

[There's an answer on the tip of his tongue, but that last part give Hubert pause. Something's different—that should come as no surprise, at this point. Countless variations, variations he hadn't even considered until this twisted dream, and each centered largely on one variable.]

[No, he couldn't let down his guard yet simply because Byleth had that beast's blood on her sword. So far, only he and Edelgard seemed to share the exact version of events. Not until he was absolutely sure.]

Poorly, if your movement is any indication—but those are the essential concepts, yes. Professor, are you quite alright?

[ there's a little bit of a smile, like she's grateful for the concern. yeah, yeah, hubert's concern is almost always laced with something else, but that's mostly so he can deny it. still, she's run into enough of the others that she can see the probing question there. ]

I overdid it in Fhirdiad. And... I've been feeling very weak, besides that. I think because of what happened to me after El and I slew Seiros, my body is having to adjust to a lot at once. It's nothing that enough rest won't solve.

[ she is... exhausted. and she definitely wouldn't have called edelgard el to fucking hubert's face if she was at 100%. ]

She told me earlier that I slept for days after the battle, but I wouldn't know. Fhirdiad's the last I remember.

Edited 2020-03-18 03:43 (UTC)

[His gaze flicks back at Byleth ever-so-briefly before settling ahead impassively again. He doesn't answer immediately, digesting each bit of information and scouring it for weak links and filing it away for later.]

[They'd have to sit down and discuss random details to ensure things were accurate, but... this may be the closest affirmation he's getting for the moment. Fhirdiad—the last thing Hubert remembered, as well.]

[Even if the story lined up, the tension didn't leave him. A paranoid part deep in his heart was scared to let his guard truly go and held his relief hostage, after his encounter with Petra.]

I cannot attest to that. I was swept into the immediate aftermath, managing the soldiers, survivors, and prisoners. [A shake of his head.] Midday or afternoon in the wake of the battle is the last I recall.

[Approaching the beached lakeboats, Hubert vaguely gestures for the professor to sit and rest.]

Your hair. What happened to it?

[ something's still troubling him, she can tell. still, she nods with a bit of gratitude, taking a seat. ]

I lost my connection to Sothis when Seiros died. The Crest of Flames, her power, the Stone... it's all gone. [ she gestures to her hair. ] I'm human. Completely.

[ thus the adjustment. ]

The sword doesn't respond to me anymore, before you ask.

Edited 2020-03-18 04:36 (UTC)

[What, what?]

[Hubert crosses his arms while he digests all of that. There's a hell of a lot to unpack in so few words. He doesn't answer for a long moment.]

The sword won't, regardless. The Arrow of Indra was inert when I arrived. [That was the easy part to address.] I beg your pardon—Sothis? The Goddess? What stone?

[More unknowns. This wasn't putting him putting him at ease.]

[ byleth pushes a hand under her bangs and props up her forehead, elbow resting on her thigh. yeah, okay. buckle up, hubert. still, that's good to know regarding the sword—even if she's positive it wouldn't answer her at home, either. ]

I've been thinking a lot about everything. I know that Seiros did something to me after I was born, something to my heart, and the only thing that makes sense... is that she put the goddess's Crest Stone inside me. [ she indicates the hollow in the sword's crossguard, looking up to meet hubert's eye again. ] The one that should have gone here.

[ she hesitates a moment. ]

It wasn't Church propaganda that I was Sothis's vessel, or that I'd received her power. But it was a Church plan.

Edited 2020-03-19 04:50 (UTC)

[A Crest Stone? Inside a person?]

[Such a concept was as ingenious and fascinating as it was repulsive and dangerous. The Church was rotten, of course, but that sounded like something that those who skulk in the darkness would come up with.]

The Goddess' Crest Stone? Hn. And such a thing granted you a connection with her. [He's mostly musing aloud, but then something clicks; Hubert's eyes widen slightly when his own words from years ago come rushing back to him.]

...It is as if you're in constant dialogue with something inside your heart... [He repeats in a murmur.]

You were more right than you thought. [ byleth smiles, thinly. she remembers.

all that said, she does miss talking with sothis. but she knows—or would like to think—that sothis would approve of the path she took, despite everything. ]

I... wasn't myself, for a very long time. Not completely. Most of what brought... feeling and clarity, I suppose, was standing with all of you.

[That he was more accurate than anticipated does chill Hubert a little, especially since that observation had been originally inspired by Thales. What a horrible irony that must be for her, too, now that she knew who he was.]

[But the chill gives that creeping paranoia under his skin an opening. Everything lines up, and it's heartening to hear of her allegiance described that way, but...]

And if that is the case, who does that make you now?

[Was his "professor" that other person? Were those glimpses of her real self? Would he have to learn her all over again? More variables, more unknowns, at the last time he needed them.]

... I'm still figuring that out, Hubert. But I'm still the Flame Emperor's wings, I can promise you that. Still General Eisner. [ still edelgard's guide. she sounds a bit frustrated as she says it, like it's a question that's troubled her as well. ] The person I've been all this time, the one you know... that's still me. It's just... complicated.

Edited (reasons) 2020-03-22 07:39 (UTC)

[Hubert merely stares. It's the same searching, piercing look he used to give her all those years ago. But for all Byleth's frustration, the flickers of expression, it didn't tell Hubert anything more than it used to. In a way, he really did have to learn how to study her again.]

[In the end, Hubert heaves a sigh, dipping his head forward just enough to press a knuckle against the bridge of his nose. Everything lined up, even with all the new information. At this point, he was just searching for ghosts that weren't there.]

[He hates this roiling feeling of being uncertain and rattled.]

...I see. Regardless, your company is welcome. [A deep breath, and the tense lines of paranoia smooth from his composure. Hubert offers his usual prim bow.] These dreams always are a crude introduction to this world. The state you're in can't have made it any kinder.

[ byleth was prepared to have to prove herself to him again, but she would be lying if she didn't find it a relief to see the tension slip away from him.

despite his... decidedly less than warm initial behavior towards her after they met, she's quite fond of hubert, and places a good deal of trust in him. it would have... hurt, she thinks, for something so out of her control to damage their friendship. ]

Thank you, Hubert. It's been... a bit of a misadventure, so far. [ understatement. still, she offers him a slight smile. ] I'm only sorry that I couldn't be here sooner... even if Edelgard seemed pleased about my timing. I understand you've both been on Geardagas for about six months?

[...Sooner as Hubert would've preferred her arrival, he is glad she wasn't here to witness his chain of mishaps Edelgard had to bail him out of, back when Hubert was a new Witch.]

Yes, that's about right. Spring has just begun, by their calendar. Winter is far shorter here.

["A misadventure" is a great way to encapsulate the Geardagas experience.]

The city we reside in, Aefenglom, is in turmoil from both internal and external pressures. It's tremendous in size, and unfathomably dense in population.

Coming from the Great Tree Moon, at least that isn't much of an adjustment.

[ byleth hums in thought. she wonders what makes the seasons different here. ]

How advanced is it? Edelgard said it was a strange place, that it would be easier for me to understand if I saw it for myself... but I do wonder how their society compares to ours. [ if it's that large and dense, then surely disease must be rampant...? unless they've devised solutions. ]

[Hubert shakes his head. As many times as he's heard it, it makes it no stranger to hear someone say it was only just Great Tree Moon. From his perspective, it's been nearly half a year since his birth month.]

Beyond Fódlan's capabilities... but it's difficult to say how much of that is due to the nature of their magic.

[One of the arms folded across his chest comes away, palm up. Mist begins to swirl in it, then it reforms into the shape of a sparrow. The mist-bird hops to his fingers, tweeting as if it were real.]

[His magic always is stronger in these dreams. That would've taken more effort, normally.]

This land's magic is far more ubiquitous. It is in the land, the air, the sky as much as it is people, and woven seamlessly with their technological advancements. It is... a thing of will and intent rather than reason or faith, and boasts far greater potential—and far greater prices.

[It only takes a mental nudge to prompt the mist-sparrow to flutter over to the rim of the docked boat.]

[ byleth watches the sparrow construct, fascinated. ]

... That sounds more to my liking. I'd like to think that I'm a serviceable mage, but I find it hard to keep the formulas running in my head during battle, and... well. [ she exhales, shaking her head. ] Faith.

[ her connection to sothis had helped her excel in that department, but it's not something she can see herself usefully calling upon now. not after everything that's happened. ]

I cast what felt like Dark Spikes T earlier, in the caves. I wasn't sure how, before... [ she's never been able to properly get her head around dark magic. ]

Don't be fooled by the dream. Reality is much harsher—in my first dream I could weave spells flawlessly that I've only successfully duplicated a month ago. It fills your head with fleeting knowledge, like waking from a slumber you can hardly recall.

There is a Witch's organization, with classes not unlike those of the monastery. The Coven teaches regularly about a great number of their magic's facets; it seems to be common for a Witch's talents to be drawn to two particular schools.

[He waves a hand lazily at the bird.] "Conjuration," as they call it, is one of mine. Depending on the nature of the spikes, it may be yours, as well—that, or evocation, if I am to guess.

I never thought that I would miss Hanneman's seminars. [ never mind that it was always her idea when a seminar was held for the black eagles. ] Thank you, Hubert. I'll... try to keep that in mind. It wouldn't do to wake up and have a fire spell backfire on me.

[ she finally turns her attention back to her friend from his conjured bird, leaning forward a bit. ]

How has life treated you in Aefenglom? You look well, but... [ hubert's always been one to keep up appearances, regardless, and it's been six months in a strange new world. she's allowed to be concerned. ]

[Considering he was about as genuinely expressive as an aloof cat on both good days and bad. Appearances were important, especially when something was wrong. Granted, it sounds like they avoided the worst of the new world's recent ongoings.]

It has not been without its trials. [And with absolutely no trauma whatsoever. None. Hubert shakes his head.] Even accounting that is a reality foreign to our own... it is a wild place, utterly unpredictable at its heart. Even the natives find recent events to be tumultuous.

It's frustratingly difficult to remain prepared, but nothing has been insurmountable.

[ byleth nods, finally, after watching his face for a few seconds. she's never been great at reading others, but she still knows hubert well enough to pick up on his omissions. ]

I'm glad to hear that much, at least. If you ever want my help, of course, you only have to ask. [ open-ended phrasing, naturally. she means both material and emotional support, but she can't help but suspect that open sentimentality wouldn't land well with him. ]

[Hubert was a fantastic liar, but it was a skill he knew to employ sparingly. Omission was by far his greatest tool, and it was a habit that crept in even with those he was close. Well, what passed for "close" with Hubert.]

Something that I will remain considerate of, and grateful for. For now... it seems I will be playing the tutor, doesn't it?

It would seem so.

[ her face softens a bit, briefly, before settling back to her default expression. ]

What's your opinion of Corrin, Hubert? Edelgard told me some things about her, and I met her earlier, but... [ look. she just wants his take. ]

Corrin?

[There's mild surprise in his tone at the subject shift. His arms return to their crossed position, his fist settling below his chin again.]

She's impulsive, careless, and at times, foolish. Her work ethic leaves much to be desired. Why?

[His tone was remarkably neutral for the words selected. But then, coming from Hubert, nearly everyone was impulsive and/or lazy, so mileage may vary.]

Edited 2020-03-31 04:07 (UTC)

[ she nods, considering that. by hubert's standards that's... mild, at least? that seems to line up well enough with her initial impressions of the girl too.

it doesn't even occur to her that hubert may mean why she's asking in general. ]

Because you've known her longer, and I value your opinion. In all things, but... well, particularly when Edelgard is involved.

Edited 2020-03-31 06:19 (UTC)

TDM: MARCH

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