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TDM: MARCH
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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 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.With that taken care of...
• 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. |
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That's all it is, the finality of death bleeding the last of an exhausted lie out of him. Itachi levels his gaze to the floor. Off to their right, the worm has ceased its throes and fallen utterly silent, its corpse lit only by the otherworldly glow of foreign life around them. Several excruciating moments pass without reply. At last, as though dragged out of the depths of his chest:]
So you know.
[Sasuke is older, that isn't his imagination. Even the way he'd fought, removed from their natural abilities, had struck him as more refined than memory could recall.
Yet beyond the disguise of who he was to Sasuke in life, there's little else to be found. There's little purpose to a dead man walking. His head lifts, but he's studying his younger brother without earlier's intensity, not the scrutiny meant to pick apart what might be going on in Sasuke's mind. Without need to twist Sasuke's reality in one specific direction, what else can be said?
The circumstances of that discovery... well, he already has an idea. It's not what he wanted.]
How?
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His brother is fresh from a shedding of his past persona, one ripped away by a singular event that Sasuke's loath to relive. He had smiled when his brother died, but being brought back to that moment engenders no similar reaction now. Relief turned into responsibility just as Itachi's responsibility turned into relief and the bliss of ignorance is too far gone for either of them to pretend right now.
Perhaps it's good. They both need a break. But he'll be damned if he can say he thinks he's ready to do this again, to live this again, to lose him. Again.
Sasuke averts his gaze with a sudden intake of breath, sword sheathed just as quickly to cover it. ]
Konoha is safe, [ he returns instead, voice quieter now to aid in its steadiness. ] So am I. You succeeded; everything else is a detail, Itachi.
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Not an answer to his question. No quick give of the information he's asked, that he wants, although it's true he can draw his own conclusions - and perhaps the incident is so far in Sasuke's past now it wouldn't matter how he'd discovered. Or, perhaps it was recent. He finds his mind guessing over these wonders with painful, private desperation, because it's easier than confronting what Sasuke actually tells him.
And how it makes him feel.
Itachi closes his eyes, half-turned away, a position notably vulnerable were they in battle. When he opens them again, he's staring down at his feet. Eventually he manages to rise and stand again. Overall, it's an outward nonreaction to what Sasuke has told him except for what's there between the lines: the slowness to reply, the wariness to face him, the words he chooses next.]
I believe you.
[Everything else is a detail Sasuke won't share, or isn't sharing, at this moment. He sees that too. He also recognizes the strangeness of the moment, and he's fine leaving it to later. Assuming later comes.]
Where are we?
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Before when he saw him again, there was no time for reunion. Now... there's nothing to distract him from the man he loves more than any other.
And he has no idea what to say to him. ]
We're... [ Words die before he steels himself, hiding a clearing of his throat as best as he can. ] It's another dimension. I was brought here two months ago, through no power of mine. This specifically is a shared dream that the residents are often forced to endure; I don't know if you'll be brought here after we wake.
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Itachi wipes off the kunai, then pockets them back into the holster around his waist.]
I see. That would be for the best.
[He'll live out the rest of this surreal event, and return to death afterward. Itachi looks toward the lake, landing further down now that he's closer to the edge, spying the shape of boats near the bottom.]
It appears there is a route to continue deeper in, where the lake feeds into another tunnel.
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He sounds more sure of himself now, however, the last needed sign that he isn't the teenager Itachi had last seen, hanging on his every word and desperate for his approval even right up to the very end. The distance between them has shrunk, even in his death. ]
I need you to say it. What it is that you remember last, so that I know.
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Itachi can't possibly deny his younger brother such a simple request. The only trouble is deciding how to meet it without causing even more harm. He's overly cautious of that, now, what a misstep might do in this conversation; it was easier to pretend to be who Sasuke thought he was. Perhaps it still is.]
You already know.
[Because there's really nothing else. Itachi lived from point A to B, and everything in between had been meaningless.]
We fought, as I had planned.
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His throat closes tight at the confirmation of what he had already known. "We fought". Sanitized, distanced words that they both practice using. Why neuter them now? He wants to hear the truth; at least then he'd get an indication of how Itachi feels.
You watched me die.
Maybe he doesn't know, yet. ]
... I'm sorry. You don't know yet how much.
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[This comes at last, seeming to break through the icy layer of disassociation beneath which everything else is molten and churning. It isn't that he feels nothing. Rather, he's pushed all of it too far down for so many enduring years, that it's unnatural to summon it up now. To be honest. To be open. It's as impossible as reaching into the past and changing what was done.
However, he won't allow Sasuke to apologize to him for something that was never his fault.]
I won't ask for your forgiveness. If what you've said is true, [and both Konoha and Sasuke are safe and well,] then I have no regrets.
[Surely his younger brother was The Hero of the story as intended, and not a murderous terrorist!]
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In some part of his mind he knows that Itachi's death is not entirely on his shoulders, that it was an event planned by people that weren't himself. That he was guided very purposefully along that path by Konoha elders and Itachi himself, even if he regularly toed the line and stretched the limits of it as much as he could. And yet...
His guilt doesn't care. It hadn't cared when he woke up in the hospital, age eight, and returned to a compound stained with blood and empty. Only him, alive. All it did was grow larger.
It hadn't cared when he learned the truth about Itachi, bound by Obito and desperate to pin the blame on anyone else. It grew larger.
Now, that one apology is all he can do to lessen it even a fractional amount, and he hesitates in taking a step forward. No. Even if he wanted to embrace his brother, he doesn't know that he'd have the courage to go through with it. It doesn't pass his tests or seem wise; subjecting Itachi to that without warning could be damaging to both of them, couldn't it? ]
I knew you would say that. Still... know that I forgave you a long time ago now.
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Stunned and struck cold, Itachi's black gaze falls to the stone, focusing his own feet into his field of vision. There's no blur, no red tinge. The sight he sees through now is wholly unfamiliar. For the last years of his life, he's not sure how often he ever saw the world like this: crystal clear, detailed color, void of chakra. It really is a dream.
What can he say to Sasuke? That he accepts his forgiveness? It feels too meager, too understated. It's impossible to grasp and contain or even identify his own reaction except by how it occurs in him physically - the twist of his gut, the tightness in his chest, the rounding of shoulders. As though bearing the weight of Sasuke's confession is just too much.
The minutes that pass feel long and eternal. Uncharacteristically, his composure slips... a weak fracture in his voice as he manages,] I... [then lapses back into quiet. I don't deserve that. Is that what he meant to say?
Another attempt.]
I'm glad you're well, Sasuke.
DON'T DO THIS TO ME
His brother bows his head for a moment as shoulders hike higher and then drop, knowing full well what the waves of emotion feel like in himself but to see them reflected in Itachi makes him freeze up. His eyes widen for a moment, expression caught in a strange mixture of unease and conflict as he processes what he's seeing. His brother is human, just like he is. For years it had become too easy to see him as something greater, more impervious.
The hitch in his voice is like a crack in Sasuke's own chest, realizing just as quickly that any attempt on his own part to speak will result in a clenched throat and rebellious tongue. He takes a moment, breathes, collects himself. ]
So am I. I've had years now to come to terms with things... I'm nineteen-years-old.
You would be proud of the changes Konoha has made.
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He had come to peace with it, or so told himself, nearly a decade ago. What logic was there to wish otherwise? It was impossible. And nothing else could hold him to the living world, after the event of his death, so an end was an end.
... Yet now, studying his brother and all of those minute changes of maturity and age and skill with a fervor hard to suppress within himself, he doesn't know how to proceed. Itachi takes a step closer almost mechanically, then stops.
Less perceptive eyes have adjusted to the shrouded darkness of the cave by now. They fall to Sasuke's side, connecting details to what he saw of earlier's one-handed combat.]
What happened?
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That step forward materializes a lump in his throat, heart rate accelerating unbidden. ]
What– [ He follows Itachi's eyes, realization setting in a moment later. ]
... a needed conversation, between myself and Naruto. This was the result of our fight.
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You've grown.
[That much was already clear through what he's seen, but still he obeys a desire to vocalize it.]
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You say that now, after that? After I tell you I fought with him... but then he's too stubborn to listen any other way. So am I.
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[None of this feels natural, but neither is it unpleasant. If it's truly a dream, then it's a better dream than he deserves. One he wouldn't mind spending time in.]
There is more I would ask, but... perhaps we should find a way out of this cave first.
[There's so much they could discuss, yet that's still uncertain territory, and he's not clear on how much time they have. He needs to be selective. He can't simply ask Sasuke to recount all the years he's missed, much as he might wish to know.]