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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. |
simple Parmesan
Her armor, rich color warped by the contrasting cave lights, isn't strange to him. In Faerghus anyone with such a fine set would wear it often, even to peaceful occasions.
Which this may or may not be, depending on the other creatures that dwell in the cavern.
He's opened his mouth to ask about such beasts when she changes the subject.] Ah.
[His focus blurs, and suddenly he's looking back into fires and unrecognizable people crying for help.
A blink, then he's back in reality.] There was a tragedy in the village of Remire - their homes were destroyed, and so many lost their lives.
[He inhales sharply - he can still smell the lingering scent of fire and flesh.]
We strung the entrails of the ones responsible through the streets. [And that's when his smile returns, polite and proud of a good deed.]
the good, smelly stuff.
Dimitri wasn't at Remire...? At least, not in her timeline. And she thanked the Goddess she had cast aside for that. Despite all his faults, despite him choosing the Church, and perhaps in spite of all the rage he'd thrown at her, she never truly wished to see him suffer. Remire had been ugly business, enough that even her stomach had been curdled, and it had further cemented why Solon and his ilk had to die.
But imagining what it was like for Dimitri? Well, it was not hard to imagine what nightmare he'd envisioned. Though his smile was disturbing.]
...I see.
[She takes another step forward, fully encompassing him in the light.]
I suppose then, that more is at play than simply you being behind me in the timeline. Which complicates matters, just a little.
[Pursing her lips...]
Walk with me? We should find a place to sit and talk. I believe I saw an alcove not far away, and I'd rather be there than out in the open should something with better eyesight than us come slithering out of the dark.
ugh!!!
This is one of the most peaceful dreams he's had in so, so very long.]
We can talk, but we should continue to walk. Perhaps we'll find someone else as we move. [Part of him is motivated by altruism, but another part simply knows the restlessness that will set in if he sits.
Aching legs, fingers that don't know what to do with themselves so they curl and clench, and the sensation of something breathing down his back.
All better avoided by keeping on the move.
Especially given the cryptic nature of her explanation. Dimitri knows nothing of timelines, and he doesn't like the thought of being behind Edelgard in any way. Though, clearly, he is in some regard, as she is in possession of her relic and he is not.]
but he's still a nice, murderous boar child.
You may have noticed that I am older than you are. And possessed of my relic, and the armor of the Adrestian Emperor. If Remire is the last thing you remember, then you are from five years in my past.
[Unless there was another incident that she was unaware of there that happened between her battl there and the Holy Tomb. The fact that the youth with her still has both eyes makes her believe otherwise, though.]
This...place...we are in is but a dream, Dimitri. A strange one, a dream that I've come to understand is a gateway to another world far from Fodlan. I realize that may sound outlandish, but have you ever known me to voice a theory I am uncertain of?
[Hopefully the other her from his world has been largely the same...]
no subject
Rhea had given Sylvain his relic at his insistence, so he'd simply assumed the same of her.
Now, of course, he feels a bit silly for misinterpreting all of this so easily.] I have read some notes of studies that sought other dimensions. Admittedly, the books in Abyss are in poor condition, and magic has never come easily to me...
But it does not sound impossible, no.
[He has often been accused of taking everything too seriously, but he'd argue that Edelgard outstrips him in the area.] Were we taken to this other world by some sort of attack, or... perhaps sent by the church? [Dimitri typically voices his theories as they develop, and now is no different.
Speaking out loud, it's easier to hear himself think.]
no subject
I can say with some certainty that we were not brought here by the Church, though I could not say whether or not this is an attack of some sort. This...gateway dream...is to another world where things sometimes do not make sense. It's a world in need of aid, a bleak place, beset by a contagion that taints the land around us. There are safe places, cities where we live, but much of the world is uninhabitable.
[She recalls saying this to Felix as well, a much more aggressive Felix.]
Perhaps we were called here by the world to give that aid. By fate, or chance. Or perhaps we were cast here by a subtle and insidious foe.
[It wasn't like Solon hadn't tried that with the Professor.]
I cannot say specifics, but I do know that it was not the doing of the Church. Rhea does not have that kind of power.
relic spelling is wild man
All of the books he'd read had been heretical in nature - beyond the care of the Goddess.
No, this was not Rhea's doing.] I see.
And am I correct to assume you're fighting for the plight of this other world? [No doubt he would do the same, were he cast away from his home. To watch people suffer and do nothing is unforgivable. Dimitri's gaze shifts to Aymr and his hands ache for the weight of Areadbhar.
So much is muddled in this dreamworld - memories disrupted, ages mismatched, and reality enshrouded in fog. His only clarity is anger... embers of it, flaring in the face of strife.]
it is.
You know me well enough to know the answer to that.
[She was indeed fighting for the people of this world. She'd been regularly patrolling, defending the people left outside the city's Bright Wall, or taking part in explorations to see what could be discovered for the people.]
I suspect you will do the same. All hands willing to aid the city we've been awakening in are welcome. [Even yours, boar prince.]
I've a question of my own for you, though. The Professor. Which class does she lead in your memories, Dimitri?
no subject
But caring. She'll be a good leader - he wishes nothing less for her.
For himself, as well, though that line of thought is best not followed now. He has his own crusade to fight, and it isn't in some far away world. Torn between wishing to help and hoping to wake up back in his academy bed, Dimitri welcomes the change in subject.
He holds his wrist at his hips, guarded only against his own strife.]
Ah.
He lead my class, and yours was headed by Professor Manuela. [Turns out it's easier to redirect his attention than he'd anticipated.
That's quite the divergence.]
no subject
[Edelgard's smiles faltered, slightly. Manuela, huh? That actually made a lot of sense. She was competent, experience, and skilled at all manner of things. She had a lot of respect for the diva, but she was hardly someone who could take Byleth's place in her heart.]
...Then that is where we diverge. Something...else...about this dream besides the more obvious strangeness is that it seems to pull people from differing variations of worlds.
In my version of Fodlan, Byleth was a woman, a woman who led the Black Eagles. And you were...you were spared the sight of Remire.
[A small mercy, she'd thought at the time. Nobody should have to see things like that, not if it could be helped.]
I was not. Though, I can assure you those responsible were dealt with properly.
no subject
It reaches his eyes; it tugs at a part of him he hasn't felt in years.
The Dimitri who played games with El, who traded hopes and fears with his friend, died years ago, but sometimes Dimitri feels his ghost.]
I trust that you brought them to justice.
[He's comforted by the thought of Edelgard bringing her axe down to crush their sickening throats. Monsters will be brought to the end they deserve, no matter the circumstance.]
And, I am certain a considerable amount has happened in the five years between us. I won't bore you by asking for the entire story, but...
Have we gone on to rule over a peaceful era? [He can hardly bear to ask - the glimmer of happiness has vanished. What a foolish question, when he has little regard for whether he inherits the throne or not.
But this is a dream, so he allows himself to entertain the fantasy where he has his revenge and ascends to rule and fix the wounds carved into Duscur and Fodlan alike.]
no subject
None were spared, justice was done.
[And then, her ability to give that reassurance dies. She knew that it would come to this, that she'd have to tell him one day. But so quickly? No.
She debates, briefly, of obscuring the truth. She debates outright lying, but no. This is an unavoidable fact in Aefenglom. And better to come from her, than to come from Hubert, or Sylvain, or Felix, or even Bernadetta. She'd been the one to move the first stone on the grand and cruel gameboard that the universe placed them on. She should be the one to own that move.]
No. At least, not immediately. But peace has found Fodlan, now.
[She moves a pace or two ahead of him, in his path, out of arms reach. Even in his younger years he was taller than she was, but despite looking up at Dimitri, she felt larger. Her hands clenched at her sides as she focused her gaze upon him, keeping the vampiric hypnosis power well in check.]
Five years ago...I made a move against an enemy force that had been oppressing our people from within for centuries. I led the Imperial Army against an ancient creature that held humanity's head down in the mud, an enemy that burned Fhirdiad in a fit of mad rage, and would have continued her secret reign for who knows how long. That enemy is dead, and Fodlan's people will no longer suffer under her shadow.
[She folds her arms, straightens her back, and sets herself.]
Justice was done, Dimitri. I only wish that you had joined with me.
this sure is going some kind of way
He listens carefully, unaware of how his breath quickens.
First, an unknown but powerful enemy. Capable of conspiracies that could topple nations. A foe he's dreamed of tearing to shreds for four years... even now he cannot put a face to them, but he knows they exist. He's found whispers of them, and she had expunged the rest.
At the cost of Fhirdiad...
Where was he?
Dead.
He must have been dead, a king cannot live while his city burns.] I...
[Where is his voice? He needs to speak-] As in Remire, you acted in my stead. For that, I thank you. I am sure that justice was brought to those villains.
And that my city - my people - did not burn in vain. [It's a satisfying enough end to some distant reality. When he wakes into his own, this will serve as a warning-
He wants to feel their bones shatter in his own hands - he needs to act.]
It certainly is, jfc.
...Do not give me too much thanks, Dimitri. Justice was done, and you have my word that in the future of my Fodlan, your city will be rebuilt and your people will prosper.
[Her voice remains steady and even, devoid of malice but also of warmth. It's not an empty platitude so much as it is simply a promise. She doesn't regard this youth as an enemy, and truthfully she had hoped he'd see the truth of things. It had been a vain hope, when he'd descended into madness, and he'd likely not even read the manifesto she'd had sent to the monastery and every noble house in the Kingdom and the Alliance.
There is, of course, a lot of information to cover.]
However, you were caught up in the enemy's schemes, and led the Kingdom against the Empire. The Dimitri I knew lost himself to rage, and Fodlan's true enemies stoked that and used it to their advantage. I do not even know if you ever truly understood what was going on, honestly. The enemies of your future are twofold. The first wears a benevolent mask, and is someone you know well, and the second hid within shadows, manipulating us all.
[She breathes out, her gaze hardening. This was going to be the bigger of the two explosive revelations she was going to have to drop on him. She's fairly certain Dimitri isn't as deeply religious as some, but she is also reasonably certain that he had been taken in by Rhea's charm.]
The first, and the one responsible for burning Fhirdiad, is none other than Rhea herself. She is not what she seems, Dimitri. She is an ancient beast, a dragon, taking a human shape.
no subject
Dimitri does not doubt the accusation, and in some way, it comforts him. He cannot forget his purpose, the grim task that overshadows all of his best intentions. Nothing, nothing can be done until his friends, his family, are laid to rest.
Should he fight with his last breath to that end, so be it.
With each word, Dimitri finds his focus faltering. He tries to take in Edelgard's accusation, her wild claims about Rhea's true identity and purpose.
But the ones hiding in the shadows. Those are the ones he needs to burn to ash-]
... I'll admit, it's difficult to understand. [He speaks slowly, distant.] What caused the Archbishop to start a war? [Dimitri's head throbs, as if his very flesh is growing impatient for answers. He has no deep love for Rhea, but neither does he suspect her of a great conspiracy.
His sights are somewhere darker - somewhere nestled in the Adrestian empire.]
no subject
No hiding this.]
I started the war, Dimitri. And before you speak, listen. Hear me out.
[She continues on, prepared to run right over his objections if need be. There's a desire in her to explain, but on her terms.]
Rhea was not...going to yield power peacefully. You cannot have missed what she was like, how bloodthirsty she was when it came to anyone who dared oppose her. I know you, of all people, must be aware of what she did to Ashe's surrogate father, so you must understand that conflict with her was inevitable. I managed to glean some insight into her machinations, and the lies she had been spinning for the last thousand years. So, I struck out against her with everything that I could.
[Her voice hardens, growing cold and distant. She has no love for Rhea, but her dislike of that monster pales in comparison to her feelings for Fodlan's true foe.]
She's not even the greatest threat facing Fodlan. She was just the one out in the open, but to get to the other, her powerbase needed to be broken.
no subject
She was always like that - and he always, always fell to her lead.
Nostalgia keeps him quiet now, even if this could be the last time such frayed memories will touch him.
In an instant, his mind warps her words. Revenge for Lonato, for the innocent people dragged into that conflict. But, no, that's wrong.
It's wrong.
Lonato was not innocent, and neither was Rhea. People died for a feud that did not involve them. And Edelgard had lit the flame of another, one that covered all of Fodlan and burnt Fhirdiad in its wake. She is not escaping a cycle, she is simply ensuring that the scar she carves into the continent is the deepest.
To cut out the venom running in its core.
Dimitri would happily die a beast in the mud for his revenge, but he does not intend to drag anyone to those depths with him.] I've heard your piece.
Now stop.
Don't try to tell me that this was all for the good of the people.
War never is.
no subject
Betraying no anger, no disappointment, no emotion whatsoever, Edelgard faces down the ghost of a man, for half an instant seeing his rage-twisted face all streaked with rain from that day six long months ago. It vanishes just as quickly, replaced by the youth, the ignorant child with no idea what horrors lurk beneath Fodlan.]
If a man is dying because of a festering organ, Dimitri, one must cut it out if that man is to survive. I have done so. I have ended the cycle started a thousand years ago.
[Her lip peels back a fraction, baring a pair of gleaming, white fangs that she doesn't even begin to care to hide.]
War is never pleasant, war is never good, but sometimes war is necessary. If you think for an instant it was a decision I made lightly, then you do not...and have not...ever truly listened to a word that I have said.
All I have done, I have done to ensure a future for humanity.
[Ironically, a humanity she no longer is allowed to share.]
/end?
You do nothing lightly. [El. He nearly speaks it but holds the name in his mouth. Clenches his teeth around it like he could gnash it to shreds and banish it from ever returning to his breath.
Of course, he cannot.
He chokes, instead, an audible sound of voice breaking in throat.] I understand why I did not join you.
And I do not think I ever would. [It's unfortunate, the sense of loss that is beginning to bloom violently in his chest, like a wound that will soon bleed out.]
I pray we do not find ourselves in such opposition in this place. [Part of him truly does hope for that, but it's just an excuse.
To give her a curt nod.
To walk away, even if it means turning and treading back over the path he'd already traveled.]