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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. |
crystal caverns.
Whoa! Watch it!
[ Waver yelps, ducking under the sweep of his flung-out wing. He scowls up at the stranger, still in a crouch with his arm over his head, staring accusingly at the Harpy and the unnerving cave around him.
Yes, this is a dream. A familiar-feeling dream. He's dreamt like this before, and it rarely seems to bode... well. ]
<3
He flashes a smile, filled with razorblade teeth. Manages to make the expression apologetic despite that.]
Oh. I'm sorry my dear, I'm just ah, well I'm not quite used to having them, I suppose. Didn't realise they'd take up quite so much space.
no subject
[ Weirdly enough, Waver seems understanding, though still a bit annoyed, evidenced mostly by the twitchiness of his black ears. They look almost catlike, but on further observation, the curly, fluffy tail is far more that of a dog. ]
Right. Have fun with your big wings. I don't know a thing about flying, but this is a dream, isn't it? You should be able to figure it out... probably.
no subject
[He says it with a detached kind of interest, glances down at his ink-dark talons, the gleam of them bright in the cavern's eerie blue glow.]
Funny sort of dream. I can't say I've had one like this before but...well, you're right, I suppose. It should be easy enough, shouldn't it?
[There's the impulse in him to spread his wings again, the dark heft of them against his back a sudden insinutation into his consciousness. The desire for flight something close to physical suddenly, an ache somewhere behind his breastbone, a quick catch of breath at the thought of it. Only his near-miss with knocking the...dog...man...down has him hesitating. Unwilling to risk it again.]
If I'm a harpy, that makes you a...?
[An empty pause, a gap waiting to be filled.]
no subject
What he doesn't know is if this is a "real" person or just a dream figment or if any of it matters, ultimately. He's sure he's met some people in these dreams that he knows in life, but not so sure that he can actually be without a doubt certain that anyone here could be "real" when he wakes up.
Dream logic drifts through his thoughts like sand through a tattered sifter, falls away uselessly. Waver sighs. ]
I don't know for sure, but I think you look like a Harpy. A type of "Monster."
[ The way he says it, the air quotes are practically visible in his tone. He doesn't like that word. ]
At least, that's what the citizens of Aefenglom call them... dunno if you've heard of Aefenglom. Or any of it.
I'm a...
[ Waver shifts his weight uncomfortably, glancing down self-consciously, his ears wilting slowly to the side.
Flat had told him he's more human than anyone else, but saying aloud that he's not feels... strange. The dream world feels so vague and yet so real all at the same time. ]
...a Turnskin. It means a type of shapeshifter. There are many different type, but I suppose you'd say I'm a- a canine type.
Just like there are different types of Harpies, like different birds.
no subject
This, though. This is something new. It holds all the trappings of surreality, feels exactly as a dream should feel, if not for the lucidity of it. The fact that he's quite aware he's dreaming. The fact that it seems bigger, wilder, more intricately detailed, than anything he's accustomed to.
He prefers it, he thinks, to the way his dreams usually pan out. Strange bird-features and all.]
Ah! Well, if there are different types of birds then I suspect I'm some sort of corvid after all. What do you think? Think I make a good raven?
[he says it with a glittering smile, spins a quick turn for the other man's benefit, though he makes a special effort to keep his vast wings tucked close this time.]
I can't say I have ever heard of...of Aefengom, did you say? And ah, if you don't mind me saying so, Monsters seems a rather blunt way of putting it, doesn't it?
[He may have considered himself monstrous at certain times throughout his recent past, but using it as a label to describe anyone else, to affix to the canine-looking young man in front of him-- it doesn't sit quite right.]
no subject
[ Waver would say he smells like one, but that seems too rude, and none too flattering for him either. He shrugs, looking away. ]
I didn't come up with it. It's just what people here say.
Trust me, I'm not fond of it either.
no subject
Hmmm. Well...I suppose if people around here are used to it, perhaps it doesn't have the same connotations as it does for me. Still. It's ah, it's not a word I'd want to go around calling people.