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TDM: July
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aefenglom's test drive! All threads can be considered game canon, should you choose to do so; regardless of if you pick specific threads to remain canon to the game, the prompts and test drive itself will be. This will be touched on later in-game, so it's fairly important to note! Aside from that, here are some quick reminders:• Reserves Open Today! If you're interested in securing a spot, put one in! We accept applications without reserves too, of course. Reserves will expire three days before the end of the application period, on the 28th.With that taken care of...
• Applications Open The 24th! These will last until the end of the month, the 31st, with the intro log going on up the 1st. The application page can be found here.
• If you have any questions about the game or the world, please refer to the FAQ page; if you still have questions, feel free to ask them! For questions specific to the test drive, please ask them on the appropriate thread.
• For the purposes of the test drive, your character will have access to all magics taught by the Coven if they're a Witch, and as much of their shifted form as you'd like if they're a Monster. Feel free to play around and experiment with each!
• 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 Living Forest
It feels warmer than it should be. Hot, dry, dark. The sky above all but black- save for the ominous orange glow against the distant horizon. In the gloaming there’s a resonant smell of decay; of musty pine and sun-baked wood and, more worryingly, the distant scent of smoke, of ash. There’s no wind to speak of, and yet… something whispers. The shiver of leaves, the crack of dry branches- and if you listen long enough, almost… the sound of voices in the trees.
 Controlled Burn The forest you find yourself in is still alive- for now. Ash filters through the browning leaves like snow, dotting the path you’ve found yourself on in bone white fragments. Following the rustling leads it to grow all the more frantic, whispered voices speaking without words- or perhaps you simply cannot understand. You feel as though you’re being watched, the tree clusters growing thicker, tighter and- is it just your imagination, or… are they moving? Suddenly before you an old oak splits with a thunderous crack- followed by a deafening scream. Gnarled, blackened hands reach from within the tree, scraping at your clothes, agony wrought through every striation of her features as the infection spreads. Before you, the tree withers as the nymph falls into the dirt, long fingers tearing up the earth as she crawls towards you. Understanding comes to you in stark clarity: the noises through the trees are a cry for help. Before your very eyes the leaves of her once lush hair dries; cracks and breaks away, falling to join the ashen forest floor. With pleading eyes she gazes at you, before her eyes roll back, and she collapses, utterly still. And she’s not the only one; the forest is alive, the very trees reaching for you, roots clawing up to crack open the earth itself in their desperation. Don’t let them touch you, though. The infection spreads quickly. Branching through your veins and leaving your limbs sluggish, heavy, and brittle. The feeling is utterly agonizing, reminiscent of having poured molten lava into your blood. The longer the infection is left untreated, the more, and faster it spreads, the worse the pain becomes. The trees know, they whisper the truth: the only way to cleanse yourself is through the fire. |
 Creeping Fire Not all nymphs have met such a terrible fate. Not yet, at least. Some huddle together, their branching arms clinging to one another as they softly weep. Others walk willingly towards the distant orange glow with grim determination. Still others implore you with wide, fearful eyes to do something- anything to help them. Surely these new abilities you’ve found yourself with must be good for something. They lead you to a natural amphitheatre; the slow sloping blackened earth sinking into a gully bordered by a high rock wall. The heat is the most bearable here; the area cooled by the towering stone. Wilting nymphs huddle together along with sympathetic faun. Those who have skills in manipulating water are a welcome relief; these tree spirits are desperate for it. But this temporary refuge won’t last for long. The infection wants to spread. Like rabies, maddening its’ hosts and raising their aggression. And where better to draw from than the root of this sanctuary? Where the stone wall rises and provides shelter from the fire, so too does it trap these refugees in… Defend against the infected, before all hope is lost. |
 Staging Area Past the disease, the horror and cries for help, there is a genuinely quiet place. It isn’t much, compared to how things used to be, but there’s a clearing scarred at the edges with scorch marks instead of Cwyld, with the beginnings of plants sprouting once more. Baby grass clusters in small groups, small stems pushing out of the ashen ground with hopeful buds. Some earlier bloomers already casting vibrant colors to what was once a meadow. It’s serene, it’s peaceful, it’s an area that’s been cleansed by fire and Cwyld kept at bay by Witches at least a century out of fashion, though they don’t seem to respond to outside presences with how focused they are. Those taking breaks from their turn on the edge offer greetings and air worries about the spreading taking root in the forest, but (like the Fae in the first dream, for those who recall) don’t say much else unique, wondering if they’ll be able to return home anytime soon and if this was truly worth the effort. Of course it is, an older one might snap back. In a war of attrition, all efforts are worthy. However, this isn’t the only camp they’ve set up. There’s one not too far off that begins with frost and ends in a frozen area of land, sound muffled by cold and everything from the trees to nymphs so iced not even a dragon’s flame could melt it. Inquiries about this area result in some sheepish looks, and the answer of how some Witches became a little excited at the idea of putting surviving nymphs and the rest of the flora into a form of dormancy and overdid it, a bit. |
Alphys | Undertale
Alphys is not the outdoorsy type, and she's definitely not the heroic type, so it's anyone's guess as to why she's out here facing the encroaching forest fire. She wants to turn tail and run, but she's not sure in which direction safety lies. And that's when the tree splits open, and a nymph claws her way out.
"O-oh, gosh, are you okay, lady-" Any other day, Alphys might be flattered by a cute girl coming up to her unannounced, but something is clearly wrong here, and she finds herself trying to scurry backwards. The nymph is still too fast for her, and clings to Alphys' coat, holding her in place as roots burst from the ground and wrap themselves around the monster's feet.
The heat rises up through the rest of her body through her feet, going from uncomfortable to downright agonizing in mere moments. Heat's never particularly bothered her before- she lives in Hotland after all- but this heat hurts. Alphys grips the sides of her head as her vision swims.
"H...help...?"
B: The quiet place (faun)
Away from the fire, things are peaceful. It's actually kind of nice, she thinks to herself, before realizing that she just thought about how nice nature is. Since when! Alphys would rather be holed up in her room, basking in the glow of her computer monitor instead of out here in the woods!
Still, it's enough to let her catch her breath for a minute in the middle of all this chaos, so she wanders through a clearing looking for a spot to sit down and rest her feet. She picks a little patch of grass that looks soft (not as soft as her desk chair!! She reminds herself), and plops down. As her hands touch the newly sprouted grass, it almost seems to move and... grow a little taller? Maybe it's just a trick of the light, and Alphys doesn't seem to notice, anyway. "W-what a day..."
C: WILDCARD
[come at me bro (ง •̀_•́)ง]
A
Remedy Fantasia!
[Suddenly, the forest floor turns into a field of colorful flowers, spreading out and pushing the infection back, reaching to the foot of the tree. Teal songbirds, like straight ut of disney movie, flutter down and land on the shoulders of Alphys and the nymphs, singing a little bird song before disappearing into light. Alphys will start to feel better as the infection gets purified. The nymph on the other hand, was too far gone and shrieks as it starts to crumble apart.
That's right. You're getting saved by a disney princess.]
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D-did you do this?
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Yeah, glad I got here in time. Are you alright?
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[She looks down at herself and sees the roots are gone. Well, of course, the burning sensation is also gone.]
I-I'm okay now, I think. I don't really want to hang around here anymore...
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[He puts the violin bow somewhere away in a pocket (witches have hammerspace okay). The violin itself glows brightly before becoming a full sized staff.]
Yeah, I can't blame you. It isn't safe here. Let's find you a safe spot, okay?
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O-ok... I'm pretty sure I'm lost so I wouldn't know which way to go. Where are we, anyway?
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Um...good question! [Welp] I know this is a dream tied to Geardagas, so we're somewhere there....but where in Geardagas we are...I'm not sure.
[Reassuring!]
B-But I know there's a camp not far from here. I saw it on my way here.
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[She doesn't sound very confident.]
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Yeah, this is a dream...sorta.
Geardagas is a land different from yours. If you're having this dream though, there's a chance you'll find yourself in Geardagas in the near future.
The not-so-quiet place
About the only thing Alphys hasn't noticed about this clearing, so far, is the monster dozing against a tree. His ears twitch and perk up at the sound, and he stretches with a slight popping of bones.
"These dreams are getting more frightening every time," Papyrus complains in solidarity. The bad memories in his first, the destroyed city in his second, the aggressive mazes in each of those... And now starting out in an area of corruption and fire. So unpleasant. "I think I'd rather see bad memories..."
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"Oh, h-hey Papyrus, I didn't see you the-AAAAUGH!" Can you guess the exact moment when she puts her glasses back on?
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"Huh?! What is it?" His ears flick back at the scream, and he whips around to check behind him for more corrupted nymphs, or sudden fire, or... whatever inspired that. His tail flicks low and slowly a few times as he scans back and forth, but... there's nothing he can see.
After a few seconds of searching, he calls back over his shoulder. "Was there something there?? I don't see any roots, or.. anything?"
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When he calls back to her, it takes her a moment to find her voice again.
"You have HAIR. And EARS." She points accusingly. "S-skeletons don't HAVE those!"
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"I, uh... You aren't wrong, these aren't skeleton things! They're... uh..." He slouches harder as he searches for words.
If it weren't for the ears, maybe one could take the furry mane around his head as a red hoodie, the rest of the fur as cosplay. But the ears twitch and shift with his emotions. He puts one hand up to an ear, as if to check that it's still there or to hide it, and slouches harder.
"...This is a dream?" He offers. It's not a lie, it is a dream, and he doesn't have all this fur in reality... most of the time.
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It makes perfect sense! Mettaton didn't really get infected with some zombie fire disease, Papyrus isn't actually a wereskeleton, and she's definitely not enjoying sitting here in this nice little forest clearing.
"That does it, no more super spicy noodles right before bed!"
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"I'm... sure that might help!" Who knows, it might. It's as plausible an explanation as any other - in a dream plagued by fire and roots, spicy noodles could be the culprit in some tangled way.
Though, he doesn't remember eating any lately, himself...
"But!" Papyrus coughs out. "In the meantime! I should warn you, it's a very... immersive dream, really realistic about stuff like, uh, being painful. And some of it might become realer, later, if you spend time around magic mirrors..."
He trails off, remembering that Steven once warned him about the mirrors, and then he got caught anyway. No sense giving her advice that she might not be able to prevent.
"Well, just take away my advice not to get caught by roots, or tar, or walking too long in fire, okay?"
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She flops on her back, feeling the soft earth underneath her head and staring at the sky peeking through the canopy overhead. It's... nice...?
"Well... I don't really want to get up just yet."
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"When you put it that way..." Far be it from him to hurt her with warnings, when she might get lucky - and might not even be real. "Yeah! It's probably fine."
He shifts to lean against the tree again, still taking a needed break off his feet, and looks around them. Things seem much the same as when Alphys shouted at him. The trees are still acting like trees, sitting there peacefully. There's hints of smoke and fire in the distance, giving the horizon an orange glow, but the flames haven't reached this far. The sky above is dark, nearly black, but it's sky - no signs of rock, or glowing blue crystals studded throughout it.
"It's been a couple months... but it really is a different view, isn't it?"