![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
TDM: July
- Welcome to
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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. |
no subject
Except Peridot just looks super confused. She scrunches up her snout. ]
Ummm. It's... a continent?
[ Which answers his question in a way... ]
no subject
[ This is not actually the dumbest leap to make, just -- you know, very wrong. He doesn't yet realize that when he wakes from this dream, he won't be back anywhere familiar. ]
no subject
Uhhh... Sure! [ A beat. ] I also definitely know what an onionomancer is!
no subject
You're a dragon and you're unfamiliar with standard tenets of magic?
[ He doesn't think she's a dragon, at least, not the kind from his world, but it's the closest shorthand. What else does she look like? Not a kitten. ]
no subject
I wasn't always a dragon, you know. [ She huffs defensively. ] This is a pretty recent development for me.
no subject
How am I supposed to know that? [ --sounds much less aggressive out loud than it does in print, despite his gravelly voice. It almost sounds like he might be laughing, faintly exasperated at this whole thing. He has no idea what's going on. ]
no subject
[ She's still a bit ruffled, but not enough to harp on the point. She just doesn't like being made to feel like a dummy, okay?? Yeesh.
She launches into a proper explanation without further prompting: ]
This planet-- The real one, not just this messed up dream version-- can alter the outsiders it pulls through from other realms to make them fit more comfortably into it's environmental logic. In other words, it changes you. It might give you magic powers, or it might slowly turn you into a monster. So that's how I went from being the most perfect specimen of a peridot that Homeworld ever produced, to being covered in lizard scales.
no subject
The dream only extends to people in the area you're speaking of? Which would mean we're both there?
[ He frowns. What the f u c k. ]
no subject
no subject
[ At least he's not in the middle of anything immediately pressing, but still, this would be enormously inconvenient. Unlike his daughter, he doesn't have the ability to just skip town to a new dimension in the blink of an eye. ]
How do we get out of here?
no subject
[ Sorry Geralt! ]
no subject
[ Look he's SEEN SOME SHIT don't you deadpan sass the deadpan sass og, madam. Or he'll ... stand here uselessly some more. ]
Since obviously the desire to wake up isn't working like a normal lucid dream.
no subject
She just blinks, slowly, and doesn't shift an inch. ]
Nnnnnope. Trust me, I've been through three of these stupid things before this one. I'm pretty certain that if there was a way to force this dream to end, I would have discovered the method by now.
no subject
do nothing. ]
What's the point of this, then? Do you just sit here and deal with it until it's over?
no subject
No one really knows what the point is. At least one of them seemed to be some kind of omen, if you believe in that sort of thing... But then again, we found evidence that the first dream that any of us experienced might have been set some time in the past. It's really obnoxiously unclear.
no subject
[ It sounds .. not actually that obnoxiously unclear. Muddled and difficult, yes, and Geralt has no way of guessing whether it's deliberately like this or if it's because they're trapped within the confines of some other type of being, communicating the only way it can. But the way this is constructed has to be purposeful, it's too coherent to be random. ]
no subject
[ To say nothing of the ghosts and the bodies found in the harbor and the creepy minotaur skeleton, among a myriad of other odd things. ]
no subject
[ Unless it's just a meaningless nightmare. The chances of that being so are about as high as it all meaning something, but in Geralt's experience, total randomness concerning weird collective phenomena is rare. ]
no subject
The locals were particularly upset by it. Something about the incident occurring at the same time as one of their local holidays? They're the ones who are most convinced that it was meant to be some kind of "omen".
no subject
[ Is it good or bad that spooky mysteries are solidly in his wheelhouse? Geralt is a professional, sure, but he's a professional who's been thinking about taking some time off. Now, no matter where he wakes up, he has the distinct impression he won't be tracking down Yennefer or returning to the ruins of Kaer Morhen for a break. ]