Entry tags:
TDM: July
- Welcome to
• 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. |




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[they weren't close enough yet, but Emerald felt confident enough to pull off that kind of statement anyway. this just looked like a horde of Grimm, albeit without their faces. nothing she hadn't fought before. nothing she hadn't killed before. she could've been a Huntress herself if things were a little different, right?]
[whatever. her hands worked to unlatch the chains inside her guns, attached to the blades. swinging out in an arc right now would be too dangerous with Scathach right next to her, so she just held on to the scythes by their short, metal hafts for the moment.]
These things have a hell of a reach. You good at staying out of the way?
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[ Even without the tremendous boons to her physical abilities granted by her status as a heroic spirit, Scathach acted with confidence, lashing out in a lunging swing of her spear as soon as the infected were close enough, cleaving several of them in half before leaping over the wave behind them, landing a short distance away to perform a similar attack on the group from behind. ]
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[she wasn't strong enough to yank it forward, but it got her a nice tether so she could keep track of it. running forward faster than even she was expecting, she sank the blade of her other scythe into the chest of the one she'd hooked. the time for banter would come later, when the world wasn't at risk. she yanked both her scythes back and swung out again, grabbing a larger group and closing the gap again to deliver the killing blow on each one with a wide slash at their necks.]
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If they push past you, fall back, and then push forward again! Hold your line!
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You think this is the first time I've been outnumbered?
[not a great move in a fight, but in unfamiliar terrain she needed her eyes where she could use them. something tingled along the back of her neck, something like anxiety but a little more nebulous (something she didn't know the name of, then) and she managed to dodge an incoming blow from behind. (they weren't linked occurrences, but damned if she'd be able to figure that one out right now.) with one blade plunged squarely between the shoulder blades of the one she was chasing, she blindly flung out her scythe behind her to try to wrap it around her attacker.]
[unfortunately, she saw the chain go slack as the weapon clattered to the ground. and with something bearing down on her, her gold eyes staring into its soulless white ones, her body locked up. she couldn't even scream out in her own defense.]
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Thanks.
[the word was quick, barely spoken, and she was back to fighting off these enemies in an instant. without her mind powers, not that they'd do her much good here, she could only fight so hard, and Scathach was right; this was a losing battle. but it wasn't lost yet. she retracted her scythes and decided to use these legs for something useful. just as quick, she got low to the ground and pushed off, darting through the masses while still holding her line and making as many of them bleed as possible.]
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Where did you learn to fight like this?
[she'd made her way close enough to Scathach to try for conversation, even if her voice was coming out on heavy breaths. a grunt punctuated her latest attack as she pulled her blade out of some thing's sternum.]
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And I learned by fighting and winning, growing stronger and wiser with each victory.
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So you're just this good. [a smirk, though she couldn't maintain it for too long before she needed to move and kill a few more things. Emerald was well below Scathach's skill level and she knew it, but it didn't mean she couldn't grow. get stronger, get better.] Guess I'll have time to get on your level if all we're doing here is killing these things.
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One can hope you survive that long. I'll look forward to it, if that's truly to be.
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[she was more than content to slip back into cockiness now that it looked like the first wave was over. with a flick of each of her wrists, the blades retracted into the bodies of her guns. they'd gotten a small victory and she'd have to be happy with it. it was the only size of victory she could get these days, it seemed like.]
I'll take this over what I was dealing with back home. Unless I'm just going to wake up and be back there.
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A shame, that. I had hoped we'd get to know one another a little better before you died.
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You know, coming out of your mouth, that almost sounds like a threat.
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It's just an unfortunate truth that I'll be outliving you, one way or another. Even if I were to succumb here, I would simply rise again, unable to cross into the realm of the dead as one of their own.
I'm immortal, you see.
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You're still a lot nicer than the last one I met.
[she can't prove it about Salem, of course. but she's. it's kind of the only thing that makes sense. she's been at this for how long? working in the shadows for how long? one way or another she's insanely powerful and it would only make sense if she's immortal on top of all of that.]
A lot easier to work with, at least.
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But make no mistake, I do not see this as a gift.
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It doesn't sound like one. [she didn't want to make this serious, but it had kind of come to that point anyway, hadn't it.] Maybe you'll get lucky and find something here that can take care of it for you.
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[ever. she's feeling genuine right now and she kind of hates it, but. adrenaline is starting to wear off and with it are some of her filters. at least until the next wave. she scratches behind her ear.]
Sounds like a pretty crappy story.
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Do you still wish to be as strong as I am?
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I'm not wasting my time wishing for something impossible. I just want to make it out of this alive.
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