𝔄 𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱'𝔰 𝔇𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𑁍 [WINTER TDM]

[gorelord]

Welcome to the Test Drive!

The TDM is welcome to current players and anyone who wants to play in the setting and is encouraged to be used by prospective players. If you are interested in joining the game, you will need to obtain invite from the mod or through an existing member.

For information on the game premise, setting etc, please utilize the navigation pages below. Questions specific to the TDM prompts or the setting can go to the comment thread. Anything else relating to game mechanics can go in the FAQ.

Events in this TDM are considered game canon and occurs immediately after the Chapter II eclipse event between chapters II and III. Any threads in TDM are considered canon as long as both parties agree.

Please make sure to identify in your top levels as either current or new player/characters.

GAME PAGES

premise
setting
faq
rules
glossary

i.
rise:
A Dream's Beginning

(cw:nsfwl; ritual sex, mood altering substances )

It begins with a nightmare, the details of which have slipped through your fingers. Only the curling echo of its dread lingers in your chest. Something has snapped you out of a catatonic state: a gust of icy wind whistling through the crack of a window, the soft beating of drums under the melody of strings, the cold kiss of fat snowflakes catching on your eyelashes, the smell of spiced wine and evergreen.

A few things become clear: You are not where you were, and you are not alone.

Feast for Saints

Tonight is a night of celebration for the Lonely Fortress. The horrors have been set aside, replaced with the warm mirth and grace of being alive. Whether this is your first night in the Crucible or your fortieth, all are welcome to partake in this renewing fete under the silver light of a full buttery moon. Snow dances like flower petals in a lazy array, leaving a shallow blanket of white. The fire roars in the hearth of the Great Hall, spreading its warmth throughout its adjacent parlors. Despite murmurings of a recent catastrophic eclipse cleaving the castle twain, its halls and buildings show no sign of decay. The Egregore has been cleansed, balance has been restored. Spirits are high, people are at ease.

If you choose to partake, there are a few select locations where people have gathered to celebrate:

𑁍The Great Hall is open for feasting and dancing. The fortress stores have provided a wintertime feast of roasted meats & vegetables, pies, fresh and aged cheeses, dried fruits, candied nuts, and seeded cakes. The hall smells of spiced honey wine and mulled cider, both packed with a warm and buzzing inebriation that creeps on unexpectedly. A makeshift band of strings and drums plays lively music for people to dance to.

𑁍The Velvet Parlor is a smaller hall branched off of the main festivities for those looking for softer and more intimate comforts under the candlelight. Tonight, its guests pay tribute to celebrate the passion of life and to beckon the sun to rise in a ritualistic tangling of bodies. Here is the place to become a true eater of sin. All furniture has been nudged to line the walls, making way for a sea of cushions and pillows for celebrants to laze upon as they imbibe in strong, distilled spirits, as the air above them swirls with a sweet, toasty incense imbuing a mellow calm and stirs carnal appetites. A masked man plucks away a sultry tune on his lute in a corner as the night gradually gives way to passionate bodies tangled among the pillows.

𑁍The Courtyard brings a breath of fresh, brisk air as snow falls playfully overhead. Large braziers line the yard offer meager warmth from their roaring fires as exiles partake in snow fights and release wishing lanterns bearing your inner most desires into the sky. Steam rolls off the yard's central fountain, which has been fitted to disperse heated water to provide a makeshift heated pool, a perfect place to thaw chilly hands or feet (or just go all in if ye be bold enough.)

A Colder Path

If instead you choose to abstain, it becomes apparent every dream has its limits.

The castle beyond the festivities is cold, dim, and abandoned. Behind every door, a drab and empty room (if the handle isn't locked or broken). The keep's gates are closed, the sunken village beyond a frozen wasteland. The further one strays from the warmth and merriment, the colder and darker it becomes.

Isolation breeds madness, too much time spent away from others may lead to paranoia. Figures shift in the dark, a breath tickles the nape of your neck. You may see familiar faces, hear familiar voices, beckoning you to stray further from your path towards uncertain doom: a crooked nail sticking out of the floorboards, a hurried shove off the top of the stairs, a door that opens over the edge of a rocky cliff.

As determined as you may be, the only way out of this dream is through.

ii.
revel:
Trials of Merciful Holly

(cw:potential for dubcon/noncon, mood-altering.)

As the midwinter evening persists, a visitor long awaited comes knocking at the Great Hall's doors. A tall man emerges with a body molded out of braided wood, bearing thorn-tarnished armor and a tattered crimson cloak. With every step forward, thorned vines that stitch across the walls and floors, blooming with plum purple leaves and small budding flowers.

"The Briar Lord," one exile gasps. "Gregor's returned," another praises tearfully. With a bow, he treats the celebrants of the Lonely Fortress with the innocence of a festive game.

"O' eaters of sin, indulge me in this friendly Midwinter game. Ye have survived a harrowing and for that ye shall be rewarded for purging of thy wickedness. I ask thee this final offering to purge this winter and beget a new spring. Give me thy blood and affection with honor and I shall see this cold vanquished. What I am given, I will return what was given me. Then, in trust and friendship, we shall part."

Bats and Lashes

The Lord's game is a simple marital task held out in the frost covered garden: a duel of branches. Each competitor will be given handful of briar as their weapon. The aim of the game is to whip each other until the thorns of the briar's branches draw blood. The first to draw blood from the opponent is the victor and the blood price paid.

Yet, not all these branches are created equal. A fortunate competitor may be given a Bewitching Branch. Those whipped by this branch will become utterly obsessed and infatuated to whom they've been struck by for a short period of time after, beholden to their branch master until the sting of thorns wane.

Tithe of the Mistle

If you choose not to partake in the Lord's game, the Lord warns that his winter's briar will collect a tithing of affection. The vines that bloomed with his arrival grow rampant behind seeing eyes. Buds turn into flowers, petals shed as they mature into plump white mistle berries that release the sweetest scent to draw you in.

Either you have accidentally stumbled upon the mistle, or it has decidedly grown itself above you without your noticing, but you become bewitched by its scent. As the tricksy bramble coils around your ankles, giving the gentlest of biting from its thorns, it becomes clear that you will be consumed if you do not pay the mistle its tithing. For some, it only takes a kiss, for others, the mistle will demand more. Give it something meaningful. Give it something real, and you will be released.

iii.
respite:
Midwinter Mourning

All good dreams must come to an end. The following morning paints a different picture of the Lonely Fortress witnessed in the night's collective dreaming. The Crucible sits under a thick blanket of snow, the waters surrounding the keep have frozen solid. None of the warmth of the night remains; it feels as though the world has died. The whole of the Crucible feels cold, quiet, abandoned.

Every hearth has burned out, every brazier snuffed under the snow, every candle smothered. It's quiet, empty, dark. Daylight may have come, but a thick layer of storm clouds casts a foreboding shadow. If the desire remains to leave, it quickly becomes apparent there is nowhere else to go.

Warm Winter's Kiss

With luck, you have woken in a bed under a pile of old furs to keep some semblance of warmth with you. With even better luck, you've woken next to company to keep each other warm throughout a cruel cold morning. Without proper protection, the cold is biting against exposed skin. Joints and limbs become stiff and numb, making it difficult to move around without constant tending if one lacks gloves.

While hearths can be re-lit and heated baths can be drawn, the true comfort from freezing can only be found in the close company of other living creatures. Exiles on this cruel morning keep each other warm through sharing heated breaths and pressing bodies. Expressions of passion and compassion help the warmth to linger just a bit longer for those who cultivate it together, granting brief autonomy of movement before finding another's heat is needed again.

Breakfast is served, but it's nothing remotely glamorous to the feasting offered by the Midwinter dream: simple porridge that leaves a stale taste that coats the tongue, nuts and fruits that are half rancid, boiled wine that's been watered down to detract from how far along it's turned into vinegar. Its only promise is to fill an empty stomach until more food can be found.

Outside, the snow begins to fall again. An omen that this winter is here to stay. Welcome to the real Martyr's Crucible.

Comments

rose landry | heated rivalry. ( new character, current player )

[xsquad]

I — RISE: THE GREAT HALL.

[ rose landry appears to be doing a fantastic job of keeping it together — but it's all an act, because that's what she is: an actress. a very famous actress where she's from who, upon arrival, mistaken believed herself to have somehow blundered onto the set of a film that was in production alongside hers. she spent an embarrassing amount of time asking exiles she believed to be extras where the rest of the crew was and why she couldn't find the entrance to the studio backlot. she's still not fully convinced this isn't a movie set, but she's beginning to worry.

either these extras are doing a damned good job of staying in character or rose has finally fulfilled the prophecy foretold by her filmography: she's been kidnapped. ]

This had better be some sort of fucked up dream, [ she grumbles to herself, pushing the food on her plate around with an ornate fork with zero intention of actually eating any of it. ] That is the last time I let Miles talk me into drinking Kahlúa after midnight.

II — REVEL: TITHE OF THE MISTLE.

[ the thorny vines curling around her legs, keeping her rooted in place is rose's breaking point. she's managed to make it through most of the day without freaking out, but this— this is too much and rose screams, twisting about and reaching for something, anything that she can grab onto to pull herself free of the sinister plant's grasp.

she grips the arm of the (un?)lucky person who had the (mis?)fortune of passing by tight, refusing to let go. ] Help me. Please.

III — RESPITE: WARM WINTER'S KISS.

[ free from the nightmare, rose awakens in a cold, unfamiliar room that her groggy mind falsely believes is an airbnb close to set that the production team rented out for the cast and crew. why they hadn't bothered to turn on the heat or throw some wood in the fireplace is beyond her, and rose rolls over to snuggle further into the covers — and in to the side of the warm body of the person sharing the bed with her.

that gets her to wake up the rest of the way as she sits upright, staring down at her bedmate. ]

What the hell do you think you're doing?

IV — NOTES & WILDCARD.

hit me up via pm or @ vivir if you want anything specific! good with both [ brackets ] and prose, happy to follow your tagging preference lead ❤

II — REVEL unlucky misfortune has arrived

[mountreal]

[ Shane, anxious and hyper-vigilant as ever, has managed to stay out of the grasp of the creepy plants - because why would you get close enough to get caught? - but her scream gets an immediate response from him. He hadn't known she was here until that exact moment but hell, he knows that scream from her movies. He could recognize it anywhere.

In the future he'll make a joke about another kidnapping but Shane acts fast, sprinting over to her and sliding to a stop on his knees, more gracefully than even he is expecting. ]

Rose!? [ He gives her an astonished look that's a severely abbreviated acknowledgement of 'holy shit, we're both here!' but then he gestures immediately to the vines snaking up her legs. ] Oh my god, Rose, what--? Hang on, hold still!

[ He hesitates another second or two too long, then reaches out and tries to pull the plants off of her, working slower than the vines are moving. ]

[xsquad]

Oh my god, Shane? Shane!

[ later, she will absolutely laugh along with him about being kidnapped and make some quip about how he's got to stop watching those horrible films she wants to erase from her IMDB credits page — but right now, she's trying really hard not to burst into tears at the sight of a friendly face. it's a relief not to be alone, as much as she wishes he weren't being subjected to whatever this is (nightmare? actual kidnapping where they're being forced to participate in some madman's twisted film project?) alongside her. ]

I didn't think they were real, [ she admits as he kneels at her feet to make his futile attempt at freeing her from the vines, gripping at his shoulders with both hands, needing to reassure herself that he's real and solid and not just a figment of her imagination. ] How are you even here?

[mountreal]

Hell if I know. I assume you just... woke up too?

[ It's had to concentrate on asking and then listening when he's at once trying to free her and keep from getting snagged in the plants himself. One of his wrists almost does and it's only because it yanks his arm back hard enough that it snaps that he doesn't get caught as well. Unfortunately, it means that the grip it has on Rose has a moment to tighten. ]

Forget about real. If it hurts, we've got to deal with it. Right?

[ What's the plan? Get her out of danger. Shane's not the smartest guy in the world but he's good at dealing with the problems right in front of him. He can put in the work. ]

That's it, lean on me. Maybe I can pull you away?

[xsquad]

I thought I was on set, [ she admits with a sniffle that she barely manages to conceal behind a forced laugh. ] Ridiculous, right?

[ in any other situation, rose might have succeeded in her goal to laugh at herself, but she fails in this instance. the self-deprecating jab hangs in the air between them as rose leans into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. ]

Do what you need to. I trust you.

rise.

[snakeshead]

You're in luck, [she says around a sigh, serving herself a second helping of potatoes with a silver spoon she holds a second too long to inspect. whatever she was looking for is a mystery, as the spoon is returned with the potatoes and her hand around a glass of wine.] or maybe not. I hate to spoil the mood,

[looking at rose over the lip of her glass with a sly smile. this is someone who definitely doesn't mind spoiling the mood.]

but we're dreaming. Nice of you to wake up. [a lopsided smile from across the table after a gulp of wine.] Too soon?

[xsquad]

Better a dream than a movie I never signed a contract for, [ is rose's immediate answer.

though in truth, she's still not 100% convinced this isn't some twisted arthouse film that she's been tricked into participating in. that there aren't hidden cameras everywhere and she'll soon be the featured star in some big brother style unscripted featurette. ]

Are you sure that's safe? [ the wine. the food. all of it. what if this isn't a dream or a movie, but something much more sinister? ]

[snakeshead]

[she gives rose a sympathetic look. is it possible they've signed a contract they aren't aware of already? the girl known as augustine would know not to eat the food. the girl known as sloth has decided it's too late, and if fairies had the power to mass-abduct all of them then it didn't matter if she ate or if she starved.]

No, not really. [but the uncertainty is kind of addictive, and the food is looking particularly scrumptious, especially the bread– soft, freshly baked sourdough. nothing can get better than that. the fae – the dream has her weak spots. sloth explains between bites, not one to speak with her mouth full:] If we've been captured, we don't really have a chance of fighting back right now. It's smarter to get an idea of what we're up against than going in blind.

[a beat, washing down her food with more wine. her tolerance seems a little higher than it should be.]

If you're hungry, eat. It might be all we get for a while, or until we wake up.

[if they wake up.]

[xsquad]

[ beyond being among the hollywood elite, rose landry is nothing more than an ordinary woman. she's played characters that have been kidnapped more times than she cares to admit, but nothing in those scripts have prepared her for dealing with whatever the hell this is. was it smarter to avoid possible adverse effects of eating the food provided to them and potentially starve to death or eat something so she'd have the strength to keep going later on? was she overthinking it, allowing her panic and concern to diminish whatever sort of mental respite was being provided to her in this moment?

no paparazzi. no fans. no late night talk show hosts trying to get her to talk about shane hollander. no producers calling to tell her she has to be in make up by midnight to be ready to start filming at eight o'clock sharp.

maybe this is a dream. a vacation dream. a break she hadn't realized she'd needed.

hesitantly, rose reaches for one of the roles. it's warm and when she brings it up to her face, it smells delightful and tastes just as heavenly once she takes a bite. ]

Guess we're both doomed now, [ she says, but whatever's in the air (in the food as well?) has eased some of her fears and she doesn't sound quite as apprehensive as she did moments before. ]

[snakeshead]

What, never been kidnapped by an entity before?

[another bad joke (or is it), tone kept light, but she's not blind to rose's hesitancy. it's smart of her to question the world they've found themselves in. sloth doesn't quite know how to break it to her, how to navigate the explanation of dream versus reality. the food is satiating, the feast lively with chatter, but how much time do they have, really? in her dreams, she can count down the minutes before she wakes.

here, the minutes are infinite. the fact is disconcerting.]

Do you think we'll wake up in our home world or somewhere else?

[xsquad]

I've been kidnapped plenty, [ she says with a roll of her eyes as she takes another bite of bread. realizing how that must sound, however, she hurries up and chews, swallows, and adds: ] Not for real! Only in movies. I'm an actress.

[ a pretty big name actress where she's from who no one seems to know here. that's as refreshing as it is terrifying. ]

Home world...? What, like, science fiction?

II

[babysitters]

( the screaming fucks him up. makes him want to make a break for it. for a second Steve is certain there must be a chainsaw murderer cutting a swath through the party. that they've finally gotten to the normal trial part of this engagement, and not to be that guy about it, but fucking finally. waiting for it is almost worse than living it.

someone grabs at his arm. Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. but when he notices the vines, the sheer terror on the girl's face — that's enough to try and do something, even if he has no clue what is going on. the arm she grabbed shifts to grab her by the elbow. his other reaches past her to get some purchase on her jacket, so he can yank her free. well... he tries to, anyway. she sure seems just as snarled as she started. )

What the hell? ( evil vines are really too Upside-Down coded for his liking. so he tries harder to haul Rose out of them, figuring he can apologize for yanking her around after they fish her out of the ill tempered ivy. ) C'mon, grab onto me.

❤

[xsquad]

[ at this point, rose doesn't care about being manhandled. she just wants free of whatever the hell this is, reminded once again of why she doesn't sign on to do horror films. she can handle the demands of crime-themed plots and superhero nonsense, but horror seems far too psychologically taxing. was this her subconsciousness's way of reminding her of that or some twisted manifestation of her fear that she'd be typecast for the rest of her career because of the damned x-squad movies? or something else? reality? this couldn't be real... could it? ]

I don't know! [ she tries to kick at the fines but they've got a good grip on her, restricting her movement and biting further into her skin. she latches on to steve, nearly falling forward into his arms as her feet remain rooted in place, arms wrapping about his shoulders as she holds on for dear life. ]

This fucking dream needs to be over right now!