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

[babysitters]

( Bonnie should give herself more credit. she definitely did help. she is naked now, and that's amazing. it was a two person job, and the team persevered. go team! with the overalls gone and underwear apparently jumping ship along with them, it leaves the other half of the team free to delightedly drink every inch of her in with dark greedy eyes. his hands spread, a pleasant warm weight on her thighs.

he's not expecting the hi. but somehow, it doesn't seem out of place. in fact, Steve finds it cute as shit. it makes him smile. he definitely does note her surprise, but since it's a good surprise, he is not going to let it slow him down. plenty of boys in the 80s were weird about eating girls out, but Steve Harrington is not one of them. being a hit with girls sort of turned into his thing. when you have a thing you sort of have to live up to expectation, or it won't be a thing for long. and while dream girl doesn't know it's his thing, and it's kinda nice that his reputation does not proceed him in this shitty castle, and that present company doesn't look at him and already have some idea of him before they even spoke —

Steve has no problem making her first association with him getting some really good head. )

Hi. ( it would be rude not to say it back. and maybe he's challenging to try and talk more. because he loves it when a girl loses a train of thought because she got too horny to find the end of it. he spreads her legs wider, momentarily marveling at the warm glow off of her skin. just a moment, because then he drops his head down low enough to kiss her. and it's cute, at first, since she's cute. like kissing the back of her hand, like it's some kind of fairytale. and then it's not that, at all, because fairytales usually don't feature a girl getting eaten out, at least as far as he's aware. while Steve takes it easy on her at first, to let her shake off the inherent shyness and nerves that tend to come along with a tongue inside her — he doesn't take it easy on her for long. she tastes better than the party wine and he didn't even bother to try the food, so safe to say he's got plenty of appetite. )

[goeth]

( between the dream vibes and steve's eagerness, her nerves fall away quickly. bonnie is a quiet thing, but her hands busy themselves reaching for steve like she wants to touch him back; threading in his hair and tapping quickly when he hits a stride that makes her toes curl and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

she's got a pretty solid fantasy library in her mind, thanks to the fact that her friends usually grab all the male attention before she gets barely a look (ok look, even when bonnie looks at caroline she blacks out a little and then refuses to investigate that much farther okay it's not wholly unfounded it's just virginia).

this is... much better, astoundingly better, oh my god what has she been missing actually? it isn't long before bonnie gasps, and babbles awkwardly and sort of confusedly that whatever he's doing is good, so good. soft cries high and breathy, she comes with one hand twisting into the blankets beneath them and one twisting into his hair maybe a little painfully but she is not in charge of her body right now! he is. steve can blame himself for his predicament. )

[babysitters]

( that is the one shortcoming in installing himself between a girl's legs. Steve is a golden retriever boyfriend at heart, and that includes getting pet to a nearly excessive degree. he likes to be touched, and there's only so much touching that can go on when he's so far away. at least the fingers tight in his hair and her toes curling against his back really do it for him. makes it worth the lack of the heat of her body against his. which isn't to say he's cold; she is a wildfire under his tongue.

he throws occasional glances upwards. because half the fun in getting someone off is watching them fall apart. but the rest of it, he's mostly focused on following what her body tells him she likes. when to give more, when to slow down, what makes her shiver and her tongue go loose and lazy. blame the dreamstate; it does not feel like there is a rush. so he takes his time, one hand a firm anchor on her waist and the other on the inside of her thigh, just in case she tries to jerk them closed.

it is only after he feels a shiver-shakiness inside her thighs, that he climbs back up to lay against her, pins-and-needles sort of desperate to kiss her and feel her again. ) Hi, ( he says again, through lidded eyes and a lazy kiss. he is hard and there is truly no hiding it, but to be fair there is no attempt to, considering he's winding her closer with the intention of her knowing. )

[goeth]

( once he's in range, her little grabby hands can't seem to decide where to land. her nails aren't as long as usual right now, but they trace lightly up his back until she finds his hair again. but she doesn't stay, exploring his shoulders and back and hips before drawing back up again in a little cycle.

she means to jokingly say hi back yet again but then her mouth is occupied with his so she sort of hums it muffled against his lips on another giggle, loose and a little dizzy still. she stretches with a gasp when she feels him hard against her hip, as if she has any right to be surprised that he a) has a dick and b) it is happy to see her~

bonnie's body responds for her, arching up against steve at the same time she tries to stupidly take him in hand. there's no room for hands, here! so instead she winds her legs up around his hips and gives good wiggle as if all her problems will be immediately solved. when they don't magically fit together (this dream is great but she will have notes later thank you) she whines, petulant and impatient. )

Wanna feel you...

( clearly she's being cockblocked. obviously. it's so plain to anyone watching! )