TEST DRIVE #6

[fairyfoes]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping to EACHDRAIDH? Why not give the setting a test run here! OPTIONAL SCENARIOS 01. ARRIVING IN THE DRABWURLD. The Seelie and Unseelie courts welcome you with mirthful revelry and hearty food. After you have been briefed on your purpose here, you will find an endless feast and a night filled with entertainment to placate your concerns. Mingle with new arrivals, sneak down the castle halls and make sure your eyes are always on your glass; fairies and imps have no bias when it comes to tricks! 02. THE STATION. Looking for a little slice of home? The Station gives you all that and more. Take advantage of the wifi, have a cup of fairy-brewed coffee (the one they didn't spit in) or sit back and relax on the patio. You can even move your things into one of the available rooms! 03. WILDCARD. Your own scenario! Explore the Drabwurld or simply take advantage of your Locket!

Comments

01 - Seelie Court - EIKO CAROL

[moogling]

[What's this? A great and beautiful heroine is needed to save this world? Well, it's not what Eiko planned to do today, but BOOM! put it on the list! Now that she's here, she figures she doesn't have a choice, and really, saving worlds is sort of a past time now, so why not?

But first, she must find out more about this place and--OH MY GOD IS THAT A CAKE??

Investigations can wait. In the Seelie banquet hall, there is quite a spread, and she is rather peckish, so first she will fill up her belly like a good soldier before going to war.

It might be hard to see her. After all, she's only 6 years old and the top of her head pretty much is at the height of the table, but she will not be underestimated because of her looks or her age. If she wants cake, she will have it. That's how you defeat life!!

So the bitty summoner goes to the table and puts her hands on a bench, then wiggles herself on top of it. YES! First hurdle over-come. They will write songs of this one day.

Next, she gets up from her knees and stands on the bench, then leans across the table to reach the--CURESES! The cake is just out of reach! Why taunt her so, cake? WHHHYYYY! Perhaps if she uses a tool, she can reach it.

Eiko picks up a butter knife and reeeaaches... oh.. she stabbed the cake. Stab! And again. And again... COME HERE YOU TEASE!]

[ooc: Just one of a few muses I'm considering--might tag with others as well]

Re: 01 - Seelie Court - EIKO CAROL

[lyorning]

[Aerich noticed the child, young enough that he has to double-check to see if she's human or Easterner. Of course, then he notices the horn, and a hair color that isn't typically found on either, which causes him to reassess.]

[Either way, she appeared to be without a guardian, and clearly struggling with furniture sized for larger people. That and her age might forgive the mess she was making of the pastry.]

[Wordlessly, he slid the plate closer to her.]

[OOC: It's not visible from his icons, but he's like 8 feet tall.]

Fëanor | Silmarillion / Unseelie

[lightcatcher]

1. [network/video]

[A rather irritated elf comes into few when the feed starts - his hair groomed neatly yet his clothes appearing worn, grey eyes narrowed in ire, though not ire at those on the other side of the lockets.]

I cannot reach the younger of my sons, Tyelkormo, though Celegorm is the name you might rather know him by. Tell me of his fate.


2. [action]

[Fëanor's first stop after returning is the station, to pick up food and new clothing - and thus for the first time ever, one may find him in jeans and a hoodie, leading his cleg through the station's corridors. His mood has softened, though not by much, and he only pauses briefly when he sees ones whom he has spoken to before or to pick up goods.]

Action!

[sculptor_of_aman]

[Nerdanel herself has come into the Station to get more supplies for her commission. At first, she almost ignores the figure, not immediately recognizing him in those clothes at first. Almost. She stops short, staring incredulously. Her voice is little more than a choked whisper.]

Fëanáro??

Dolores Umbridge | Seelie Court

[umbridge]

It had only seemed prudent to go along with the dear, little faeries to find out who their owner was and then suitably, yet fairly, chastise them for using magic so tastelessly. She'd been sure that such a display could only have been made by a petty witch that had stolen their magic from a far more upstanding, more traditionally British family. Alas, she could not have that gentle word and instead found herself in a castle, not entirely unlike Hogwarts, but even more polluted.

What else was there to do but put on her sweetest smile, take a plate of food (likely touched by mongrels in the absence of a properly cowed house elf) and mingle.

[athousandcurses]

The last feast, Grainne had missed out of sheer exhaustion and the wish to remain in bed for a few days. This time, she was out and about, smiling at the newcomers and greeting them here and there. Soon enough her stomach let her know that it was time to eat, and she found her way to the feast table to retrieve her own plate of food.

Turning, she greeted the next new face she saw. "Well met, good lady. How do you fare this day?"

Umbridge might notice Grainne spoke with a slight accent, and other mannerisms belonging to a well bred Irish lady... which may or may not be in Grainne's favor considering she wasn't a traditional British lady.

Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard // DA2

[remainvigilant]

01
Her upper lip lifted off her teeth in a sneer; the reek, the roll and swell of magic oppressive on all sides. Some Fade-trick, she told herself, bristling in her many-spiked armour as she assessed the grand feast from the vantage before its heavy hall doors. This is some maleficar's Fade-spun trick.

Pale eyes cold and brittle as deep winter ice in her lined face, she shook her head in disgust, shouldering away from the sight past whoever stood close enough to obstruct her.

02
Wildcard!

01. sup old boss

[detoxifying]

Truthfully, this place also unsettled him. So many unanswered questions, yet he did not believe it was the Fade. No, it was likely that it was something else entirely, something far different. He remained somewhat removed from the revelries, more than content to be ignored as he tried to piece things together.

And then he saw a ghost. Or rather, a ghost passed him. His first thought was that he couldn't be seeing her, that perhaps this was yet another dream. It would hardly be the first time. Yet, somehow he suspected that might not be the case. His second thought was that she might very well be a demon. But again, that seemed to serve little purpose. A spirit? Or the Knight-Commander herself, returned to flesh through some dark magic of Corypheus.

Whatever she (it) might be, against his better judgement, he called out to her.

"Knight-Commander."

His hand remained firmly gripped on his sword, prepared for whatever might come to pass.

02 - Bethany Hawke - Dragon Age 2

[bethany_hawke]

The station may be a little slice of home to some, but to Bethany, it's like nothing she's ever seen. Not in all her travels has she seen technology like this. And according to some she's spoken to, it's not even driven by magic, but science! It's definitely a bit over-whelming. First she's thrown into a world that isn't her own, and then the world has, what almost seems to be, other worlds in it.

There are some familiarities about, like the smell of coffee or some of the foods being sold. A man turning over some skewers of chicken looks particularly good. When her stomach rumbles, she places a hand over it. Quiet down. She hasn't any money for this, and nothing to trade with.

[ooc: Circle Mage-Bethany]

[fugitivi]

Truthfully, Fenris doesn't trust that none of this is magical, but compared to everything else in this new world even if it is pretending, at least it is more palatable than the flagrant sorcery flouted everywhere else. In that, this place seems half as bad as Tevinter.

Fenris sees Bethany before he hears her (he knows well the sounds of hunger): he'd always found her preferable to certain other mages, especially after she went to the Circle and flourished there by all accounts. She was stronger, in a way - she'd never become an abomination, or turned to blood magic and called it harmless.

He approaches quietly, bare feet silent against the hard floor. "You haven't eaten?"

Inquisitor Lavellan | Dragon Age: Inquisition | court undecided

[arla]

1.
[ This is not the first time she has felt like an unwanted guest in a hall full of strangers. In fact, it is not so different from Skyhold, the court warm and lit with torches and candles, people milling about and talking both jovially and in hushed tones. It's more remarkable that there are a few, mostly her escorts, offering her food and drink and a place to sit and gather her bearings. The journey itself has been an odd one, winding from Thedas to something new altogether - this Drabwurld - and she is curious (and wary) of what it may hold.

She should be more concerned that she has wandered away from her duty. But some part of her revels in the unknown, in the knowledge she can find here, and for the change of pace. No one is calling her 'Herald'. No one is calling her 'Inquisitor'. Here, she is just another stranger, just another face in the crowd.

So there is food to be had and places to explore, and some people might find the elf wandering to be a curious sight, but she is not so shy as to keep herself from asking a few people: ]

Do you know where the rulers of this court are? I would speak with them. [ But she recognizes the look in their eye and frowns. ] That's...not going to be possible, is it?


3.
[ Seelie - The Great Greenwood
It has taken her many days to make her way to the Greenwood, gifted with a beautiful mount to guide her there. Even upon entering the wood, she can feel a stark difference; the trees seem to whisper and there is a sense of home that she has not felt since she had been back with her clan many months ago. It makes her want to stay and cast the duty of her court behind-- But she clings to that part of herself, the want to help others, and she knows she will return eventually. Still, there are things to see, knowledge to gather... Perhaps she will learn things here that will help when she eventually returns to Thedas.

As she begins to make camp, something rustles nearby, though it's there for a moment and gone the next. Nasrin stops and grips her staff, eventually turning, the mark on her hand sparking angrily with green.

She hurls a fireball at the sound. ]


[ Unseelie
She has been asking everyone for some support in going out into the field, as she has glimpsed word of Loch Noa and its surrounding forest and hopes that perhaps that might give her something to go on, perhaps a place to find artifacts to help the Unseelie...or perhaps to help herself in the growing conflict in Thedas. Lavellan has asked around enough, prodded people, attempted to cajole. But she goes to the stables anyway to find a mount, clear in her intent to ride and find for herself what lies beyond the circle of the castle.

Want to join? ]


[ ooc: keeping spoilers out unless someone indicates it's okay. undecided with the court so I put up a few prompts just in case!! ]

1!!! Tumnus | Seelie

[faun_tumnus]

[Tumnus glances sidelong as the unfamiliar woman steps up, ears flicking forward. He opens his mouth to respond, his expression betraying mug of what he has gleaned over the past few hours of mingling and listening to the other members of the Court.

He grimaces, lifting a hand to scratch at the base of his horn.]

I h-have heard that they hold audience once a m-month... but no, they are not here.

jack benjamin | kings | unseelie

[benumbing]

[His father used to read by his sister's hospital bed, stories about princesses in ivory towers rescued by knights in shining armor. He never talked about the rescue of princes, that it might be at the hands of some farm boy, or something as equally undignified as being kidnapped and hauled about in a sack.

Jack refuses to think of it as a rescue. Rescue means debt, and debt only means betrayal once it's been paid. He casually wonders if it wouldn't have been better to just die, but now that he looks back, something seems determined to keep him alive.

It's not God. Maybe it's this.

Feasts and mingling, Jack knows how this works. He comes down the steps, pulling one hand from his pocket to claim a goblet and sample the blood red wine inside of it. Jack stops shoulder to shoulder with someone, eyes scanning the revelry in the room.]

At least the alcohol is palatable. I was worried that we might be forced to snort pixie dust.

[wipedclean]

[He's not sure why he came back to the feast, except Steve mentioned it might be a good opportunity to meet people and make friends and while Steve never gives orders, he usually takes Steve's suggestions as such anyway. Because Steve usually knows what's best.

...well. When it comes to him, anyway. Jury's still out on Steve knowing what's best for Steve.

Regardless, someone stops next to him and speaks, and he's startled to find the voice sounds... familiar.

He looks down and




holy fuck

what

is happening]

Who the fuck are you?

clarke griffin ( the 100 ) | seelie

[omnes]

( i. | ARRIVAL AT SEELIE )

[ at first, it doesn't seem all that different from the ground — there's plenty greenery and everything looks somewhat old. if that is where the similarities end, well, clarke is familiar with exactly two different types of environment, the technology of the ark, and the complete lack of technology on the ground.

this is a lot more like the ground than it is like the ark.

there's people dancing, though, music and food and wine being offered to her, there's a castle looming above that doesn't look like it has withstood a nuclear war and then sixty years of radiation afterwards. it's a little like clarke imagines grounder feasts might be like, and that thought makes her wonder if they'll ever have the opportunity to know for sure, if the truce with the grounders means that this kind of thing might be in their future.

she hopes that it is. (the truce came at too high a cost — but she's not thinking about that, she's not thinking about finn, she's not, she's not.)

at first, clarke skirts along the edges of the feast, observing rather than partaking. she doesn't eat or drink anything, too suspicious of anything good and free after mount weather.

eventually, though, she'll stop to ask someone — ] What are you celebrating?

( ii. | THE STATION / NETWORK )

[ clarke gets her bearings eventually, figures out that there's a place called the station and a means to communicate openly with others and, well.

if there's any chance at all she can reach the others, or her mother — she has to take it. so she's making use of what the station has to offer, sitting in a corner of the room, not approachable only because she's too focused on what she's writing. ]

It's Clarke. If any of the 100 read this, please contact me. Bellamy? Mom? Raven, if anyone can pick up this signal, it's you.

[arla]

[ Clarke isn't the only one somewhat wary and suspicious of what is being offered. She's learned from a great many invitations that someone who appears to have the best of intentions is hiding a knife at their back and an army ready to fight. But this seems...warmer, somehow, though she does not take her eyes off of the people gathered there.

Nasrin turns when Clarke speaks up, lifting both eyebrows in surprise. At length, she shrugs, gesturing out to the people there. ]

I'm not wholly certain. I think the feast is for us, though we've done nothing beyond arriving here. It's very odd.

[ She gestures to the food at the table. ]

It's not poisoned. I've sampled some of it. It won't hurt you.

[ And Clarke looks like she could use a little bit of nourishment. ]

minako arisato ❀ persona 3 (seelie)

[contrasting]

CAER GLAEM.

[She'd probably be a little more freaked out at ending up in some strange castle that was definitely not in the depths of Tartarus.

It was too easy to be convinced to come. The fairies had told her that she'd be saving a lot of people by following them, and while she felt she still had to stay behind to continue helping her friends, a gut feeling told her she had to come. The first vision, that medieval castle setting she'd only ever seen in books, makes her a bit skeptical to start, wondering if she's made a mistake, but soon enough she's a bit distracted by the large feast presented in front of her.

Despite her small stature, she easily chows down on chicken legs and desserts, munching as she looks at her surroundings. Swallowing down a large gulp of her meal, she grins towards someone besides her.]

So! What's this about a war, huh? I heard we're supposed to be pummeling some people down or something? You know, saving the world, this and that.

STATION.

[Yes! This was exactly what she needed. Entering into the main level of the Station, she plugs in her earphones before she presses play on her mp3 player. Hearing the melody of a familiar tune, her eyes brighten as a grin takes over her face and she giggles with delight.]

Aha! It works! [She shouts it louder than normal, trying to speak over the music in her ears. If someone notices her, she might show an apology with a sheepish smile and a nervous bite of her lip.

But she's far too excited to settle down, racing through the rooms with a hop in her step as she takes in the environment.]

Now this is more like it! Got the tv, cool kitchen and — oh, hey, vending machines! It's like the dorm all over again.

touches...

[scanners]

[ appearing in a weird castle wasn't exactly on rise's to do list. she's spent enough time in weird shadow worlds that she didn't think this was a "jumping into the tv" sort of thing--rather, she'd followed some fairies, which was, in retrospect, probably a pretty bad idea.

but! but. it hasn't been so bad. introducing herself to lots of people has made her feel plenty welcome and at least sort of comfortable, and when she spots a girl in a gekkoukan uniform, it catches her attention almost immediately. rise sits beside her and opens her mouth to say something but the girl cuts her off, and she watches her eat like...chie.

it makes her grin and rise settles down, smoothing out her skirt with her small hands. she was going to ask her about the food, but the question catches her off guard, and she blinks. ] --Saving the world? [ other high school students save the world??? ] Is that why we were brought here? I guess that makes sense...

Varric Tethras | Dragon Age (Unseelie)

[chestbeard]

( The Station )

All this technology might have been over Varric's head, but there was no denying he felt comfortable here. Caer Scima was too gloomy for his liking and it was hard to find any city that didn't have its roots with the Seelie or the Unseelie. There was the dwarf fortress way out west, but the last thing Varric was looking for was some new Orzammar. So the Station had suited him fine. It hadn't taken long for him to set up shop here. He didn't have his connections or influence or money like he did back in Thedas, but he could start over if he had to. Varric wasn't as young as he was when he first met Hawke, but he still had enough in him to start over for however long this farce lasted.

But for right now, he was in a cheap dive of a bar with a neon "BUDWEISER" outside, being served a tankard of cheap beer by a man who probably couldn't even read and certainly didn't come from the same world this city was from. Varric swirled the liquid in the cup, drank, and decided at last on: "Well it's better than nug piss. That's better than you get most places."

(ooc: light on DA:I spoilers please, I'm only halfway through it.)

hope this is okay! let me know if I can change anything and there'll be no spoilers, promise

[arla]

Technology was very much not one of her fortes, and Lavellan looked uncomfortable enough ordering tea from one of the cafes there. She'd made a conscious effort to attempt to use her locket and to watch someone work on...one of those devices they seemed to be using, but it was all a little too much for her. She did her best to avoid anything that might make her head spin and had contented to simply exploring, looking for a map of the area--

And she spotted a familiar enough face at - surprise, surprise - a bar nearby. Nasrin wandered over, looking at the beer in his hand. "At least the tavern back home has an excuse to have paltry pickings. You'd think a tavern might offer something better." She gave him a broad smile. "Fancy meeting you here, Varric."

Maeglin | Tolkien | court undecided

[mining_mole]

[locket/voice]

[At first, there is a small silence, and one might think that the locket has been turned on by some less than helpful imp or fairy, but then a man speaks up; the voice that of an adult, seemingly young yet drawn and tired, though steel and cold lie in it as well.]

How does one ensure to never again leave this world?

[There is no further explanation, and there is a moment more of silence before the feed ends.]


[1/action/I haven't decided on a court yet]

[A tall man is sitting in a corner, a bit away from the revelry, his back rigid and straight, hands hidden in the folds of his coat in the court's colours - he's clearly not wearing the clothes that he arrived in. His bright eyes follow everyone who passes by with a dark tension, and it is only after a long time that he finally calls out to one of them, though his features are still clouded and hardly friendly.]

Hail, stranger! Will you spare a moment to answer me a few questions?

action (seelie then why not?)

[fiercefairyheart]

[Simonelli hardly looks like the friendliest person ever himself, though it's honestly not his fault. His half fairy face has a tendency to make him look pompous and uncaring at the best of times.

But, to be perfectly honest, he is a pompous and uncaring fellow most of the time.

It's hardly possible to not stop and come over when hailed, however, especially in so polite a manner. Even if the other person is clearly some sort of sidhe creature.]

If I am able to help I will be glad to do so, sir, though I am but a newcomer here myself.

Thrall | World of Warcraft | Unseelie????

[shamanism]

[1. THE FEAST;]

[Thrall finds no joy in the feast. He has a lot on his mind, and he doesn't have time to be kidnapped and forced to fight in another war. It reeks of his time as a slave. This time, unlike his time in the ring, he's wearing distinctive black and gold armor.

He gathers his things, few as they are, and sets foot just outside the walls. It's evening, and already horrifically dark; travel probably isn't advised. But he can't breathe, not in that place, not when he is so badly needed back home.

He whistles, then remembers Snowsong didn't come with him. Oh. He needs to go and get a horse.]

[2. THE STATION;]

[Thrall's homeworld isn't exactly technologically advanced. There are radios, but they're not used outside of certain gnome and goblin adventures. This... this is beyond anything he knows. But it's a neutral place, and he admits it's a little charming that way, so he settles on the patio with a drink and some food.

Just a big green orc. Sitting in a tiny chair, with a tiny coffee cup.]

[ooc: please let me know if you have a specification for canon point since I am ... not sure myself. Leaning toward pre cata though.]

[crymoore]

[ While the Station held little interest for the sorceress, the reunion had been long overdue and look forwarded to immensely. Jaina had been one of the few unfortunate to be deposited elsewhere in the Drabwurld when the new arrivals came and only discovered through chance that Thrall had been brought here as well. So after a night at The Barrel (discussing things that shouldn't be talked about over the locket), Jaina spent most of the day traveling towards the Station with as much speed as she could get from her steed.

By time she does arrive, she's tired, cold, hungry--the works. Fortunately it doesn't take her long to locate her friend (he sticks out like a thumb no matter what) and what energy she thought had been diminished sparks back within her once more. ]

Thrall! [ Closing the distance quickly, she pauses only once she sees just how ridiculous he looks.

And then she breaks out into hearty laughter, the strain of traveling to yet another new world no longer of importance. Thrall was here. Life is as good as it can be in this foreign world. ]

Aerich (Temma) | Dragaera books | Seelie

[lyorning]

[It's perhaps possible to mistake Aerich for a local if you are new and not used to fae: he's mortal (for 'holy crap, you're how old?' definitions of mortality), but eight foot tall with slightly pointed ears and from a race that got named 'elfs from Faerie' by (other) humans. ]

Caer Glaem A:

[ Watching people, including a very dear friend, die, only to be spirited off by what you had assumed to be a hallucination as you were dying, and finding yourself in perfect health and claimed for service by a foreign king and queen was, to put it mildly, an emotional whirlwind. Hence Aerich was more focused on his wineglass and his food than the gathering, though he had noticed the natives and the other 'shard-bearers', who seemed to be mostly Easterners.]

Caer Glaem (and environs) B:

[ As it became clear that this wasn't a hallucination and he wasn't going to find his soul spirited off to the Paths of the Dead, Aerich set about to supplement his education. Which meant finding whatever books he could on the history, geography and culture (or cultures) of the Drabwurld and reading. Or taking a break from reading and doing something complicated with thread and a crochet hook. OR attempting to find where the stables are to go riding, which may require asking for directions.]

C:
[ IDK, suggest something? ]

Lieutenant Koudelka | The Vorkosigan Saga | Seelie

[trainable_lout]

01

A tall young man is seated at one of the tables. He takes large sips from a goblet of wine, hunched as if he can curl his long frame into a pocket of invisibility. Resting beside him is a sleek cane made of dark polished wood--simple, but clearly very expensive. He wears a green uniform that emphasizes the green sheen his face has taken on. He has the look of someone who has realized that coming here was a mistake.

When he gets up to refill his glass, he takes up the stick and limps to the wine cask, swaying a little in a way that has nothing to do with his handicap. If he stomps the end of his cane on your foot, blame the wine.

Locket

"Lieutenant Koudelka, Barrayaran Military Service, personal aide to the Lord Regent of Barrayar. I'm seeking work as a secretary."

He opens his mouth as if to continue, then seems to change his mind, gives a nod, and lets that be that.

HI THERE

[thole]

Remus recognizes the way that the other man is curling into himself at the feasting table. He has done so himself, many a time before. Perhaps it would not be in good taste to point out that no matter how hard he tries, unless he does have the magical ability to do so, he will not become as invisible as he would like to, so he holds the comment back on his tongue and instead approaches with a quiet smile, gesturing with his own goblet of wine to the open space beside the other man.

"Is that seat taken?" he asks, a quiet, kind smile on his face as he does. It might be noted that Remus too walks with a bit of a limp, at the moment. Even with Hermione's spells and potions, the full moon will never be a kind mistress, and with the feast falling so soon after it... He does the best he can to be as normal as he can, but he too has his demons.

Sylvanas Windrunner | Warcraft | Unseelie

[deadrising]

01: At the feast.

[ An endless feast seems rather like something people who eat would enjoy; that hasn't been something she's been willing to do in a long while, but Sylvanas Windrunner would not pass up the chance to study up on the other new arrivals.

A plate of food lies in front of her, but she hasn't touched it at all -- it's getting rather cold on the plate. Likely she should offer it to someone -- a way to strike up conversation, to get more information than the basic amount they've been given. But she can't quite bring herself to want to talk to anyone present at first glance...still, she is staring at as many people as walk by her, red eyes piercing as they take in their surroundings.

You can probably feel her gaze on you as she seems to be attempting to bore a hole in the back of your skull. If you look particularly interesting, she may even offer up a simple question to go with her staring: ]

And how long have you been here?

02: Wildcard.

[ Perhaps you've just never seen a dead elf before and want to bother her about her personal details? Or...maybe you're catching her sulking through the corridors or in the Station, not appearing any more tired or changed from the first moment she arrived.

Either way, she looks exactly like the type of person you should pester with a million questions and bother about all her intimate details. ]

01

[thedominatrix]

[Irene is fiddling with a bracelet, red nails scrabbling at the hitched clasp—furious to find that her fingers are shock-clumsy and tremble finely despite her otherwise composed attitude. She's just got the clasp righted so that it no longer pinches at her when she feels the hair at the back of her neck prickle up, turns and meets Sylvanus' gaze just in time to hear the question. She doesn't flinch from her. Just drops her hands, mildly rueful at being caught fussing, and smiles.]

If only I could tell you, [a husky, society-wry murmur] but my watch has stopped. [Sauntering over, holding out her wrist as evidence.] I'd say not over an hour. What about you?

[She doesn't know what the hell—no, no use thinking like that, she doesn't know who the hell she's talking to, with those red eyes and that greyed skin, but talking is talking. She can do this, she reminds herself. Just keep talking, hit the ground running.]

blue sargent; the raven cycle; unseelie

[louder]

( Blue is not at all sure what made the imp whisk her away. Perhaps it was the fact that she had suddenly become something more; though she still wondered what it meant. A battery. It came to her. Not Adam. Not Gansey. Not Ronan. Not Noah. All special, all different, in their own ways. All possessed of something more. Blue still searched for that, for that little thing that set her apart from the rest of the world. She hadn't found a meaning behind it yet; perhaps that's why she agreed to come here. To search somewhere outside of Henrietta. Away from leylines and dream thieves and living forests and unliving kings, away from clairvoyants and psycometrists, away from pizza line cooks and overly flirtatious hostesses. Away from the world she knew. All she had were more questions. Mirror. She was a mirror. But for what? She hoped perhaps, in this place, she could find something more.

crowns and birds
swords and things

Still, even here, she feels a divide between herself and the rest of the population. She's among such a large bunch of outsiders that she's a bit crestfallen; she isn't the only one. She never is, though. She's always had to make a point of just how different she can be. Blue finds that she grows tired of the celebratory atmosphere of the welcome feast very quickly, and that she would much rather be elsewhere, exploring the unseen, unheard, unspoken of parts of the castle. She looks for the places where others might consider themselves lost.

The staircase she follows leads her downward, ever downward, and she finds herself dragging her fingertips along the damp, dark stone walls around her as she descends. When she reaches the landing, her lips part slightly. She isn't sure what it is, exactly, that she'd been expecting to find, but it certainly wasn't what lay before her. It feels... forbidden, somehow. In the way that Cabeswater sometimes felt; like she was invading something private. A moment that didn't belong to her. This doesn't deter Blue, though; quite the opposite. She presses forward in her exploration. It is a broken, overgrown place, but it holds a sort of otherworldly beauty that reminds her so very much of the people in her life that she holds dear. It's a bit smudgy, she remarks inwardly. Like Noah. But it has an ethereal quality... Like Persephone. Broken, jagged edges of former doors and archways remind her of Calla. This place is wild and untamed, silent and tranquil, all at once.

She follows the sounds of water until she comes to a small stream, bubbling and lively, just beyond the reach of her feet. There are a number of very conveniently placed rocks nearby, and she wants to stay here for awhile. To rest. To observe. To listen for something, look for something... But she's not sure what. She thinks she'll just let it come to her. Blue plops down on one of the rocks and watches the water as it flows by. Perhaps, in a little while, she'll follow it. For now, she simply sits. She watches. She waits for something more.

[murdersquash]

No Gansey, No Chainsaw, No Adam, No Noah, No Blue. Ronan Lynch was alone, angry and lost now. He heard water ahead of him and the scuff of feet but he was too far gone into his rage to care if he ran into someone or not. Catacombs, Gansey would have loved these. Already the thought of him is a sharp pang for Ronan Lynch, each inch of this world that he covered and found neither Gansey or Chainsaw brought a weight to his shoulders that had leather straps soaked from between his teeth, the taste of gasoline burned his throat.

Ronan continued forward, there ahead is a girl on a rock, a girl with spiked hair and funky clothes. Jesus fuck, okay so it was the maggot not the person he is closest to but she was a part of it all. She was a slow seep into his circle of trust and while there will never be an admittance outloud Ronan Lynch is glad to see her.

However, he does not look it, no the mask of indifference is practiced. Though his eyes remain wild, angered and dangerous.

"Hey Maggot..." Ronan scoffed as he walked up to her, hands shoved into his pockets so he could resist the urge to worry those straps again and possibly give himself away.

"Where the hell is Gansey, Parrish or ghost boy? Your boyfriends are pissing me the fuck off." Right, sarcasm, indifference, sharp edges, he could do this. Inside, Ronan was so close to the edge it would take a fingertip to push him over.

Mary Crawley | Downton Abbey | Seelie

[thequitecontrary]

[One could never accuse Mary Crawley of being fanciful, but she had followed the fairies here. Yes, fairies. She should have realized how ridiculous the whole exercise was before she started, but by the time she was truly questioning it she had come too far to go back. Now she was here, in a castle bigger than Downton in a time long before hers. If she wasn't seeing it with her own eyes, she would have thought she had gone mad. But she feels quite sane, thank you. Minus the momentary lapse of fairy following.

She's pleased to find that this place has ladies' maids who are willing to help in any way that they can. They're not Anna, to be sure, but they'll do until she figures out exactly what's going on here and how to get back where she came from. Mary has dressed for dinner, but is dismayed that so many others seem to not have. And then there's the matter of the feast itself. While it does look delicious, the plates of food are simply piled on serving trays on one long table. She stares at it, then up and around, looking for a footman, then back at the trays. Is she supposed to serve herself?

This is a most uncivilized place.]

[ikols]

[ One man certainly has dressed for dinner, or at least he appears to have shortly after catching sight of her; and he does want to help, he's just feeling as dapper inside as he could look outside too; it makes sense to indulge. Before he approaches, his horned helm and scalemail shifts into an appropriate dinner jacket with all the ensuing, appropriate attire, and his hair is combed back in the time it takes for him to step around a pillar nearby, loitering on her peripheral vision like a twenty-something from the twenties.

It's a lot like cosplay, he thinks delightedly. ]

Rowdy, isn't it?

Tumnus | Chronicles of Narnia | Seelie :: will match brackets or prose

[faun_tumnus]

01. Seelie Feast

[Tumnus, moving cautiously through the crowd with ears perked and alert to the conversations around him, appeared one among many that had been newly brought to the Drabwurld. This, however, did little to alleviate his concern over being taken from his rightful place in the courts at Cair Paravel.

Hooves clipping softly on the stone floors of the castle, the faun grips the end of his scarf and twists it nervously.

He sidesteps a larger group and, attention forward rather than back, bumps into someone.

Practically hopping to the side, he holds up his hands as he stammers an apology.]

Oh, d-d-dear! I'm t-terribly sorry!! I w-wasn't minding my step!


02. WILDCARD!! You! A faun in the wood!! WHAT DO?!?!

[gallopingarcher]

[Himeno has been having similar problems. Her shoes dull the clip of her hooves on the floor a bit, but it's still there, and there are so many people all moving at once that she's having a terrible time, bumping into more than one person, and stepping on more than one foot.]

Oh-- Oh no. I didn't mean--! Are you hurt?

[And of course, while apologizing to someone else, she backs right into Tumnu's way. She's a sturdy thing, so him knocking into her flank doesn't hurt her any, and the apologies start up again.]

Sorry! Oh no, why are there so many... Did I step on yo--eeeek!

[A faun is a familiar sight, moreso than most of the other people here, but she's used to clothes, so on getting a look, she promptly scales right up into a scream, and mortified, claps her hands over her eyes. Her face is red as a beet, and her ears press down until they're hidden in her mess of chestnut hair.]

Why are you naked?!

bard | tolkien | seelie

[lakeman]

1 - feast

[ Most new arrivals at the feast are mingling, either by wandering around or chatting up their table dinner partners. Bard is not exactly an exception to this, except that instead of chatting about nothing in particular with people he doesn't know, he's trying to make himself useful. Mostly by answering questions to the best of his abilities (which is next to nil - he's new himself ), or staying out of the way and hoping against hope his children found their way to this world too. ]

2 - castle environs

[ At some point, Bard gets tired of being cooped up in the great hall. The three people he most wants to see are not there. Frustrated at feeling helpless (and not very helpful), he takes to wandering the castle and learning his way around. Eventually he finds one of the training areas and, after making sure it's allowed, helps himself to a greatbow and some arrows. He can be found at the range, methodically firing arrow after arrow into a target set at various intervals. ]

3 - wildcard

[ got another idea or location? put it here. ]

2

[gloinul]

[Gimli is only here to get some supplies before heading back out and he doesn't mean to stop by the training area.

But he does because the faerie he asked for directions was a lying bastard so he's there to see the famous King Bard, shooting at targets.

He can't help it. Gimli was only a lad the one time he saw Bard and he's always wanted to see him shoot. He stops to watch]

Isabela | Dragon Age | UNSEELIE

[easternseaqueen]

1) UNSEELIE FEAST

[Isabela had never been a fan of fancy parties. But, as far as such things went, this was definitely the best one she'd ever been to. No need to wear polite clothes, no ridiculously over-spiced and overpriced food. And people here who seemed plenty interesting. Naturally, she's going to get something to eat, lots to drink, tell jokes and stories and just maybe find some hot-to-trot little thing to take back to her quarters tonight. ]

2) THE STATION

[Talk about an interesting place! Ok, half the stuff here, she has no idea what it does or is for, but the opportunities for meeting and having a good time seem endless!]

3) MAIR

[This place seems just like Isabela's speed, and she makes a little niche for herself in one of the watering holes. Won't you join her for drinks, cards, or maybe even more fun?]

4) WILDCARD

[Choose your own adventures, kittens!]

2!

[neverfairy]

[Half the time, Tink doesn't even give the passers-by at the Station more than a cursory glance before going back to whatever it is she's working on at the moment. The main reason this one catches her eye is the clothing.

Pirate.

Tink's eyes widen in alarm. She's had more than enough dealings with pirates as of late, and not entirely pleasant either. She swiftly drops what she's tinkering on and takes flight, darting behind a nearby kiosk in a whirl of glittering pixie dust.]

Wrathion | Warcraft | Unseelie

[deathstiny]

FEAST;

[A black dragon is one who tends to mingle and learn a kingdom's secrets by blending in with it and using deceit to his advantage, though Wrathion is hardly a normal black dragon. A self-fashioned Prince, and a young one at that, he is perfectly content to sit and watch from a perch where he does not necessarily belong and pass a genuine smile that is just a touch too sharp to ignore.

His avatar of choice paints the picture of royalty, though its his glowing red eyes that stand out the most. In spite of them, he comes off as a warm yet powerful figure even a midst a court of equally magical beings. Clawed gauntlets tap out a rhythm against stonework, and he stays partially removed from the action to await approach. After all, it was easier to stand out when you weren't in a crowd, and it was always his belief that one learned more when they asked directly rather than playing someone else's riddle games.

That didn't mean that he was exempt from weaving his own, of course. It surely would not take long for an interesting individual to cross his path, to which he would call out:]

You look almost as lost as I am, traveler. From where do you hail?

[ooc: wildcard option accepted as well! canon point is somewhat ambiguous.]

wildcard!

[damnsel]

[ There was so much in this world to explore and understand; although more cautious than he might have been a few months past, there's still a glint of excitement in Anduin's eyes as he sets out to observe the Station firsthand. The amount of people from other worlds is truly startling -- it would take months to properly meet them all, he thinks.

But despite the technological marvel of the Station, Anduin spots a familiar figure apart from the crowd, equally as fascinating as the situation -- and significantly more dangerous, he reminds himself. But still, Wrathion has been nothing but a friend -- if a very strange, rather unsettling friend -- so he shuffles through the crowd in the street to make his way closer. ]

I'm glad to see a familiar face in the crowd, even if we're far from home.

Darth Revan | Star Wars: Knight of the Old Republic | Seelie

[revanisms]

1.

[Ever wonder how a man in a mask drinks?

These masks have straws built into them. Yeah, horrendously disappointing. Oh well, aside from being a lump of metal, it doesn't do much else other than be there for wearing permanently. Mandalorians: literally the worst.

Still, Revan only wanted a glass of water. Even dark lords need to eat and drink. And often times it was required in public so one always had to be prepared.

Unlike other dark lords, though, he wasn't brimming with the urge to mass murder. Instead, he was gifted with that trait called curiosity. Generally, he'd remove the information from someone's brain via the Force by....force. But alcohol and a friendly environment suited just as well.

The point was to find the nearest person.]

Revelries have their place but point me towards a map room or library. Too much work is left to be done for me to enjoy the festivities.

i'm sorry............................

[ribbow]

H-Huh? [ Her little heart practically bursts out of her chest at the sight of him, her head looking back and forth. Finally, once she's confirmed there's no one else nearby, she raises a feeble hand to point at her face. ]

Me?

Cullen Rutherford | Dragon Age: Inquisition | Seelie

[detoxifying]

01.

[ From one party that he desperately did not want to attend, right to another. At the very least, this time it would seem that no one was paying him all that much notice.

He takes a small plate of food, before attempting to find the most inconspicuous area that he could, observing, so that he can perhaps better understand the exact nature of the place he has found himself in.

(The fact that this doesn't even constitute the strangest position he's found himself in is rather less than comforting.)

He wonders, not for the first if it might all be a dream, some trick of the Fade that one of Corypheus' agents had concocted for them all. But no, he remembers all too well the feeling of demons in your mind, and this seemed to be something else entirely.

He frowns, as he debates whether it is truly wise to consume anything that he is given here. ]

02.

[ Of all the places in this Drabwurld, this "Station" was by far the strangest. It appeared that magic had little influence here, yet there were wonders upon wonders. ]

03.

[ If there was one thing that might help normalize this entire experience, it was practice drills.

After all, potential sparring partners were ihardly scarce here, were they not? ]

3, hope this is all right!

[arla]

[ Holing herself up in the library, while a somewhat practical use of her time, isn't going to get her anywhere when it comes to readying herself for whatever battles the Seelie monarchy wishes to get them involved in. And so it's several days after her arrival that she finally finds herself down in the practice yard, where there are several soldiers paired together to run drills, or to practice their skills in archery or magic.

And it's here that she stumbles across a familiar sight. She offers him a smile as she approaches. ]

You wouldn't mind a mage partner, would you, Commander?

tauriel | the hobbit | court undecided

[starlighted]

When she arrives in the Drabwurld, Tauriel is disoriented. It's not Mirkwood she finds herself in, nor Esgaroth, nor the outskirts of the Lonely Mountain — instead, this place is vastly different from anything she's known.

Despite the presence of others celebrating in the keep she finds herself in, the she-elf chooses to leave the grounds and wander instead, her bow and quiver slung over one shoulder.


ｄａｏｎｎａ;

The sign above the establishment reads The Sweet Sow, and Tauriel is consumed with curiosity as she makes her way into the tavern.

The place is rowdy and merry, with men and women alike drinking and shouting, and music playing from rudimentary instruments in the corner. The barkeep is apparently part pig, part man, and Tauriel stares at him in wonder before he barks at her impatiently to stop dithering and order something, because she 'can't possibly be hard of hearing with those pointy ears'.

She takes a drink, some kind of mulled wine, and sips it cautiously as she examines her surroundings with a wary eye.


ｔｈｅ ｇｒｅａｔ ｇｒｅｅｎｗｏｏｄ;

She has heard tale of a Dwarven King Under the Mountain, in the westland region of Troichean Beinn, during her travels; she has learned of a white fotress, a citadel, that she thinks may rival the great human city she has heard of called Gondor. But nothing prepares her for ending up in the lush, majestic forest south of the city of Daonna, that reminds her of her own home.

The woodland is lush and green, not completely identical to Mirkwood's dark canopy of trees - and seemingly without the presence of malicious spiders - but the similarity is strong enough that Tauriel is breathless with wonder upon entering it. She sinks down on one knee to sit below one of its ancient trees, her hand gently stroking the bark near the roots.

She will run and leap among the boughs soon enough, as she was wont to do in her Woodland Realm that she misses so greatly; for now, she will just quietly revel in this Greenwood that she's found.


ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ;

[ Run into Tauriel anywhere you may choose, within the Drabwurld! either action brackets or prose is fine. ]

♥

[orcsurfing]

Amongst the trees of Greenwood the Great there too lies a newly-formed Elven Kingdom of I Othrann-in-Heneb, under the rule of Thranduil the Elvenking and his son, Legolas as known across Drabwurld as the Wandering Elvenprince. They have gathered the scattered clans, and it is with those elves that Legolas runs now. Silent and ever graceful in the treetops, barely their steps stir the branches, so lightly they run, like great feral cats. They hunt now, for pleasure and for a feast, to hone skills as much as to release some restless energy.

It is like this that they run into a stranger. Close to the borders of the lands claimed by the elves, and protected fiercely by them as well. Thus any trespassers are treated the same even here, as it ever were in Mirkwood itself back in the dark days. Thirty bows are raised, thirty arrows nocked, and all of them pointing towards the stranger, Legolas stepping forward to deal with the matter more peacefully.

Or... at least until the stranger turns and-

"Tauriel!" Legolas exclaims eyes wide, lips parted in surprise. You have returned, he wishes to say, for the second time now too. The shock quickly gives way to joy and Legolas laughs brightly, motioning for his companions to lower their weapons. It's one of their own, after all, and definitely not an enemy. "Since when do you wander these lands?"

Princess Rosella of Daventry | King's Quest | Seelie

[daventries]

1 [ Fairies. It's always fairies, isn't it. But like a moth to a flame, here she is, having followed them out of the predicament she'd been caught in and into another world, bright and warm and inviting. The smell of food draws her down into the main court for the feast, where she swears she has stepped into a hall almost mirrored to her own. Her mouth is briefly agape, eyes wide, but then she is stepping bravely into the hall to mill about and look for signs of the King and Queen, for surely that would be the smartest thing to do(?).

You may find her around the tables, eating, requesting conversation and information as innocently (ha!) as she might dare, or you may find her later, when the revelry has died down, and she has gone looking into the gardens for a bit of air and some quiet. She may or may not be looking for an exit so she can continue to explore. Curiosity never killed anyone...except the cat, perhaps. ]


3. [ Wildcard!! ]

IDK, the Station or something, probably? Poor Unseelie Edgar...

[edgar_of_etheria]

[At first, Edgar is just minding his own business, looking to get some gardening things to grow roses when spring comes. But he immediately recognizes that golden hair, those blue eyes...]

Rosella!

[He calls out her name in delight and rushes over.]

What are you doing here? It's so good to see you!