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TEST DRIVE #6
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! |
Cole | Dragon Age: Inquisition | Seelie
[So many minds!
The Feast Hall was full of noise, but it was beautiful noise like laughter, and there was fear in there, too, and anger, lost, let me go back, I don't want to fight, but the newness of it all enthralled, and halfway-terrified like one might be if they don't know whether a new creature is dangerous; forced a temporary retreat on top of the fresh lack of balance.
There is no Veil here. Just a wall. No Fade; can any of this really be magic? This is definitely not the Fade; it feels rooted and real yet fast, and freer, with light shining into new shapes yet with something holding close underneath - and in everyone that sticks. Lights lit in grand places that shouldn't be disturbed. That's what Seelie is, or - some of what Seelie is, too much, too closed, hard to hear...
And then people start to leave for the chambers. Or elsewhere. Sources of sounds moving. Spreading. Some stay, and... he ventures on in. Not enough out for the music to have stopped, or all the food to be eaten, and still clanging - with apprehension and with differentness. Where to start...?
He tries catching ahold of one set of sounds, focusing, eyes half-closing - staying put, all the while; he doesn't think he's letting them see him - and... a starting point. Good... Nods - makes note of where it is, strides over to the table, peeks at the sweets and trying to catch after-thoughts - which he can't find, no Fade to put them in, and so he... guesses. Something will help more than nothing will.
Makes a selection and puts a couple of cakes in a napkin, and holds it stiffly on the way away from the table. Takes them to someone who might notice on seeing them that they might've been slightly hungry. With a hushed, encouraging voice and a frozen look - ]
-- I couldn't tell if these ones were better than the others. But when your stomach is calm, your mind will be calmer, too; it will be easier to hear yourself think.
B. The Station.
[A boy appears out of nowhere.
So it seems, at least - you hadn't seen someone coming from your front a moment ago, but he's there, now, terribly scruffy with a hat you'd put on a scarecrow sooner than a person, and within sufficient time to make note of any of this, he's come to a full stop in front of you, brim of that big floppy hat tilting up to show his face, holding out... aye, that appears to be a megaphone.
And speaking in a fast yet somber half-whisper.]
A woman in Caer Glaem said that she needs this very much. I can't make it work in Caer Glaem. -- Or anywhere that isn't here.
I need to know how to make it work...
C. WILDCARD.
[Fire at will!
And note for the non-canon-familiar: Cole compulsively reads minds. If you'd rather he not, say the word!]
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Shrugs, as she looks up at him. She's small and her habitual slouch does nothing but make that worse, but Shijima's posture is something she'll likely never fix. ]
You can't. Outside of here. Technology things don't work outside the Station. I don't know why, so don't bother asking.
[ The explanation is, she gathers, something magical. Like so many things in Drabwurld. Cole's odd manner doesn't bother her - only the way he appeared. As an immortal cat who wears human shape only to speak and act as she cannot as a cat, her interest in adherence to human manners or bearing is minimal at best. ]
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Other than the suspicion and surprise. Did he need to make himself visible? Or is this because she's not really one thing, either?
And his eyes wander - thought - it's different here, and it's different here. Fair enough. Something in it falls asleep outside of here and there's no way to keep it awake - and he couldn't ask her how, it's true, she doesn't know...]
-- She needs it at Caer Glaem. -- Perhaps if - something else, would be the same... This is just like what she needed...
[Sounded the same, too! He tested it and everything - stole his voice, made it bigger; it scared off some birds, but no other harm done that he's aware of, and anyone else who would've heard him, any people who would've heard him, wouldn't have remembered anything beyond that they'd heard something, most likely... Then again, he hadn't asked the woman back at the castle why it had to be this; he hadn't talked to her at all. Maybe if he goes back and looks closer, there'll be an alternative...?]
-- I'll have to go back.
[Eyes re-focused.]
I'm sorry; you seemed like a person until I got close... I'm still not really real enough for cats.
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A few people have, after her remarks about other forms and insinuations, guessed she is an animal by nature. A few more have managed to guess "cat". But never so soon, and never without prompting. So Shijima cants her head to the side, focusing even further on Cole. It's interesting but not inherently dangerous; few things register as dangerous to a girl who can't (but wants to) die. Nothing kills her, but if it did, what would be the harm? So there's no need to fuss about dangerous or not.
Just interesting and boring. She prefers interesting, by and large. ]
What are you? You smell different. [ Not bad. Different. Something fuzzy in her head. ] About that - [ the megaphone ] Just ask for one that doesn't use electronics. Or ask one of the mages floating around for a spell to do the same thing.
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[His expression's changing minimally, but he's interested right back, if in a current of winding air at the moment, as it were - and that something-different... Could it perhaps be the Fade she smells...?
And he doesn't mind, but she wouldn't care if she did, he takes it; animals usually "are", not that met any that had an element of Fade to them while being real in the way that animals are - the changing, that is. An element of magic, wherever and whyever the magic dwells here, with the mages...
On that note - in the tone of lightly catching the question asked, bending it with hands naturally in the action of turning it back, soft emphasis on the article of address and the last word - ]
Are you a mage?
I haven't seen any of the mages here float yet... [And that last bit was rather just a thought out loud. "For" him.]
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[ She's curious about what gave her away to him, but understands that the senses of something she's unfamiliar with are probably different. Granted, Shijima knows she wasn't playing at being human well or anything, but - clearly it's something Other. He's said as much.
She shakes her head, once, at the question. ]
No. I have skills from the world of Nabari, but those aren't magic. Ninja arts. It's different. [ It probably seems like magic. But Shijima doesn't bother to explain further. ] You could ask on the lockets. See if anyone knows how to do it. That's what people do when they have problems here, often.
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cole the precious child (a!)
She's so busy with everything that's happening that she almost trips over the boy, even with his quiet voice alerting her to the fact that he was very much there. Her eyes flicker for a moment before a hand goes to press against her stomach; she'd barely noticed that she hadn't really eaten much today, far too busy dancing between people and apparating home and back. Expression softening, she reaches out to take one of the cakes, pausing before she eats. ]
Thank you. Are you new? I don't think we've met.
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When she almost trips over him but doesn't, he stops - the important thing is that she doesn't; it means that she has indeed noticed! Bit of hope when she pats her stomach and... She takes them! Good...
He waits for her to finish - savor any settling secondhand, lets it sink in if it was a move that mattered, on her end... And in response to that question?
He isn't, strictly speaking! But neither is here, and so, the best answer is...]
Being here is new to me.
You don't know me. My name is Cole.
[And she is... Hermione Granger. A mage. Doesn't give voice to that, though; keep it that much more quiet.]
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Still, she brightens and holds out her hand, smiling. ]
It's nice to meet you, Cole, and welcome. My name is Hermione Granger.
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[(Viktor. Expanse of air, clever enough to catch the little bird, but when not seeking, strong and tall like a stone wall carved and climbing itself -- nothing like the boys who I love instead of like; those boys are my friends...)
It's a name that's been played with in the past, if unintentionally; he weaves through it in a quick-ish mutter and then:]
Hermione. ...Thank you. -- It's nice to meet you, too.
[Whether or not the being-acquainted will stick, in her memory. And... he almost didn't notice the hand! Head turns down, and, this is what people do - holds his own out tentatively just a moment or two before taking hers, lightly shakes his forearm.
Watches himself doing it just to be sure he is doing it and then back up to her face. Manages to let a bit of extra brightness out, too!]
-- And it was nice for many of the others to meet you. It isn't easy -- soothing stresses when they speak so loudly from so many sources, helping people know enough to right and ready them not to fly instead of falling -- even when you can tell, but, [His head tips to bob.] - you're clever, and you've been working hard.
A lot of people feel clearer, less confused, now, than when they first came into the court. -- It's still hard, but - easier because you made it...
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Their hands shake and she keeps smiling. ]
You're welcome, really. I, um.
[ There's a flush on her face, now, at the idea that she really has been making things easier. She isn't sure how he knows more than it being some kind of magic and she steps closer, careful, tilting her head and letting her eyes flicker over his face. ]
Is there anything I can help you with? I'm not sure how you know, but I - I have been helping, or trying to. If I can make things a bit less confusing...
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A! hope this is okay!
Once she's close enough, she calls out to him: ]
Cole?
[ She doesn't want to lose him in the crowd of people again. ]
/Very/ okay!
Warmth, relief, fear, familiarity - a friend; it's...]
Inquisitor?
[He says that before he even turns, and he isn't in a hurry to, because he's sure. And once he does and sees her standing there he's surer; she looks like that, sounds like that - arguably clearer without the glow and hum of the Fade reaching down (but the less made of that in the instant, the better; should he be sad, scared, fretful, for now it is her, here)!]
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Cole, I'm so glad to see you.
[ Though this means that he, too, has been conscripted. The thought leaves her disturbed, truthfully. ]
Are you all right? Are any of the others with you?
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Can't feel the Fade; I'm frightened, but feel fine in form -- nothing's hurting, and there are people here to help. [Shakes his head for her, for the second question.] I haven't seen anyone who I know yet.
I hope that it isn't only us... People will be very worried, if they don't know where you are...
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[ Nothing's hurting. Cole is safe. There is further relief there, palpable, and she is both grateful and concerned that they may be the only ones who have been brought into this war. She frowns again, reaching out to touch his arm, to reassure herself and him. ]
Cassandra and Leliana have well enough in hand. We'll make this work somehow.
[ Somehow. Cole is right; they will want to know, they will be worried. ]
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B
Hey, kid.
[ He reaches out to take the megaphone from him, holding it almost delicately between his thumb and forefinger. Weird. ]
What is this thing?
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[Even if the name isn't one, the tone is warm and greeting. The Iron Bull was picked by the Unseelie; he can see why they'd want him, but that explains why he hadn't seen him before now - in fact, many of the Unseelie do feel like many of theirs... he's got to listen more closely!
With his hands empty, he folds his arms, feeling up at his sleeve, pressing at points...]
I don't know what it is... -- I only know, it's -- what she wants. And that it takes a piece of your voice, your words, makes them louder. Like a war horn, except -- the command is words, and the meaning is in the words, instead of only the sound.
[Fringed with distant amusement, on the woman's behalf.]
There are many things she thinks she wants to use it for -- a-and you can't choose and then change with a war horn, call a command clearly when it could mean the opposite. But she will use it only once for a command, and other times for games, until her friends tell her to put it away...
[And then when the joke's refreshed, she will take it up again and use it to issue a new command.]
B!
She adjusts her clothes to occupy her hands and give her a moment's pause, and then fixes Cole - no, not "Cole," not some harmless boy who natters on and means well - the demon, with a stern glare. She musn't forget herself, no matter where she is. The Game is lost for less.]
A weapon?
[What else should he want fixed?]
...is for BONJOUR, MADAME.
No.
[And for the thought behind that question:]
It isn't for me, Vivienne. [No mind for context/juxtaposition, might lead the gentle matter-of-factness in an effort to assure to - sort of bend, but it skips him entirely; keep going!] It isn't for hurting people. Though it can scare them, like it scared the birds, except not scaring - just startling. [It's benign and wanted for a benign purpose!]
Like now.
[Except with noise, and not with a demon chucking himself into the vicinity of a still-suspicious enchanter.]
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Draco could easily force his way through the wide open balcony doors of the ballroom if he really wanted to and take his pick of what was laid out on the banquet table, but he won't. Too messy, too loud, things he wouldn't worry about were he elsewhere, with fewer people, but not here. He barely had time to get used to being around people again with Bowen and his little army of farmers, but this? It's too much, too soon, and the amount of local lords and ladies who hold no fear of him is both exciting and absolutely terrifying.
And now there's this boy, offering him cake.
That, at least, gets the old lizard to focus on something besides how crowded and loud it is, even to crack a smile. ]
A thoughtful idea, but I dare say they may not have enough cake in the entire castle to calm a stomach like mine.
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He faces, waits a few moments holding the cakes out... And then nods, or lets his head drop and rest.]
No. [That is intended as agreement. Articulated:] ...Dragons don't normally fill up on cake.
[True even if by technicality. He doubts he's ever come across a dragon who's even tasted it - and even if one had, dragons get very hungry, many have their drakes and dragonlings to feed; a cow is bigger than a cake, and it agitates by moving. (There have been cow-sized cakes before. A wedding in Orlais. Had twelve such cakes - was the twelfth bigger? - basically an imprint of a recollection. Still can't hear into the Fade.)
And Draco's smile stands out more than enough for Cole to be half imitating, trying it on, when he smiles back. (Nowhere near an attempt to mimic the look of it, just the expression.
The half that's imitating also lends to this being said half to no one - an observation, airy-yet-grounded.]
I've never seen a dragon smile before, either.
[Albeit an adventurer's most likely to happen on them angry, hungry, threatened - and this one's quite hungry, too. That's even more - most dragons aren't happy when hungry, and they don't look it.]
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[ But he is right. A cow would be better than a cake, as far as a dragon would be concerned. As far as Draco would be concerned, too, although he doesn't imagine he'd be too ill if he did eat that much cake. Cole's other observation elicits something of a chuckle, close enough to the sound humans make, but deeper, rumbling. ]
Oh, you haven't, have you? [ Draco wonders at that, if he's even met enough dragons to have never seen one do one thing or another. ] It could be you just never gave one anything to smile about, then. In my experience, most people offer to plant a sword in my chest upon meeting me, not offer me sweets.
[ Which he still expects to happen, if not here, then as soon as he's left the protections of their host. It's only a matter of time until he runs out of those here who are fascinated by him and someone decides to challenge him, and then what? Kill a few and leave their tooth-dented armor around some lair as a warning all over again? ]
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[It's not guilty but it is a little wistful; the Inquisition's killed dragons, ones who made prey out of people, even pets - or put a place of kill or be killed. It was safer without them, no more got eaten including the Inquisition, and they weren't like this one, but if. Apparently a dragon's face can make a smile - opposite of the sorts of dogs that look like they're smiling when they're actually fretting.
And, apparently, a dragon can laugh, too - does, meanwhile, sound how one could imagine a dragon would laugh...
But - offer? Swords - slaying - ]
They don't offer... They challenge. Most creatures don't want to be slain. You tried to tell them not to try.
[Sense of waging war, then - Draco's as close to safe as a dragon can be, so it sounds in there... War.
War. Wait. Expectation, forced to fight... Picking up with the running-through out of a mutter.]
I wouldn't worry about that here -- forced to fight, though you will... probably win if it's one against one. As -- long as it's on this side.
People are used to dragons being monsters -- but that matters less here.
[Or so he's gathering; there are people here who doubt it's real when it's realer than magic normally is, and even for himself, the magic is realer than it's supposed to be.]
Better a chance than to challenge someone who doesn't wish to hurt people. Who can be your friend. You warn them -- you would rather avoid it.
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As soon as that moment passes, he lets out a soft puff of air, warm, but thankfully lacking fire. His smile lessens. ]
One against one, there is little doubt. [ But if there is an ongoing war here, he may have more to worry about than single knights looking for glory. ] We shall see, I suppose, who heeds the warnings. Here, perhaps many will, but there's always that one sword-slinging idiot who'll ruin it. You think you find a nice quiet valley and then in they come, on some poor frightened horse, wearing armor that's more for looks than of use.
Never fails.
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