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

1

[strollingplayer]

Lost the tune?

[The voice comes from behind and beside Thrall - and there's Balthier, sat upon some stump or log or another, legs crossed casually, easy to miss in the darkness of the night. He doesn't have anything with him, not like Thrall. Unlike him, he's just out for a hint of fresh air.]

Shame, that. Always seems to happen just as you decide to give it a go.

[Of course, Balthier doesn't sincerely think that. It's dark, but Balthier's trained for that. His eyes are good enough to make out that Thrall's carrying, well... not a lot, but enough to make him think he's not out for a stroll. His eyes flick up and down, giving Thrall a once-over - no race he's ever seen. Skin and tusks of a seeq, but the rest is closer to a hume than anything else.]

Or was the feast not to your liking? If you went for the meats, you have my sympathy, but the dessert's nothing to complain about.

i squealed a little irl, i love balthier ♥

[shamanism]

[Thrall is still getting settled in, and his senses aren't as sharp as they should be, or else he would've noticed that human in the dark. His eyes are pretty good but his shamanistic ones are better. Balthier is right in thinking Thrall isn't going for a stroll. With a cloak and a full set of black and gold armor, he's closer to marching into battle.

He grunts, shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is low and warm, contrasting sharply with his sharp, bulky sight.]

That was for my hunting companion-- who is not here, I've realized.

[Easier to explain that than 'I have a sort of telepathic bond with a giant wolf.']

I've never enjoyed being confined. The fact that imps somehow managed to take me against my will adds to that.

Glad to be of service!

[strollingplayer]

Seems we're all missing companions, of one sort or another.

[Of course, if he whistled for his, he'd wind up regretting it.

Balthier sits easy - he left his gun behind, and so he looks pretty casual, sharply dressed in a loose, roguish way. He's the leading man, after all. He could have been in the middle of battle when they'd taken him and he'd still look the same. An image is key.]

Well, the food is a sight better than the average prison. [Even the meat.]

I've always preferred dawn over dusk, as well. Leave if you like, but cooling your heels would be my advice. Spend the night wining and dining, even. You might make some friends.

[shamanism]

[Fran would sooner leave an arrow in his face, probably.

Thrall is not unaccustomed to the roguish types, but it's been a while since he saw that posture in a human. Thrall carries himself like a warrior prince, and if he's a little uptight-- well, that's just how he is. He's barely twenty-seven and leading several thousand people of different races and backgrounds and cultures, trying not to get them all killed.

He lets Balthier's advice sit in the air for a while. Thrall's always been a bit impulsive. That's why he has a whole council of advisors... who are absent. But he knows wisdom when he hears it, and it makes him take a breath, recenter himself. The elements here are strange and alien to him, and the elements within Thrall are all twisted up and uncomfortable. He just... wants to leave.

He can go anywhere. There's no rush. But there's no escaping the current situation, either.]

A feast hardly makes up for... this. I have spent my free life trying to avoid unnecessary fighting. Petty bickering on a different world is not something I wish for me or my people to be involved in.

[He lets out a breath, and seems just a couple inches shorter for it. Not that it does much. This guy is fucking tall.]

However... your counsel is welcome. Thank you, stranger.

[strollingplayer]

It's given freely. [Balthier waves the thanks away, quite literally - makes a motion like he's tossing the words over his shoulder. Ever the dramaqueen.

He leans a little further forward, though, until he's on the edge of his makeshift seat.]

Balthier, leading man, dashing rogue, friend to those in low places. [Given 'my people,' maybe Thrall doesn't quite make the cut. This one bears the mark of a lamenting leader. For a moment he's amused by the comparison, but he supposes not all of them can be fair young maidens.]

Of course, right now I've been given a new title; Shardbearer, wasn't it? Chafes at the neck, if you ask me. [Like an illfitting suit. Balthier even tugs on his collar.]

[shamanism]

[Thrall watches the gesture with some amusement. Balthier certainly is entertaining. He's charming in a way Thrall doesn't usually come face-to-face with. It's a refreshing change of pace. Whether or not he's trustworthy is something else entirely, but Thrall makes it a point not to distrust someone based on how they look or act. He is painfully aware of how hard it is to be a diplomat when you look different.]

Low places are nothing to be scared of. Everyone must start somewhere. [The dashing rogue has apparently earned something of a smile. It's an approximation of one, anyway: his lips curl around his tusks, and the edges of his eyes crinkle. It's a very human expression.]

I am Thrall. [He nods out of respect.] If only we had met under better circumstances.