fairynuff | TEST DRIVE #6

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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!

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[granby shrugs, splitting his attention equally between dragon and paper for the moment. it's an arrangement that works splendidly for sketching a rather tricky wing membrane, but less so for the man addressing him.] Force of habit, I suppose.

[he actually takes the time to look at the visitor now and his clothing alone is enough to alleviate some small portion of granby's worry. though not aerial corps, that uniform is still one of the most homelike things he's seen yet. granby though cannot be readily identified as belonging to his majesty's service himself. his shirt, trousers and boots are all nondescript and he jettisoned his fourth best coat at the first opportunity.]

I haven't known one yet who has cared to see how I taste and doubt this one will be interested.

(ooc: i love you for giving me this thread)

[ his expression crinkles. not quite a smile. not quite a frown. there's a wicked scar upon his cheek that makes him appear as though he sports a permanent sneer. whatever else he is, his rifle isn't with him. but a heavy cavalry sword sits high on slings at his hip. he stands a few feet off -- polite, but nosy. ]

You're so sure? [ doubt infects his voice. ] Sounds like madness to me.

Most would say there's more than a bit of madness inherent in being an aviator. It would be foolish to take up caution now.

[granby might not see much use for laurence's brand of gentlemanly civility and noblesse oblige, but inbetween his mother and the covert he did learn some manners. he slips the pencil inside the sketchbook, standing and smiling, honestly friendly.] John Granby, captain of Iskierka.

[ he sure as bloody hell doesn't know what a damned aviator is -- but he accepts the word, files it away, and tries not to make it look like he's too thrown by it. such hard-faced ignorance was bred in the ranks. here stands a man who certainly isn't a proper officer by many stretches of many definitions.

and who the christ knows what an iskierka is except it sounds pompous and foreign enough to be the name of a ship. oh, shite. if he's tumbled into a navy man-- ]

Richard Sharpe. Major in the South Essex. [ but he gives the title as though it means nothing. for the most part, people in the drabwurld have no notion of his army or even his nation. he copes. ] Is the Iskierka here?

[ oh, and he doesn't even manage to mangle the name. bonus. ]

Not that I have seen, so likely not. If she was here she would be doing her best to be seen by every man, woman and child in this damned place. [there are equal parts worry, consternation and pride present in his voice. it's more the attitude of a parent for a child than a captain for any type of sailing vessel. he is aware that sharpe likely thinks she is a ship and that he is in the navy (he might pay good money to tell laurence that and see his reaction), but now that he has spoke of her in such a manner the other man will surely draw the right conclusions now.

after all, everyone knows of the aerial corps, even if they don't know of the misadventures of the corp's sole fire-breather.]

[ alas and alack, he simply isn't that clever. and perhaps too inclined to see navy captains as soppish sorts always soft upon their ships. joel chase is a good man -- one of the best, sharpe believes, but even he'd been a little too sentimental about the pucelle. his derision is hypocritical of course! where the sailors worshipped their boats, a rifleman honoured his baker pattern rifle. ]

She's a pretty one then, is she? [ he nearly yawns. best to indulge the man his pride. ]

[granby can tell when he's being humored, lord knows he did it enough to officers he disliked when he was a midwingman and a lieutenant. the thing is, he's happy enough just to be speaking with someone from home that he is willing to let it slide for the moment.] In her own way. Of course, to hear her tell it she might be Venus herself.

[He gestures helpfully towards the sleeping dragon at the end of the hall as a comparison.] She's a Kazilik. Much larger than that one there, though the wingspan may be comparable.

Hold up.

[ he raised a rough hand. officer, doubtless. but he was clearly one of those fighting officers. the bullet-holes peppering his green jacket attested to that well enough. ] You're talking 'bout one of those?

[ don't mind the mild horror in his voice. ]

Of course. What else did you think I was talking about?

[granby is used to reactions like that from soldiers, especially those like Sharpe who clearly have never had any interactions with aviators and dragons beyond maybe seeing them overhead during engagements.]

A bloody ship.

[ duh. he backs up a step -- wondering whether perhaps some mistake had been made. here he'd come looking to find a comrade in...in something. and all he's managed is to find more damned and buggered weirdness. dragons! ]

A ship?

[granby frowns, more at the sudden retreat than anything else. he is an aviator, not a madman, and he certainly isn't contagious. his closest human link to home isn't allowed to go running off due to an irrational fear of dragons.]

Captain Granby of His Majesty's Aerial Corps. Not navy.

Aerial corps!

[ he repeats the word with utter doubt. saint george slew a dragon once -- but sharpe knew they were only stories. tales, the likes of which blas vivar told his men or sergeant harper whispered 'round the fire. nothing to truly believe in. not until here.

even so, there is the quiet grumbling in his gut that tells him an aerial corps would do better than a rocket troop. ] Indulge me, Captain. [ he puts on his best hard-ass major voice. ] Tell me the year.

[ back home. ]

1809. [sharpe may get a really rather effective hard-ass major voice, but all granby gets is the faintest hint of newcastle and a hard edge to his own voice as he gets more annoyed by the situation.] Tell me, what is the year for you, Major?

1813. [ and now he's terribly confounded. and his confusion (instead of being expressed like patient vulnerability) only makes him more insufferable. he grumbles: ] And we didn't have no bloody dragons in '09, either.

[ that had been talavera. standoffishly: ] Eagles flew in '09. Not dragons. [ french imperial eagles, and sharpe's men had been the ones to take down the first. but that's not what this is about. ]

Well, they were certainly flying in my '09 and I would bloody well know as I was captaining one of the beasts.

[confusion doesn't really sit any better on granby and he's apt to go sarcastic and use expressions that would make laurence and some of the corps' more well-bred members frown, but at least he hasn't turned into a total scrub yet. really, there can't be many people more ill-prepared to come to grips with the concept of alternate universes than a couple of soldiers from the napoleonic wars.]

[ honestly. he cannot think of a single battle where frigging dragons made any kind of a difference. his suspicion lingers.

but he's willing to entertain one last awful option: ] -- British?

[ as in are you? because although the bugger doesn't sound french or god-knew-what-else, perhaps the real reason he found himself so bloody confused was because he'd in fact stumbled across an enemy's secret weapon. ridiculous as it is, this is downright open-minded for major richard sharpe. ]

[granby nods, irritated and handling it less than gracefully. where else would he be from? they had both been talking about being in his majesty's service. they were both speaking English the appropriate (and in sharpe's case very noticeable) accents.] Born in Newcastle.

Newcastle! [ well fuck me, he thinks. though he spoke like a northerner he was hardly born there -- but he'd lived in the north long enough to know where the hell newcastle was. english, if barely. practically elbow-deep in scotland's arse.

won't hold it against him, though. the dragon on the other hand. ] London -- [ he says ] by way of Yorkshire. Though I ain't lived in England since I was a lad.

[ too busy fighting you know how it is. ]

[granby nods, though the yorkshire bit doesn't really take him by surprise. he'd have to be deaf to not recognize that.]

Where were you in 1813?

[and by extension, where was the army? and how is the war going? because clearly it wasn't over yet.]

[ london. but only for a few months -- and only under army orders. just barely. horse guards would have been happier he'd never shown his nose in their city. but he understands what the man wants: details; troop movements; a sniff of victory. ]

Spain. [ bloody hell, but how long had he been in spain? ] With Wellington poised to cross over into France. [ a spark of pride. he wants to be there when they march. he wants his men on that line. ]

Good. [and the slight, satisfied smile on granby's face says more than his words could. they've been fighting this damn war for far too long and the closer they get to paris, the closer they must be to finally ending it.]

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TEST DRIVE #6

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damn you for making me pin a year to him even if it doesn't stick in the end

whoops sorry!!!

hate you forever, etc, etc, except not because this thread is everything I want out of life

i'm just sorry i have to keep same-iconning you because his selection is so crap.

i'm threading a character from temeraire with sharpe. i wouldn't care if he had one icon total

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