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

[depicted]

[His smile has to widen just a bit more. He loves it when people have trouble verbalizing the situation they're in. It's so funny.]

Oscar isn't the most popular among the fair folk of another universe, no.

[And then a little laugh escapes him, just looking at the expression on Reese's face.] Do you really think you're that difficult to assess? I've hardly ever met an easier read.

[badlysocialized]

[His eyebrows twitch together as he lets go of Dorian's hand.] It's never been a problem for me.

[He can totally fake being normal if he wants to, Dorian. For whole five minute spans.

And as evidence of this, he gives a name.] John.

[depicted]

Ooh, a John! I haven't had many of those, but I wouldn't mind turning a trick for someone of your looks.

Your clothes, by the way. I haven't met many soldiers who wear suits tailored in Italy.

[badlysocialized]

[Dorian has managed, as few people ever do, to take Reese completely off-guard.

He sputters, picking at his jacket front while he searches for some kind of response that isn't incoherent or "I have a gun".]

No, thank you. {There. He hooks one finger over the edge of his jacket and runs the cloth between finger and thumb.] It was a gift. From a friend.

[depicted]

[This is the good life. Dorian can't help but laugh again, and this time he takes a step back, hands up in the air to show he means no harm.]

Sorry. It's just I came across you brooding here, and I couldn't help myself. Must be a friend with good taste.

[badlysocialized]

Good taste in clothes. [It is a very small joke, meaningless without the context of the people Finch keeps closest to him, but it sparks a smile on Reese's face.

The smile turns ironic.] Just escaping the party for a while.

[You haven't seen him in the middle of a good brooding fit yet Dorian, he hasn't had the chance to work into one.]

[depicted]

[Aww, it's sweet. It's also very obvious. This man really isn't the hardest guy to get a solid assessment on.]

Yes, I imagine you would be. Well, if you aren't interested in standing alone in the dark with your thoughts and a clear line of sight to every entrance and exit to your location, I'd recommend you check out your quarters and then go exploring. This is the sort of building with surprises for men like you.

[badlysocialized]

[a frown, as muted as the rest of his expressions]

Men like me don't like surprises.

[depicted]

[how sweet]

That is why I recommended exploring.

[badlysocialized]

[why is this man like talking to an amalgamation of root and shaw.

Dorian gets a long, blank look, before Reese summons his sweetest and most sarcastic tone:]

I would appreciate it if you could show me around instead.

[depicted]

[because homosexuals probably]

[Somehow, the sarcasm is even better.] Very well. I'll try not to trip you up.

[Dorian turns and starts walking, lifting an arm and giving a careless wave of his hand to indicate that Reese should follow. He chats idly, comfortably, no fear and nothing to prove.] 21st century, right? Same here. I hope the medieval elements aren't too difficult for you to adapt to—This way, it's the library. [And he turns sharply to walk through a door that looks like it should lead you into a drawing room, and indeed does, except that when you open the door after it you get into Caer Glaem's very impressive collection of books.]

[badlysocialized]

[He absorbs the chatter in silence until they get to the library. He pauses at the threshold, gives a quiet whistle. He follows Dorian inside, eyes skimming unfamiliar titles and glancing upward at the ones too distant to read. Ease creeps up on him as they walk. He likes libraries.]

This place needs a dog.

[depicted]

I'm sure if you ask nicely, Gwyddien will let you sleep here.

[badlysocialized]

I don't sleep in libraries. [Unless he's like, dying. And then he like. Breaks out of them. And stuff. And almost dies again.

Reese clears his throat.] Gwyddien?

[depicted]

You said it needed a dog. [yeah he just suggested that] Gwyddien is the librarian. Ask him about his writing and learn to appreciate romances and you'll be fine.

[With a careless hand, he points out different sections.] Histories, war strategy, fiction—increasingly less, to Gwyddien's displeasure, but war makes pragmatists of even library budgets—sympathetic magic there, that whole section is elemental magic, and then maps and such off in that room. It that helps.

[badlysocialized]

The one back home has a dog. [He is using his bland voice.] What's the difference? Between one kind of magic and another?

[MAGIC.]

[depicted]

I can point you to a good book on that.

[He sure as hell isn't explaining.]

[badlysocialized]

[ugh he so prefers human intelligence gathering to paper research. paper research is-

Finch's thing. He starts to reach for his earpiece and scratches the back of his neck instead.] Okay. You spend a lot of time here?

[depicted]

[That's an interesting gesture. But possibly nothing.] I like books. And Gwyddien. So, yes. I spend time here. but one can't waste away one's days in reading. If you would like the next part of the tour, it has objects that you can kill people with.

[badlysocialized]

[the barest raised brow, the smallest tinge of irony in his voice:]

Not in that business any more. [and a little too quickly:] Not that I don't admire the tools of the trade.

[depicted]

[Dorian decides Reese expresses himself with an entertaining mutedness.]

John. You've been drafted. It isn't a business. It isn't even an occupation. It i s just reality.

This way. [He takes a different path out of the library than the one he took in to navigate the halls between them and the armoury.]

[badlysocialized]

[An inkling of steel, this time. Reese does most everything mutedly, except where certain people are concerned.]

Then consider me a conscientious objector.

[His stride changes to match his attitude. Broader, with shoulders squared.

Reese really is an easy read.]

[depicted]

I'll find you a little "peace" button. [A glance at him] Something blue to bring out your eyes.

[badlysocialized]

[Startle him once, Dorian-]

Black does that just fine. [LIKE HIS SOUL - he can't even think that to himself without a twitch of amusement. The fact that he did think it just illustrates what a massive loser he is.]

[depicted]

[WHAT A FUCKING LOSER]

Just like that rumbled shirt look does a service to the fine tailoring of your suit jacket? [You are a shame to Italian tailors.]