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]

[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.]

[badlysocialized]

[May Finch and Dorian never meet.]

My shirt is fine, too.

[He just got it to rumple the way he likes.]

[depicted]

You must make your friend weep.

[badlysocialized]

[No don't say that. He looks away, studying the architecture of the building instead of Dorian.]

[depicted]

[There's silence from the man, so Dorian looks at him.

Seriously?]

I meant with your fashion crimes.

[badlysocialized]

[He makes a noise of acknowledgement that is something like "mmfh".]

You said there were weapons.

[depicted]

Medieval, of course. Swords, longbows, crossbows, spears, et cetera. Nothing very modern, I'm afraid, but I'm certain you will adapt.

[badlysocialized]

[Uuuuuuuuugh.] Daggers or knives?

[At least those he can use comfortably already. And if he gets something like a mace, he can just hit people with that. Doesn't cover the issue of range versus something longer, but one disaster at a time.

He's going to keep his gun stockpile to himself for as long as possible.]

[depicted]

[He knows that look.] A few. And not just from the armoury.