fairynuff | TEST DRIVE MEME

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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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[Yeah, it's an unfortunate habit he's not entirely willing to break.

Nico snorts.]

As tempting as you make it, Grace, I wouldn't leave the moment I found it.

[If Piper doesn't kill him for doing that, then Reyna certainly will.]

Well, whatever you are, you certainly act like a typical human. Still, that's true enough.

[The air surrounding the cat sparked with warmth, and the ice turned to water and steam without touching it. It yawned and settled down, stretching, opening its jaws in a luxurious yawn, as though to punctuate a point.]

In a brief span of time Charles goes through a roller coaster of emotions. First there is disappointment that Jack is not a mutant. He can't help but feel that such powers, cryokensis and flight would be fascinating to study and learn about from the scientific standpoint of genetic mutation. But a 'Spirit of Winter' sounds more like mythology and magic, concepts that Charles has always appreciated in an academic sense but never truly believed in.

Of course he never believed in imps or faeries and look where that got him.

So he quickly squashes the disappointment and focuses on the intriguing nature of Jack himself. Up close the young man does have an almost fae appearance with his lightness of movement, pale skin and eyes. But there is also something that speaks of mischief, which has Charles smiling as he loops his hands together.

"I have to be honest," he said. "I do not have a great deal of experience with the idea of a 'Spirit of Winter'. I look at winter from a more scientific approach and in other circumstances, would look at your abilities as a genetic mutation."

He paused briefly and looked around the landscape just beyond the Station, before his eyes came back to Jack and his expression shifted to something slightly sheepish.

"However, in the past couple of days I've been forced to reevaluate my way of looking at things. Are you native, to this world?"

[ it shouldn't surprise alisha that rudy is arguing with himself over something incredibly daft. it's what she would expect from him — stupidity. it's how she remembers him. at a distance, she finds herself smiling — just a little bit — at seeing that rudy hasn't changed much (if at all) since she, well, left. it's not something she likes to bring up around him, her having tasted blood in her own mouth, since he cries and slobbers and snot goes everywhere — and she very much prefers to be in denial about that part of her life. she doesn't want to cry. she doesn't want to miss him. because she's here and she's not buried in the dirt — cold, alone, and completely and utterly forgotten. ]

[ god, he is so fucking annoying. ]

[ alisha approaches with a coffee in her hands and a frown. ] Are you finished moaning about yourself?

[what, not thalia?]

I'm not saying that, just...let me help figure something out, y'know? Don't try to do everything on your own.

His smile is indulgent. It's ... easy, somehow, to want to explain his own weirdness to this man he only just met. What passes for genuine interest is a novelty to Jack almost as much as it is a coveted rarity.

"No, I'm from Pennsylvania. Originally, anyway." Rubbing the back of his neck again, a nervous tic, he drags his hand around his neck with a mild groan. "It might get even weirder if I explain why or how. And it might be genetic, I don't know."

A hand pats his sleeve, absently rubbing there. How does the Moon's magic work, anyway? It isn't as if he ever got an answer on that score.

"I do bleed but it's ... It isn't like what happens to a normal person," he adds, blurting out, "I'm pretty sure anything genetic to do with me would come up nothing but dead cells. Not very helpful."

[Thalia will probably ask Artemis to turn him into an animal for the Hunters to hunt.

Nico gives him a look.]

I've been on my own for years. This is nothing new. I'll tell you whatever information I come across, but I'm not expecting you to tag along.

[His tone implies he doesn't want that anyway.]

What Jack was saying did cause the professor's left eyebrow to go arching upwards but it was more in curiosity than any sort of reservation about what he was hearing.

"Pennsylvania? I grew up in Westchester, New York," he offered as a way to show Jack that he was open minded about hearing the young man's story. "And if what I was told is correct, I do not believe any of us here can be making judgement on what defines 'normal'."

Sitting back, the friendly and welcoming smile was quick to return to his features, reaching all the way up into blue eyes.

"But here I am, quizzing you with what I suspect are rather personal questions and I haven't even asked if you'd like to join me for tea or something. Please forgive my lack of manners and join me?" He motioned to the other chair at his small table."

"This isn't any worse than some of the stuff the Unseelie throw out about me. At least you'll get your facts right, if you ever want to go that route."

Wry black humor precedes the way he shakes his head, lashes lowering for a moment to eye the tea, flicking back up to meet Charles's gaze. If this is a lack of manners, Jack's the Easter Bunny.

"I'm not hungry. Thanks, though. I'd cool it down if I came over there and you look pretty settled for the afternoon." In an effort to swing the conversation onto even ground, he asks, "Are you waiting for a friend out here?"

Inwardly he winced, as Charles realized he probably had sounded a bit as if he'd been sizing Jack up for an experiment. He gave an affable nod of his head at Jack's graceful decline of the invitation and reached for his mug of tea.

The question caught him in mid sip and he took the momentary pause of swallowing to gather his calm before responding.

"No friends, I'm afraid." He said in a breezy tone. The truth was he found it very unnerving to be here with out Raven, Erik or any of the others. While Raven hadn't been wrong in her claim to be his only friend, she had always been with him, since they were children and being completely alone was disquieting.

"I checked but it would appear that of those I know I am the only one the imps saw fit to bring here."

"I followed the fairies. Wish I hadn't, should've known better."

Three hundred years of spirits and creatures of folklore, and still Jack was a sucker for their pleas. He tilts his head at Charles and in the same light tone, makes an offer sound like a question.

"We can be friends, right? Until yours get led here, or something."

Jack is far from stupid, but he doesn't pretend to himself that he's interesting enough beyond the basics to keep a professor entertained for very long.

[Neither the Seelie or Unseelie courts are unfamiliar to her any longer, so often has she walked their halls. But she has no interest in striking up conversations with new arrivals, even as they feast on the food that's been left out for them. Others may welcome them, but not her. No, Morrigan treads carefully in a guise she uses rather often, relying on her magical talents rather than her diplomatic skills (of which there are few, as some may say).

She pads her way around in the form of a black cat, golden eyes flicking side to side with interest as she winds between people's legs and trips them up. At length, she will find a place at the end of the table to sit and watch, to look for familiar faces, and to gauge the will of those newly arrived.

You may even catch a glimpse of her true form, of a woman with raven hair dressed in wild clothes - or perhaps a gown, if you are lucky - who stands askance and does not speak.

But it is fleeting, as soon she will be a cat once more and padding out of the room and down the hall, more interested in what lies away from the merriment, locked away and out of reach.]

[ooc: morrigan can be new or she could have seen/spoken with your character before if you want to assume CR. I'm easy so go wild!]

Edited 2014-03-24 00:53 (UTC)

Charles couldn't bring himself to correct Jack from 'until' to 'if' as he honestly had no idea why the others hadn't been taken as well. They had all been on the beach together, hell he and Erik had just barely gotten off him (after a wicked right hook to the face) the imps should have grabbed them both.

Bah, thoughts for another time.

For now he smiled warmly and gave a nod of his head.

"I'd like that, Jack." There is definite sincerity in his tone and in an attempt to say away from questions that made him sound like a researcher he went for the common ground between them. "Have you been here long? You sound as if you've had some experience with the faeries here."

[ Allison can't argue that point, and the look on her face shows it; she follows Lydia's gaze at the people surrounding them, shaking her head slightly. ] And psychotic killers. These people just seem like Stiles on a bender.

scenario 1;

[Okay, so yeah, this was all really weird. Even having had it all explained to him, he still thinks it's weird. Really weird. He's had some time to settle and get used to it, but...still. Brought here by fairies to be a fighter for them? It sounds like some silly dream, or something.

Hiccup can't deny that the feast is pretty great, though. He may or may not have had his fill of the food there, grateful for it. He was hungry, okay? He's a Viking, eating is a big thing with them.

It's his curiosity that gets the better of him before the evening is through, however. Once he's satisfied himself with the food, he casts a quick glance around, just checking to see if anyone's paying him any mind. Of course, no one is, so he carefully sneaks away from the table and out the doorway into the castle hallways.

The place is a lot more grand than anything he's ever seen, and he can't help but admire it all as he walks. In fact, his gaze is everywhere but on where he's going, which, of course, leaves him very prone to tripping over something (possibly himself), or someone else.

Hopefully anyone heading his way is paying more attention than he is.]

Edited 2014-03-24 01:27 (UTC)

[He'll receive a snort as Garrett regains a sense of stability, eyes looking to the charm, then to Corvo. Not as one where he takes offense, but more of a "don't apologize, you look stupid" kind of thing. If there's anything he hates, it's people bumbling and apologizing for their mistakes. You don't say sorry and move on, in his mind, you fix the problem first, if there even is one. He has no time for socializing.

Unlike Corvo, betrayal doesn't occur very often for the thief. Mostly because he's a thief, but also because Garrett doesn't trust anyone, save for very specific people. He's survived on his own since he was a boy, and he learned very quickly that if he wanted to make it out alive? Only trust yourself. Work alone. Stick to the shadows and survive for your sake.

When you grow up alone, you grow up strong. No one there to support you.

And no one to hold you back.

It's not hard to follow in a world where people don't care about you. After a while, it becomes second nature. What's even more compelling is how easy they become to read after a while. How they go about their lives with greed, with want, for things they have, for things they cannot have. Studying them, and their motives, is a past-time for him, to the point where he makes people uncomfortable. In turn, he learns how to make himself difficult to read, a mysterious figure who doesn't speak much, but knows more than he ever says. That's how it's always been.

Still, there is a tilt of his head, and Garrett withdraws his arms fully, choosing instead to cross them. An eyebrow raises in intrigue, and he gives a rather amused look before speaking again.]

Garrett.

[His name isn't something to take lightly, as he doesn't give it out unless he wants to- but Corvo has earned his respect at the very least, a difficult thing to do when coming across the master thief, let alone in a first meeting.]

[Hey, that glower over there looks familiar.]

[...quite possibly because the exact same glower, plus one sort of jagged facial scar, is coming from another man in identical judicer's plate just across the way. They could be mirror images of each other, both with the same helm tucked under the same arm, if it weren't for the aforementioned scar--and the gash that isn't present on the helm of this man.]

[Basch has been in a foul mood ever since his arrival. He'd been out early, attending to some of his more menial duties as Judge Magister, when the fairies had caught his eye. Curiosity had kept him after them, and now curiosity has led him here. Away from his Lord and with only faint hope of return.]

[Foul mood.]

[He eyes the food and drink, trying nothing, keeping to the edges of the party. For the moment he's not yet noticed his mirror image.]

[ That look? Goes entirely ignored, unperceived, as he fastens the charm back to his belt with a subtle motion of his Marked hand; done, and forgotten, resuming its intended place (and probably, intended person).

Corvo wasn't a thief (by profession, anyway), however good he may have been at slipping in and out unnoticed. He had spent his years in a court since he was a youth; he wasn't nobility, or a politician by any stretch of the term, but he was nonetheless forced into etiquette. He was curt, and straight to the point and had good posture, and when the Empress sent her Protector away, to appeal the other Isles during Dunwall's time of need, he only did so because he had to. Because the Royal Spymaster suggested it, and Jessamine agreed and ultimately, you don't say no.

It wasn't a question of trusting the Loyalists, those 'allies' that stabbed him in the back once his use expired. He relied on them and that would be the extent of it; he wished he hadn't. Technically, they were his only option. And they did get him out of jail, supply him with weapons and that mask. Carelessness was his undoing, recklessness and petty hurt after him failing the purpose he was given; after failing his dearest friend and her daughter.

The man's got his fair share of guilt, and he's stupidly lucky to be alive, with a lesson to learn and scars to heal from.

Unlike Garrett, however, he could not survive for his own sake; he would do instead so for vengeance, and for Emily Kaldwin, that little girl who lived through a little too much and who would one day rule as fair empress.

His own expression is an easy one, with a press of his mouth that could be taken as bemused. look this is the most he's talked to someone in a long while ok ] Corvo Attano.

[ wow he is so grateful garrett he's even giving you his in return ] Well played.

[ in turn, master thief, you left quite an impression. ]

[She's probably noticed him a few times by now, keeping to the shadows of both the Seelie and the Unseelie halls. Where some may go and have joyous festivities, Garrett instead chooses to explore, to wander, to steal. It doesn't matter what little trinket those pair of earrings belong to, or the bracelet or even that little chalice, it's his now. The Unseelie had happily stolen him away, yet he has no intention of joining either side. He's a thief, not a soldier, and so he has no interest in fighting a war. Not unless he can reap the benefits without picking a side.

His feet make their way along the carpeted floor, but he is silent, hands slipping from his cloak to snatch something that catches his eye, or pull out a pair of lockpicks lodged in his gloves beneath the folds of his wrists. Picking locks is like child's play, but that doesn't mean he isn't cautious. There are glances to the left and right, listening for approaching footsteps, using his Focus to see potential dangers or ways to use something to his advantage.

Morrigan can bother him whenever she likes. He won't appreciate it, but that certainly doesn't mean she shouldn't try.]

[Galadriel has strayed away from the festivities herself, carrying a glass of wine out to one of the little gardens adjacent to the feasting hall. She's lost in her own thoughts when she notices a little black cat winding her way along the path.

A cat who is more than she seems, she thinks.]

You may take your true form, if you wish. [She sips from her glass.] I am alone here, for the moment, and there is little need to continue your charade for my sake.

[Galadriel is mingling in the crowd, trying to get a better sense of this place- of what she (perhaps foolishly) has walked into. It's only by chance that she turns at the right time, catching sight of Lúthien out of the corners of her eyes.

And she has to look again to be sure of what she's seeing. It's impossible. It's completely impossible, but there she is anyway, as breathtaking as Galadriel remembers her.

She approaches, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder to get her attention.]

Lúthien? [She almost expects to wake up when she speaks, to find that this is only some queer dream.]

[ Unfortunately, the odds of either twin making the other's mood any less foul are staggeringly slim, and only growing slimmer by the second. By the time Gabranth actually notices Basch's presence — not only notices him, but recognizes the scar upon his brow, recognizes the plate as his own, and deduces the only possible explanation for the combination of both — those odds might as well be non-existent.

Of course, while he can deduce some reason behind his brother's appearance as he sees him now, some questions remain — namely, why he should also have ended up in a place like this, leaving behind whatever duty Gabranth had entrusted to him with his last breaths. Some answers do occur to him, but none are to his liking, and all make his discontent grow ever greater.

So it's with a darkening scowl that Gabranth makes his way to where his brother stands. ]

Basch fon Ronsenburg!

[ He intends to find those answers, whether he likes them or not. ]

[They were almost mirrors. Galadriel, too, had a glass of wine in hand and her long hair cascaded down past her waist, the waves of gold and silver highlighted against the white of her gown.]

Celebrían.

[Galadriel does not raise her voice, but it carries on the air all the same.]

[There was relieved look in Beleg's eyes when he hears this.]

It lightens my heart to hear this, my lady. And I ask that should you have any need, that you call on me freely.

[Galadriel smiles lightly as she glances down at him.]

Pace yourself, Master Dwarf; the food will not flee from you.

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TEST DRIVE MEME

For real, and Nico doesn't envy him.

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bypassing reunions to save it for later

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Morrigan | Dragon Age | ota

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yes ok if you get a random add from motomiya that's me

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III | How to Train Your Dragon

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