TEST DRIVE MEME

[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 ) Samwise Gamgee | The Lord of the Rings

[keepgoing]

[ Samwise Gamgee doesn't like this, not one bit. He'd come to be more used to being surrounded by all those big folk under fire, you see, and he had a purpose. Follow Mr. Frodo, do right by Gandalf and his old Gaffer. Keep Mr. Frodo safe, at all costs, that was your responsibility, Sam Gamgee. Except now he's somewhere else, and after threatening a few of whomever were keeping him captive (a surprise to even himself, but much had changed about him in the past few months, with all that had happened), here's here, at a party, surrounded by big-folks without a familiar face in sight.

It could be easy for him to hide in the corner and succumb to a natural hobbit-like shyness towards men and the like, but he doesn't. You've got to do better than that Samwise Gamgee. He rustles up his courage, an easier task than he would have ever expected not long before, and weaves his way through the crowd. He's looking for familiar faces, and asking questions. ]

the admirable / mairon | the silmarillion, pre-defection

[lordof]

[coaxed? perhaps. if they would call it 'coaxing' to justify their own measures. the admirable cares little for wars of another world.

so he's not sure where he is right now, having taken off as soon as the little pixies finished their introductions. left a scorching trail of footsteps in his wake, puddles of cooling magmatic crust. only after he comes to a stop does his form turn to heated flesh, and fire and stone to clothes only borderline proper, a distant imitation (or mockery) of those seen on the pixies.

he stands, quiet, eyes closed. listening. there are enough crystal shards protruding through his skin that he wonders if he can pull out the one they claim belongs to them. since before you were born.

it makes him want to laugh.]

[chiot]

[ Gavroche knows better than to mess with people. Especially people that work and live here--because he's been watching this tiny man with big hairy feet wander around, all shy. He's reminded of a few of his gang he's taken under his wing, taught to fly.

That's why he likes him automatically, weird ears and hair feet and shyness behind. And that's exactly why, during a moment where Gavroche is stuffing his face full of strange sweets, he smacks his lips rudely the moment the strange man wanders by. ]

No oen ain't gonna take you seriously, monsieur. Not if you run around with big feet an' a scared smile.

Mairon!

[morgoth]

[ Melkor enjoyed wandering around the outer circle of the world a great deal more than the other vala, and had assumed the delights of the fell creatures who'd led him here might be his alone to enjoy of the Ainur. Selfish, but he loved to have secrets of his own.

But when he hears the familiar sizzle, when the fabric of his mind senses something know to him on its outer edges, he takes up his glass of wine, and snatches another up from the passing platter held by some manner of mortal servant, and drifts towards the source of that familiarity.

The line of his mouth slanted, the veins of molten rock flowing forward over his stony skin going bright and hot for a moment before he remembers he should match better the appearance of his hosts. So his figure goes a little smaller, skin softening to something like flesh, the brilliance of his spirit cloaked into physical form; garbed in black as dark as shadow, the handsome, long fall of his black hair gathered into a loose plait that lays forward over his shoulder. He offers Mairon one of the glasses, black brows arching. ]

Mairon.

just because i want this to happen

[avisionofwar]

[ What is this strange, dwarfish thing scuttling about beside the tables?

Serving staff, likely. Celegorm inclines his pointed chin, his thin-lipped mouth curving into a faint frown. Neatly-- because he's faster, more precise in movement-- he presses an empty glass into Samwise's chubby mitt as the Hobbit passes him by. It's the sort've elegantly irreverent thing one would do to a servant they expect to be seen, not heard, and no sooner is it done than Celegorm turns back to his previous conversation across the table, ignoring Samwise utterly. ]

have a crazy wizard, sam

[aiwendil]

[Was that...? Yes, that was indeed a hobbit unless he was mistaken. Radagast whirled around as he hurried past the hobbit, peering at him with narrowed eyes. He had never met this particular one before, though he remembered Bilbo. Gandalf had also made mention of the hobbits before, having been a friend of them for quite some time.

So the wizard didn't hesitate to approach Sam, peering at him curiously.]

Another hobbit! Friend of Gandalf's, aren't you?

not husband!!

[lordof]

[he chooses gold for his, in color and cover. gold and fire and molten things. his hair flows freely, rippling like the surface of water, or some fall of liquid metal constrained to the fibers of the world.

darkness makes no sound. at least, that is what others will say; the mortals, the physically bound. but it does. it sounds hollow, echoing. melkor is more than just shadow besides, and in this moment there is less of that chaos that mairon dislikes.

he accepts the glass delicately, as if testing to see if the heat of his hand will warp the structure of it.]

Lord Melkor. [his gaze flickers, light and dust. the drink itself interests him little, but he takes a sip for appearance's sake.] I see even the Valar are not immune to this world's temptations.

[knavishness]

Now that's an entrance.

[Will is no where near as drunk as he'd like to be and wonders if it's part of the curse: A genie shall not get drunk because there is no toilet in the bottle. What a waste of good beer. He tries to find other things to distract him and the vision the other man makes, lava and crystal, is very distracting]

You one of them then, or one of us?

[keepgoing]

[ What is this? Sam's startled in that instant that suddenly, though he was minding his own business, there's something being thrust into his hand. A quip sits on his tongue about how he's a hobbit on a mission and he doesn't have time for being festive when he's been up and kidnapped like this, but it drops off at the sight of, well, wow, an elf. He feels like he's seen so very many elves now in the last short but infinitely long stretch of his life and yet he's always in awe of them, always stunned.

Well okay perhaps he can be a bit more polite about it all. ]

Begging your pardon, Master Elf, but I've not got the time for drinking, for all I'd like to.

[ And so he thrusts the glass right back. ]

NOTHING SEEMS CRAZY ANYMORE HE'S A HOBBIT ON THE LAM

[keepgoing]

[ Now hobbits are suspicious folk to begin with, but now that Sam's got something and someone to protect, and it's his responsibility and his alone mind you, he's less suspicious of of foreigners and more suspicious of unsavory characters as a whole. As the only wizard he's ever known in his whole life had been Gandalf, who carries himself in a calm and collected manner without much exuberance outside of his jolly disposition. This one seems a bit mad, and any mad big-folk are right out in his book.

So yes, being approached by this one is concerning and gets his guard up. That is, until he hears the name Gandalf. He can't help but sink into himself where he had been bubbling up, and the wound is still too new. ]

I'm sorry to be the one who had to tell you this, sir, but Gandalf...I was his friend, sir, or at least I'd say so, not sure he'd say the same being a great wizard and all, and me just a hobbit from the shire but...Gandalf fell sir. In the mines.

I'm sorry.

Meera Reed | ASOIAF | Spoilers for Dance with Dragons

[greywater]

( three; seelie court )

[The strangeness of this place fills even the air as her eyes lift up to look around the ornate room. The idea of court itself is not strange, though she imagines King's Landing to be as prodigious. Winterfell held it's own finesse before it was sacked. The thought brings a frown to her place, for she remembers it's halls wells. It was finer than the swamps and the boys of the Neck, and the mystery that surrounded Greywater. That isn't to say she did not like her home, for Meera is ever a Crannogman. She simply has never bothered with the fineries they offer her here, being the daughter of lord (a lesser lord but still a lord).

It makes her uneasy. Much of this does. She does not feel beholden to the Seelie court. She is a Stark bannerman, and without Bran here she worries for both him and her brother Jojen. The strangeness is not unfamiliar to her though, as much as she mislikes it. Words like fairy and magic are commonplace to her now, and when last she remembered of home, she was a guest under a hill of beings not so unlike the fairies here. But just as she sat there, hoping for Prince Bran's safety and the strength to continue on as her brother's health depletes each day that passes, here she feels no calmness. Only a worry for what is to come.

So even as the court dines and people try to engage her, she is quiet and barely smiles. She feels like she has broken her vow to King Robb, to Bran, and a failure to her own House for not remaining with Bran. She tries to remain hopeful though, smiling at what jokes are told as others talk around her. She's pleasant enough and not nearly as sullen as Jojen, the little grandfather, but still it weighs on her.]

[keepgoing]

[ Funny thing is, that even when they were in Bree, Sam hadn't a chance to meet any children. He always imagined children of men to be big too, so when he's face to face with what looks mightily like a pint-sized man, who is exactly the same height as him--and he's not a particularly tall fellow for a hobbit--It's a bit of a surprise.

Maybe he's not one of the big-folk. Either way, it's rude to insult a Hobbit's feet like that. Their feet are a matter of pride. ]

I'm not scared, and pardon me saying so but you're the one with odd feet, them being so small and in shoes.

Fred Burkle | Angel

[whycantistay]

( two )

[Finding herself here isn't very conducive to her sanity. She isn't supposed to just find herself in a new world. Last time that happened, she not only lost years but she lost herself. Fred stays huddled on the side of a building, wide eyed and trying not freak out. Going over Avogadro's number in her head, she tells herself these aren't demons. It's hard not to picture them when she closes her eyes, and her hand instinctively feels around her throat where her brain reminds her there is no collar. She isn't a slave.

She isn't a cow. She's Winifred Burkle and they brought her for a reason. Though she's not entirely sure what for since she's not a fighter like Angel or Charles, and she's not knowledgable like Wesley, and she isn't kind and brave and has princess like qualities like Cordy. She's just plain ole, boring Fred. Maybe if they need a toaster to shoot out axes, she'd be more useful.

It doesn't help much though. What good is she? Li'l crazy Fred whose cooped up in the hotel most of the time. It took her a long enough time to come out of the room they gave her, but people were talking about how the Station was like home. And home was good. Maybe she could build something that would work there. After all technology is useless, and she finds herself even more obsolete because of that fact.

So she tried. Venturing step by step like a deer crossing the road, she just wanted a pair of pants and maybe a taco if she could find it.

If only Angel were here...]

the noise i made was not human

[firith]

[ Legolas is the one who befriended the Ringbearer, not Thranduil. Rather, Bilbo has been, albeit briefly, the sum total of the Elvenking's experience with hobbits, but he has heard wonderful things over the years about each of the Fellowship and finds himself wholly quite warmed to the little folk of the Shire. Before his son sailed west, there was a genuinely fond respect for Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin that Thranduil would read as clear as day in Legolas's face. So it isn't up to Samwise to break the ice, not really; keen elven eyes notice him wending his way through the legs of everyone else at the feast and see only a hobbit, without real recognition, and he steps into his path with a sussuration of silver-gold robes. If he can be of assistance to Bilbo and Frodo's people, he will. ]

You seem to have misplaced your friends, master hobbit. [ Even without having met before, just as easily as Thranduil can tell a hobbit from anything else in this land, he himself is quite clearly an elf of Arda. ] Or else to be in quite the hurry.

[chiot]

'course they're in shoes. IF they weren't, maybe I'd step in glass or dung. I got enuffa the smell, don't wanna get it 'tween my toes, huh? Huh?

[ But Sam talks funny and Gavroche winds up smiling wide, stuffing his face with another bun, and laughing. ]

Jokes on you, huh! But I like how ya look, jus' it's funny, is all.

[aiwendil]

[A bit mad? Well, perhaps, Radagast is very much on edge as he wrings his hands, distressed at Sams words.]

Do you mean he fell again? Oh Gandalf- [Then he paused, rooting around in his ear with one finger before looking back at Sam once more.] In the mine you say? I saw him just the other day- [A pause, did he see Gandalf? Ah yes, he remembered the white robes, he had thought it was Saruman at first, that had been distressing.] Ah yes, I've seen him, he gave me a bit of a scare but you know he's alive and well, don't you?

The Necromancer ( Sauron the Great and Terrible ) | Tolkien, Hobbit-era

[aringonit]

( could anyone by more unseelie than this bitch? probably not. )

[ For centuries upon centuries, for so many moons and suns Sauron had clawed and scraped for enough power to hold physical form. He longed for it like he longed for his ring to once again sit on his finger. Losing it had been so very easy, letting that beautiful gift of the Valar sink into the sea when Numenor fell and exchanging it for a skin more terrible. He had been so strong, once, to be able to will upon himself a form of his choosing, but he had been foolish, blinded by his own arrogance.

( It would not happen again. )

He never did believe he would be gifted with the strength to hold a physical form ever again, with the terror he most willingly inflicted on the hearts of men, elves and ainur alike, but he is pleased. They told him, the fae that attend to his radiance, that it is a gift in exchange for service and to that he merely scoffs. Sauron serves but one, who is long gone. He will take his gift in stride, with a pleasant beauty. He will wrap those fae who hold him around his finger as he did once the Numenorians, of that he had no doubt.

And so The Necromancer was Sauron once again and Annatar Lord of Gifts all at once. Beautiful and terrible he joins the party and stretches his bones and muscles, long and elegant fingers wrapping around a goblet of wine.

Too sweet. How quaint. ]

screw it here have the bard too *pretends he's seelie temporarily or something*

[bythewaves]

[ There's a song drifting up from somewhere outside - sad and lonely and terribly broken - its like but not to the things Sam would have heard in Rivendell, but nothing in Rivendell ever carried such pain. It speaks of blood on white sands and fire on the water, of madness and loss and grief. If Sam follows it, there's a tall elf with a harp in a corner of the courtyard ]

[lordof]

I am what I am. [the veins of magma show through his skin for a moment before dimming, and the crystals smooth out into something more skin-like as time passes. he's still adapting to this strange appearance of theirs, all flesh and bone and individual strands of molten, flaxen hair and shift when he shrugs.

even his voice sounds off, as if covering more frequencies than humanly possible. definitely not at all drunk or tipsy, though he has a glass of wine in hand.]

My allegiance is to one who is not here, and I serve no other.

Aveline Vallen (dragon age 2)

[whereyouneedme]

[ the explanation given upon her arrival has yet to sink in to Aveline, many things stick out - seelie, unseelie, unfamiliar as they are to her. She's no stranger to magic, to demons, abominations (and that was just another week in Kirkwall)... Maker, even a high dragon recently. She's fought and faced as such, but can't imagine what they want with her. Hawke was the one with a knack for getting into situations like this, usually she just happens to be with the woman when they pick her up.

She feels odd, and out of place. The unfamiliarness of it all doesn't sit well with her, the feeling of being thrown out of what she knows she can handle isn't exactly a new one to Aveline but she doesn't like it. Pressing two fingers over the bridge of her nose, she sighs.

Better to be seen as unhappy with this turn of events, to hide her true discomfort - she walks through the hall of people, some kind of banquet going on? Her mood could hardly be counted as celebratory, but it's a good as any way to get some better insight on the situation from others here, she supposes.

All of this makes her long for the problems that are more easily solved by bashing a shield into a thugs skull, truthfully. ]

[knavishness]

[It's fascinating to watch the other man slowly become more human. If he cared at all, Will would have said the man was good looking for a lava monster, or whatever he was]

Yeah, well, my allegiance is to myself, but it seems they don't really recognize independence, or care as it were.

[Will nodded towards the seemingly happy crowd]

What do you make of all this shard nonsense?

dslkfhlashfdlakshdhasd

[morgoth]

[ Melkor is again as once he was, handsome, square-jawed, his long dark hair gathered into an intricate plait let to fall forward over his broad shoulder. He is tall and broad enough to be imposing just by virtue of his presence; for he can move again unmarked, only the black oilslick of his mind to give him away a half-second before his body does, both brushing just faintly against the edges of Mairon's senses.

His rough fingertips touch Mairon's elbow, plucking neatly at the fabric that hides skin from him. ]

The darkness here only makes you seem more fair, by comparison, Mairon.

[huge_egomd]

House almost smiled at the way the kid...Aang, his name was Aang...went from childish exuberance to an adult-like formality. He thought Aang should stick to being a child. It suited him. Besides, goodness knew politeness was wasted on House.

"Good to meet you. I'm Greg." He offered his hand because, well, if they were going to make this official, then it had to be sealed with a handshake. "And just so you know, I'm a doctor, and I say Avatar or no Avatar, you really do need to find a safer way to amuse yourself for a few days. A nice game of chess, perhaps."

[rube]

[his lips press into a thin line; he's not entirely sure how to answer javik, if at all. sure, he's read of majestic places from the bible, but the only other fantasy he'd read wasn't even fantasy -- he had mostly read mystery books.

glancing over his shoulder, he shakes his head.]

I'm not from a place that has fancy castles like this. None of this seems real.

[actually112]

Aang took a moment to look at the offered hand in mild confusion, then oh! Yeah, he remembered! It was an Earth Kingdom gesture of greeting.

He smiled widely and clasped Greg's hand in his before shaking. "Good to meet you too, Greg. One question..." He released Greg's hand with big, curious eyes. "What's chess?"