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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[ Whatever welcome the courts had held for the newly arrived fodder (which is, honestly, all that Draco can see them as, truly), it certainly did not meet the standards of a dragon. No space for someone so big, too cramped, too crowded, too many stares. This was not the peaceful end he'd been sent off to and that rubbed his scales the wrong way, but he knew enough of the fair folk to decide against raging and setting everything aflame.

Instead, he retreated to the skies and he's been flying off his despair and rage, but even he can't fly forever. He's no spring chicken of dragons, so his angry departure has turned into a general exploration of this new realm at every instance where he lands.

A grown dragon of no particularly special color can be found making such landings all over the forested areas, the meadows, plains, anywhere not boasting a huge city of any kind. He's made his peace with man, but cities...

Even if built by something other than humans, they're no place for him. So out there, in the wilderness, he'll set down. If the sound his wings made and the dust the effort kicks up do not mark his presence well, his first complaint at every locale just might. ]

All this land and not even one herd of sheep in sight! Some magical kingdom this is...

[ Sooner or later the sights beyond the windows of Caer Glaem tempted Legolas into exploration of what he held closer to his heart than dusty and cold hallways of castles of stone. Woods and plains and even mountains, though that last part was something of a begrudging interest: the tops of them a welcome place to explore, their hearts only in the company of a dwarf friend who, unfortunately, did not seem to respond to the summons for he was not present.

No steed to speak of, all travel he did was by feet. Tireless and light footed, running long distances was no issue and with sights new and beautiful to accompany him, it was not tedious either.

One thing Legolas didn't expect, however, not ever after Smaug has been slain by Bard the Bowman some several hundred years ago, was to see a dragon ever again. The one of awfully few banes of the elves and he freezes in spot, reaction time delayed by far, more so than what was acceptable for an bowman of his fame. But his blood ran cold in his veins and his fingers felt numb as he reached for an arrow in his quiver... he sets it to the string, but his motions are too sluggish.

What good would it do anyway? It was no black arrow and only those could slay a dragon, he knew.

In any case, here stands an elf, tall and proud, with his bow raised and an arrow nocked on the string. He's ready to shoot, and determination to survive is evident, though he can't quite hide the hints of fright that threaten to overwhelm him every second. ]

[ As if Draco would even be surprised to see this reaction. It's a miracle no one made the attempt sooner than now! Which meant, when the dragon picked up the faintest sound of movement from Legolas, his head snapped around to turn in that direction, eyes narrowing once he spotted him, but no move is made to leave the spot he had settled down at.

Once he's gotten an idea of what the situation, an archer, arrow nocked, he breathed a long sigh out through his nose and turned the rest of his body to face the same direction he'd turned his head. To this particular dragon, any well-aimed arrow might as well be a black arrow, but there was no need to let anyone know that just yet. ]

You there! [ He didn't need to raise his voice all that much for it to carry, as large as he was in comparison. ] Yes, you. I see you and your little bow. Either get on with it or leave, I don't have all day.

[ Facing a creature large like this, that could easily melt the flesh off his bones and perish him from this world, send him to a fate of waiting in the Halls of Mandos until the end of Arda, Legolas displays a fair amount of composure to stand where he is and threaten a dragon with a flimsy arrow. His resolve grows firm, body taunt and ready to duck or attack.

And yet the dragon doesn't attack immediately. It buys Legolas some time, just enough to soothe his nerves, stop his hand from trembling, though the heart within his breast continues pounding wildly.

When he speaks, it's sharply, in a tone that's demanding and without a single hitch to betray unease. ]

You should leave and return to whatever foul cave you crawled out of.

[ Return to whatever treasures the dragon gathered, bathed in blood of the innocents most likely. Such was the nature of dragons after all, to covet gold, to slay all those who stood in their way. No friends had the dragons, neither had they many foes for killing a dragon for many was a task nearly impossible. ]

You will not lay waste on these lands!

[ So it seems they are destined to stand in their places and exchange threats, then, as the archer appears to be as intent on remaining as Draco is. For someone who has gone over this type of conversation a hundred times over, he can hardly take it in any seriousness and the retort is just as sharp and dripping with sarcasm. ]

Oh, but if I could, I would with great haste, archer. However, it would seem I have misplaced my horrible, dreary, bone-littered lair in another realm entirely. [ As lightly as he sounds to be taking this, he doesn't look away from Legolas even once, hardly blinking. One could lose an eye too easily if a close watch wasn't kept on such a person. ] Since you seem to attached to this land, I don't suppose you know where I could find a new one to slither away into, hmm?

[ The first dragon Legolas faced in person and in such close quarters. Unlike some that he had known. The horrors they were capable of were unknown to him in full, but what he knew was already quite enough to put him on the edge in the presence of one. And yet there was something too odd and too bizarre about this particular dragon, by most standards of creatures evil and foul as the dragons were said to be.

For one, he seems to be having a conversation with it. ]

This land is new to me, but it is already dear to my heart and like any land in any realm it does not deserve the calamity of a dragon unleashed on it.

[ His eyes narrow, but the arrow stays safely nocked. ]

Have you answered the summons of the Fair Folk as well, if this realm is not yours to call home?

[ A question he might've answered if the statement preceding it hadn't finally managed to upset him. He straightens up, bringing himself up high, although that matters little since the distance between doesn't allow for looming of any kind. The sudden movement brings his wings half open, as well, though still he does not charge forward in any way.

Luckily for Legolas, he prefers his temper not be ended with a body count, not unless there's no other choice. ]

The calamity of a dragon? I have never in any of my days unleashed such a thing upon any land! Am I to be as unwelcome here as back home? As hunted? Now I ask again, either shoot or be gone, archer! I am growing tired of being pointed at!

Edited (words) 2014-03-16 23:25 (UTC)

[ Nerves of steel Legolas had not, though the many years of his life had tempered him well already, just enough, thankfully, to not let the arrow fly all by an accident in a jolt of surprise when the dragon moves suddenly and with a clear threat. Threat that never comes to fruition, more a show of power, a show of upset - genuine, Legolas can make out the feeling in the words - and that is startling all over again. Though in a different way, one that runs deeper and does not show quite so easily in trembling hands or watchful gaze.

He lowers his bow, the arrow still in place, through confusion and newly sparked curiosity. ]

It has been unheard of, in all of Middle-Earth that I have travelled, for a dragon to not bring death upon its wings. With my own eyes I have seen waste laid upon Dale and many years later upon the Lake-Town by a firelord of the North, drawn to these lands by the temptation of all the treasures of Erebor...

[ Legolas trails off in wonder, wishing to solve this riddle dropped to his feet, thus the question: ]

How is it that you are different?

[ His weapon may be lowered, but his guard is not. Lies come easy to creatures of the darkness, Legolas knows better than to relax just yet. ]

Pfah. Middle-Earth, Dale, Erebor.

[ Draco repeats the names at a ill-concealed mutter, then snorts and raises a front claw to wave them off, as if they mean nothing. Which is true enough, to him. He does not know these places, much less what dragons may have harassed them. ]

I know those places even less than I know this one! I am a dragon of the north, that much is true, but I hail from the lands of Avalon. From Albion and Britannia and any other name it might be that man calls it these days.

[ He had stopped caring after a time, as man calls places many things over time. ]

Tell me. [ He settles his claw back down on the ground and once again narrows his eyes. ] Is your kind wholly good? Every last one that has ever been?

[Janine's a little anxious around anything bigger than she is. And she's big, but still!

It's her nature not to show fear, though. She sights the dragon along her long beak, the better to look at him with both eyes and not one at a time. Janine's 'voice' is young. She was fourteen when she was human.]

:Herds make it too easy, anyway.:

[ What an odd creature...

Draco gives it a wary look at first, but once it begins speaking in a way, however that might be, that lessens. Sentience in someone much closer to what he is than anything else he's met so far is more of great interest than of extreme worry, and so he snorts.

A little amused. ]

When you are older, you'll much prefer 'too easy' to be what's on the menu.

[She snorts back. It's a resonant sound which carries well, thanks to the hollow space in her beak.]

:Aren't older people always saying patience is great? That's all I need. Or somewhere to fish.:

[Since she actually can't chew, just about anything found in a herd is something she'd have to laboriously tear apart to eat. Janine has this issue with anything larger than a fox.]

Patience is only a virtue up until your stomach is empty, even with fish.

[ Then all bets are off. He takes a seat on the ground where he is and regards her curiously. ]

I must admit that I have never seen a beast quite like you before. Are you of this realm?

:That's when patience is most important. Charging around scares food.:

[She largely hunts with stealth. Janine flies well but is ill designed for pouncing like a raptor.]

:No. I'm from somewhere with a lot fewer things that talk.: [Now she moves head and flexible, muscular neck in something like a shrug.] :Not sure I want to go back.:

Then I suppose I must be very lucky to always get the drop on my prey.

[ Because most do not look up, especially not the duller beasts the humans keep. Still, with those not yet found here, his usual ways may require some alteration. That he'll ponder on later. He tilts his head curiously to one side, focused on this stranger from somewhere else instead of thoughts of food. ]

No? Not a friendly place you came from, then, is it?

[ Or perhaps just lacking in conversation. That's a problem, as well! ]

[Janine partially unfolds her flight fingers and tucks them back against herself again.]

:Everywhere's unfriendly. Some places just don't bother lying about it so much. Don't you think, Rusty?:

[She has a tendency to give everything nicknames.]

Rusty?

[ Should he be insulted? Then again, that is slightly more imaginative than, say, Draco. ]

[Headtilt.]

:You're sorta reddish. Not as red as me, but hey, we can't all be perfect. Why, you'd rather I call you something else?:

Reddish? [ That's a new one to him. He had always thought himself more brown-toned, but far be it for him to give her the idea to call him something like 'Browny' instead! ] No, no, you may call me what you like. I have had many names before now and that one would hardly be the worst.

[Her face is completely inflexible, she really shouldn't be able to look as amused as she does.] :Right, then! Oxide. Tarnish. Old Man... Mmm, I gotta think about this.:

[ Dragons do not like cages; even the gilded sort and it takes a few long, heavy beats before she can breathe without wanting to Shout as a dragon would, without wanting to burn it all away in her own anger.

Her soul - a dragon's soul - seethed and clawed against her being, coiled with injured pride that for the few moments of her arrival nearly made her vision white.

But the overlords of this land were not familiar to her, and while she had no doubt very little would withstand yol, ashes would not guarantee her safe return to a world she was meant to save. Bloody, damned little things couldn't wait, could they? They never could.

She took to the plains, to exploration, nearly as soon as she could, with the bow at her back and the dagger at her hip comfortable weights.

She wasn't sure if she heard the beat of his wings or felt his presence first. But that ageless soul rises on its hackles, drawn to something distinctly familiar yet not and the dragonborn raises her eyes to the sky, watches as the dragon - no sort she recognizes - lands not to far away, dust and wind and grass rising beneath the great span of wings.

And speaks in a tongue she understands.

Her approach is marked by tense shoulders and a breath eased to be ready to Shout if there is a need. ] Captured and coddled by some petty nuisances and you complain about a lack of sheep?

[ There's a pause, because her quip was secondary, really. She looks at him, in sort of familiar wonder, and her dragonblood resounds, pinpricks in her fingertips. ] You are not from Skyrim at all, are you?

[ That he keeps landing places already occupied makes him begin to doubt his eye sight! Not that it matters much, as he has never, in his life, faced a threat from a woman. More like that they always knew he was no threat, though, and perhaps he should take one so armed and cocky with some seriousness. There is something strange about her.

Still, when he turns towards her voice and eyes her, her banter receives an ill-amused huff in reply. ]

Of course! Mutton is a very important foodstuff to worry about.

[ Immensely important, at that! Especially when one doesn't care to go gallivanting after something more clued in to avoiding large shadows from above. ]

And no, I am not. [ She does get points for figuring that part out on her own. ] I take it your Skyrim has dragons, then, if you are asking me such a thing?

[ Armed and cocky was perhaps the most accurate of observations to be made; fair enough it would be to say that that was as complicated as it got most days (most, but not all). ]

It does. [ A rise of her brow, and that subtle arrogance persists in the tilt to her head and the wry twist of her mouth, overshadowed only by growing interest (pervading questions, and a lure of potential knowledge). But for that, she must humble her pride. ] Though a different sort. Ones that are more eager to fight than talk.

[ A part of her hates how she has to crane her neck up to look to him; each time a dragon is met the reminder is there. How she is bound to a body that would never see the world as only a dovah can. When she speaks, her tone is tinted with a slight sort of envy. ] What have you seen, up from that sky of theirs?

Hmph. So long as your weapons remain at your sides, a fight should be the least of worries.

[ He does not enjoy being stabbed and shot, thank you very much. The question of what he has seen, however, garners the raise of one big scaly brow. ]

From their skies? Forests and great swathes of green between, lochs and lakes, cities and castles. It is a whole land, certainly not lacking in size, but of what interest in a view from above does a human hold? You will not be able to navigate from my viewpoint.

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TEST DRIVE MEME

draco | dragonheart | @ anywhere that isn't a city basically

omg

surprise, it's sean connery.

all eloquence perishes in the presence of sean connery

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oh gosh hope this is okay!!

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