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

[aliased]

[ not enough time has passed for the faces of those she loves to fade from memory. sansa's scream still haunts her dreams, cries out to her when she closes her eyes. her face isn't forgotten either. not yet.

and yet it takes a moment for arya, in the shadows, to recognize the girl who stands nearby. there is something familiar about her. she looks like mother whose hair could look shades darker in the dim light of winterfell's hallways at times. its when she realizes that its her sister that the air leaves her lungs and she feels her feet moving without her permission to stand in front of the girl.

arry the new boy stands before alayne the bastard girl. both were wolves in their past lives, wolves that were beaten down by circumstance, unjust as it can be. the little wolfgirl's eyes narrow as she looks up at the girl who is taller than she remembers, older too.]

S...Sansa?

[rube]

[the entire room is intoxicating and it leaves ben feeling confused and unsettled and scared, a nasty mix of emotions that he can feel bottle up in his gut and squeeze at his throat. a part of him wants a drink, something to quench his thirst, but he doesn't trust anything in the midst of the crowd, let alone whatever this -- the place itself -- is.

he's itching for a cigarette, and with his unsuccessful escapade around the hallways and never-ending amount of rooms, he still could not find answers, so he's back where he started. at some point, he's accidentally pulled into the crowd. he meant to stick to the walls, to watch things from a distance, but as more people arrive and clutter the place up, there really is nowhere else to go. too many people are brushing up against him already, and he hates it. he convinces himself that if he can just make it to the other side of the room, there will be more space.

and he's sort of right, because he can see a good spot for him to sit and watch the whole damned thing unfold, it's just a matter of getting there.

the overwhelming sensation of the whole place leave him somewhat clumsy, though, and he allows himself to be shoved by a panicked man looking for someone. he would have been fine if he could stumble without any real casualties, but ben being ben, he happens to stumble back into a woman(?) he thinks, anyway, of much smaller stature.

with a mumbled curse, he's hoping he doesn't bring them both down.]

[rube]

[the amount of panic that rushes through ben is remarkable. he's up so quickly he almost falls again, stumbling over himself as tries to make sure no one steps on the girl as he straightens himself. he licks his lips nervously, eyes darting to the people that ignore their issue and continue on with their business.

ben himself is a grubby looking young man, covered in dust and dirt with clothes that are plenty dirty, but he still holds his hand out to the girl, eyes apologetic.]

So sorry, miss. Didn't see you.

[his stance is awkward and stiff as he waits for her to take his hand, but from the looks of her, he's not so sure she'll accept his help.]

[rube]

[he winces just slightly as she takes his hand, but he's thankful for her forgiveness, offering a short nod in return as he hoists her back up onto her feet. the girl is so light that the motion is almost graceful, even if he withdrawals his hands so quickly it's as if she's burned him.]

Fine. Just fine.

[he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, watching the girl warily. he's not entirely sure if he should just leave her, but he may as well ask a few questions while he can, despite his discomfort.]

You ain't from the places these people are from, are you?

[rube]

[ben only asks because she's dressed differently. most of the people around them were dressed ... well, he isn't too sure how they were dressed. some were in clothes he's never seen before in his life. compared to him, they were wealthy and "futuristic".

now it's not only his eyes that show suspicion, but his entire face. he narrows his eyes at her before he concludes that she must be important somewhere, so he decides to go along with it.]

Ben Hawkins. [a beat,] Born of nowhere special.

[he's a little surprised that she's dipping her head to him, too. he's never been treated with much respect, and for it to be coming from a girl leaves him not knowing how to react. it must be normal for her.]

[wolfskin]

[ a wolf never does well inside a cage, a direwolf even less so.

where a wolf would thrash and snarl against the bars trapping it, robb remains calm. eerily so. he wears the mask of the lord, hiding his disquiet and distrust, refusing all food and drink for there is little that binds these people to the guest right of his lands. the food could be laced with poison, as too the drink.

so the feasting is ignored and the young wolf searches instead. searches for any who bare the familiar look or sound of westeros, searches for the faces of his family or friends. for his mother and sisters and little brothers, as selfish as such a hope feels.

it is her dress that draws his eye, simple yet familiar in the manner of it's making (for a second he thinks he sees someone familiar.) so he approaches, expression softening to prevent scaring the girl. it is likely she has been stolen from her home the same as robb, he does not wish to cause her more stress than she must already be suffering. ]

My lady. [ a simple greeting with a short bow of his head. robb may not be wearing his crown, but he is a king still and it shows in his mannerisms. ] I would ask you a question, if you would permit it.

[wolfskin]

[ she raises her head to look at him and robb's heart leaps into his throat. it has been so long since he has seen his sisters, but he has not forgotten their faces. in his memories they are smiling and laughing in the halls of winterfell. in his memories they are happy, all of them, with father and mother.

her hair is wrong, darker than it should be, but her eyes are still the same. those tully blue eyes that he shares. her brown hair turns to red in his eyes and he cannot shake it. robb's mask slips and shock decorates his lines, a shock and disbelief that it could be his sister standing before him. (how little he knows.) ]

San─ [ her name stumbles forth from his mouth, broken up out of fear should he speak it fully she shall disappear from his sight. he thinks he reach out and touch her, to calm the distress that shines so clearly in her eyes but he cannot lift his hands. ]

Is it─ Can it truly be you?

[ by the gods, he prays it is. by the old gods and the new, he hopes so selfishly that sansa is returned to him. ]

[wolfskin]

Alayne Stone? [ robb's brow furrows with both confusions and hurt. stone is a bastard name and his sister is everything but a bastard. she is of noble blood, the blood of winterfell, of the first men, of eddard and catelyn stark. what would possess her to take up the name of a bastard from the vale? ]

Why? [ he does not understand. ] Why do you beg me to call you what are you are not? Do you mean to say that you are not my sister?

[ his words are sharper than he intends and guilt wracks his stomach as they fall. there must be a reason, he knows that much, sansa would not deny herself unless there were a reason for it. providing it is indeed sansa who stands before him.

but it must be, as dark as her hair has become her face remains the same. only painted with grief instead of laughter. ]

[wolfskin]

[ she does not deny it. she does not deny being his sister and relief spreads throughout his chest, mixing with the confusion that has settled there.

for her protection she assume the name of a bastard, and that alone sends his mind into worry. what happened in king's landing that caused this? what have the lannisters done? ]

I swear. [ his fingers curl into fists, leather creaking at the pressure. he would embrace her now if he could. ] I swear I shall protect you, whatever the cost. [ as he should have done. as he was going to do. ]

[whereyoubegin]

[ Her stomach lurches nervously in this place, fear and excitement commingling in a tense knot. Kami holds her drink cupped between two hands like a toy ball, the cool glass a comfort pressed against her chest. Magic is real, there are strange women in the woods, so the existence of fairies doesn't shock her as much as it should. It's what they might want that sets her ill at ease, and the gnawing wonder in her mind at where they draw their power from.

When she catches the other girl's eyes from across the room, she makes a harried dash to approach her, desperate for some human company, something real.

Besides, she's never been one to let someone fade away if she can help it. ]

Do you mind if I sit - er, stand with you?

[whereyoubegin]

[ Kami smooths down her ruffled red skirt self-consciously, fiddles with the big bow-shaped buttons of her sweater. She smiles and sidles in next to the girl, keeping a polite space between them, and leans against the wall. ]

Hadn't even crossed my mind. The people here - they're beautiful but they all look a bit strange, you know? The ones that have human shapes look a little...off. You're pretty, but it's a normal kind of pretty.

[ She bites her lips and laughs. ] Sorry. Is that strange? I'm Kami, Kami Glass.

[whereyoubegin]

[ This time it's Kami's turn to blush; it's always nice to be complimented by someone prettier than she is. ]

Nice to meet you. I like your dress. It's very medieval chic.

[whereyoubegin]

You know, medieval, the Middle Ages, circa CE 600 to CE 1485. The time between the collapse of the Roman Empire and the ascension of Henry VII to the throne of England.

[ Kami flounders a bit hopelessly. How does anyone not know what "medieval" means - unless she's actually medieval herself, and not some kind of performer or revivalist who merely likes the aesthetic of stays and princess gowns. ]