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!

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THROWS A TANTRUM i hate html oh my god

[galahads]

I was in London. There are none too many sheep and cows for Fair Folk to knock about with. ( a beat and a sideways glance at her. ) Or Welshmen. It's a rather lonely existence. ( it doesn't answer her questions, he knows, and he's quiet for a moment whilst he thinks about how he ought to. all in the court were now, evidently, aware of the reality of fair folk, of creatures even that mundanes wouldn't think to consider fair folk. he presses his lips together tightly, momentarily, and then laughs, the noise punctuated by the shake of his head. perhaps a bending of the truth— )

I followed one. ( a shrug; eavesdropping and making his way round the party, forcing oneself into private and not-so-private conversations has its uses. that this one is proving to be less than fruitful is neither here nor there — it was bound to happen eventually, after all. ) We all did, or else we were dragged. Fair Folk have little interest in manners past obtaining what they want. ( there's a ghost of a smile at that; he can imagine it being thrown straight back at him — by tessa, by jem, by charlotte, or even by jessamine. before continuing, though, he yawns — what he wouldn't give for a bed — and waves a hand disinterestedly an vaguely at their surroundings. ) I've the gift of Sight. ( an easy excuse for a degree of familiarity with downworlders, and nothing more than a simplification of the truth — detailing her as to the nature of shadowhunters, of downworlders and of mundanes, having then to discuss inevitable questions and how and why— even if it were allowed, it's nothing he wants to get into. for a moment, he's glad he'd made sure, earlier in the night, that he removed the daggers attached to the belt on his trousers and tucked them, sheath and all, on the inside of his trousers, before untucking his shirt. advertising that one had weapons, he thought, was bound to go disastrously wrong at some point during the festivities — and it was a means to avoiding unwanted questions. )

You'd be surprised at what pours your drink when you're really looking, and— ( a touch mournfully, ) —how many attractive young women are just Fey in disguise hoping to lure a hapless young Welshman off the beaten tracks and into the land of fairy. ( a pause and a sigh. ) I can hardly blame them, of course, but I'd rather be asked before being recruited into a war. I'm quite busy, you know: I'd intended on spending the 'morrow sleeping until past noon, pestering the kitchen servants for a truly delicious breakfast in spite of the hour passing and ensuring it was to be nothing with potatoes. ( he lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper: ) The cook's Irish, you see.

HAHAH it's okay omg

[hexuality]

[ The last bit catches her off-guard, enough that a startled laugh escapes before she can curb it with the vague annoyance she'd been feeling since he approached her. Ginny bites down on her bottom lip and glances away, ears burning, and she brushes past the candor of his afternoon plans and latches onto the real conversation, the fact they're all here: being recruited into a war. That's the hardest thing of all to swallow here, the idea that they're being so grandly welcomed and expected to—what? Feel like comrades with their captors? Enough to fight for them, never mind that the truth lies in whether or not they can return home?

Maybe she really did get knocked out by a garden gnome. ]

You said you've got the gift of Sight? [ Which carries a different meaning at home. ] Personally, I don't know how much good seeing the future will do you here. Predict the outcome of this war, maybe. [ She pauses, eyes roaming the party in turn, her voice dropping. ] Though, I don't know if true Seers could ever... [ No one knew the extent of their war, the damage, the losses. Ginny exhales, visibly shaking off the malaise, resisting the urge to reach for her wand just to feel the comforting warmth of it against her palm. ] I'm done with wars. Maybe that doesn't make a difference, being here, but...

[ She shrugs, brushing a hand through her flaming hair, finally looking back at him. He still hasn't won her over, but they're all in this together—or something like it, right? ]

It's magic, isn't it. Beings and witches and things hiding in plain sight, that's what you're talking about? It's just what it is at home. It's seeing everything out in the open like this that's amazing.