TEST DRIVE MEME #4

[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

[smithwork]

... And is this a Scottish thing, or —? Never mind. Uh. [ What do you say to that??? ] But you tried to change her anyway.

[ WHERE'S THE RESPONSIBILITY FALLING, MERIDA. ]

Would you have been happier if she'd agreed to everything you wanted, forever? How is this any worse than asking for that?

[notyetlegend]

I wanted her to change her mind, not her body.

[YOU PROBABLY SHOULD'VE SPECIFIED THAT WITH THE WITCH, MER. She lets out a small huff, crossing her arms as some hair is blown from her face. In a quieter voice, she adds.]

I would've liked a little more time. Just because I'm uncomfortable with the idea now doesn't mean I wouldn't have been in a couple of years. She could've listened. [There's a defeated sigh as she runs her fingers through her hair.] I don't know.

[smithwork]

Oh, well, that's just fine then. Only her mind.

[ Have a really narrow look here, because do you hear yourself, woman. ]

Look, what's done is done. The important thing is ... that you change your mom back from being a bear, and talk things through. If she was so insistent, don't you think she only wanted the best for you? You could have —

[ Hit with a wave of deja vu, prickles run up the back of his neck. That morning I woke up and Dad tried to talk to me about becoming chief, and I left behind his back. Quieter after a pause, he finishes up his thought. ]

You could have tried to tell her how upset you really were, instead of running away, because she cared about you. She would have listened to that.

[ Hiccup rises off the table to turn and find the jug of ale being passed around, abruptly wanting a refill. ]

[notyetlegend]

What do you think I was trying to do before I got dragged here in th' first place?

[Her tone might come off as clipped and slightly snappy, but that's only because she's worried about her mother. We only had another sunrise left an' she would've been a demon bear like Mor'du. Merida wrings her fingers, tempted to run off and search the area for her mother again. Or would she have been taken by the Seelie? If she was here at all.

She does pause, though, when he mentions her running away. She never mentioned that to him, but he's close enough to her in age that he probably understands how she feels. How could I have talked to her after she threw my bow into the fire?]

I tried. I protested th' marriage, I tried to get her to listen to me but she just didn't... [Didn't care. I called her a beast and turned her into one.] She's too wrapped up in tradition to understand.

[smithwork]

[ His laughter isn't amused, but it still bubbles up all the same as he pours his fourth drink. The carousing at his back from everyone else is a dull noise like the throbbing at his temple. ]

She would have listened, Merida, maybe after you'd both cooled off a little, but still. Trust me.

[notyetlegend]

I know. Trust me, I know.

[It had been a spur of the moment decision at the witch's cottage, the tale her mother had told her over and over again of the will o the wisps making her firmly believe they had been leading her to a solution. She reaches for her own mug of ale, downing the rest and wiping the back of her hand across her mouth as she handed it to him for a refill.]

So what's th' deal with this dragon o' yers? Huntin' him down?

[SUDDEN TOPIC SWITCH GO. She doesn't want to talk about this anymore.]

[smithwork]

Hunting? No.

[ Roused out of his more morose thoughts, he finds himself wading through some rather less (but still sombre) miserable ones as he tops up Merida's mug. ]

Toothless is my dragon, I ... lost him, before the imps dragged me here. He's in danger.

[ And if he gets hurt, that'll be on my head too. ]

[notyetlegend]

[She steals some food off a nearby table as he refills her mug, tossing him an apple when he's done as thanks as she listens. Her face softens, thinking to herself I guess Scots and vikings are more alike than we think.]

I guess someone we both care about is in danger. [She bites into her apple, retaking her reclining position against their table.] I'll keep an eye out. Does he really not have any teeth?

[A somewhat more cheerful subject change.]

[smithwork]

[ Fumbling to catch the apple, he clutches it to his chestplate. His bite of it wakes him up slightly from an increasingly ale-soaked haze, realising he hasn't eaten anything since before the Battle of the Bewilderbeast. How many days ago was that? One or two? It feels like a hundred years ago. ]

He does, they're retractable. The name just sort of stuck after we first met. He has a missing tail-fin too from where I shot him down, I made the replacement from red leather so you can't miss it.

[notyetlegend]

Oh! Well that makes sense then. I was going to say, a toothless dragon doesn't sound that terrifyin'.

[She herself hasn't eaten since playing in the river with her mum, and even then that was cut short because of her mother being taken over by the bear's instincts, due to stories about eating in the company of faeries. Her own hazy ale-induced state is woken with food, her stomach growling as she takes another bite, raising an eyebrow.]

Ye made friends with th' beast ye shot down? [There's a first, even among Scots.] Right. Red leather fin an' retractable teeth. You two certainly are a pair.

[smithwork]

Heh. [ Hiccup rubs his upper lip and sinks into a comfier slouch. They could probably find chairs but this is somehow more fitting. ] Berkians used to have this tradition — [ ~~~tradition, Merida ] — where in order to prove your worth, you had to kill a dragon. I shot down Toothless out of sheer dumb luck, more than anything, and I was going to cut out his heart and ... and give it to my father.

But I couldn't do it. He looked terrified, I was terrified, so I let him go. [ That prompts a small smile; that was the best decision he's ever made in his life. ] I'd sliced off half his tail with the netting and he couldn't fly. It seemed ... right, to find a way to help him get back in the air, after that.

And then we sort of ... [ SHRUGS. Became best ever friends!!! ] Yeah.

[notyetlegend]

[Oi vey. Tradition. She gets that. Merida takes a chug of her ale to down her next bite of apple, nodding in some sympathy.]

Well, for what it's worth I'm glad you didn't kill him. [EVEN IF SHE HASN'T MET HIM, she knows she could would have done the same if it was Angus. Or her mother in full bear mode. That thought gets shoved into the back of her head.] It takes guts to step away from tradition.

[Says the one who defied tradition in order to not be married. Then again, she gets the feeling he might've been a wee lad, given what he said about coming into the world early.]

What were you goin' to do with his heart anyway? Do ye have some kind of dragon haggis over your way?

[smithwork]

[ He'll skimp on feeling too good about her views on tradition, given she changed her mom into a bear, but take the flattery all the same. ]

What's haggis?

[ Important details. ]

[notyetlegend]

Innards boiled in stomach lining. Usually sheep.

[Said entirely without skipping a beat.]

[smithwork]

[ Did he just throw up a little into his ale? Almost. ]

That ... That sounds very appetising.

[notyetlegend]

Aye, it is. Nutritious. Or so they say, my brothers don't tend to think so.

[How do you know you don't like it if you won't try it? Throwing her mother's words back at her seemed like forever ago. She notices the look on his face and laughs.]

An' neither do you by th' looks of ye.

[smithwork]

Oh, no, not at all, it sounds like something my — [ faltering for a moment, he glances down to his apple, ] — my dad would eat.

[ Would have. The apple crunches loudly as he takes a large bite, swallowing it along with a rise of emotion he doesn't want to deal with.

Lightly, he offers, ] We have this new tradition, it's called yaknog and, Thor knows, you'd probably love it. We drink it at Snoggletog.

[notyetlegend]

[Pauuuuse.]

What in Brighid's name is a Snoggletog?

[smithwork]

Snoggletog is the last festival we hold before winter nights set in. It's sort of a 'hurray, we have enough food' and 'oh, crap, no sun for a month' thing.

[notyetlegend]

Oh! You mean like Yule? We have that too. More 'hurray, we have enough food' and less 'oh crap, no sun for a month' though.

[smithwork]

[ It's fascinating meeting someone from a completely different country, almost as much as classifying a new dragon. ]

So you're not familiar with Snoggletog or any of the other Viking holidays, I'm guessing. Valhalla doesn't ring any bells?

[ That's one crazy life, Mer. ]