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

[winginit]

[ And of course, as is his custom, he points it out. ]

Now who's stretching the truth?

[ He quirks a brow. He wasn't the one hunted down by those soldiers, the biggest human threat to his health and well being were farmers, and the occasional bored child. He had to suffer that disgusting appearance to bring her enemies to her, and it's not a service he's like to forget or forgive anytime soon. ]

[curser]

Oh, don't be silly. If you'd taken the time to actually play around in it, I'm sure you would have liked the form. A wolf is not a dog, after all.

[Tomayto tomahto... But she was grinning as she leaned against the tree, cradled between two branches and playing idly with a leaf.]

[winginit]

I would never like being a filthy stinking dog!

[ His face turns into perfect picture of outrage at the very notion. The very thought is enough to make his skin crawl. Must be the flees. ]

Or any other creature that relates to it in any way, they're all vicious, vile creatures who kill birds for joy and praise -

[ And the rant won't really end on its own ]

[curser]

[There's a chuckle and a roll of her eyes before gold tendrils curl around him and his ramblings are cut short and changed into caws and squawks.]

I can't tell if it's prejudice or envy that spurs you on.

[winginit]

[ The indignant squawk she gets in reply is appalled by the very mention of the notion that he may be envious of creature as inferior as a dog. Were they at the moors, he would fly away for a time. Not too far as to be out of range should she need him, but far enough to make his anger known.

But they are not, and they have more important things to do. So he settles on squawking angrily, and settles on her shoulder. ]

[curser]

[She laughs at the outrage she can see in his little birdie face, moving to drop down to the forest floor with him settled on her shoulder.]

At least I'll have amusement while I'm here with you around.

[She began to walk, not ready to take to the air yet. She needed no staff to help her in this, wings keeping her balance as it should be.]

There are larger ones here, you know. Wolves. As large as ponies.

[winginit]

[ Amusement. If she means to frighten him for the sake of it well -- then she did, but he's not about to give her the satisfaction of seeing it. He cows, but stays on her shoulder -- purely because he's tired of his long flight, of course! -- and looks about them nervously.

So long as he's with her, he knows wolves are no concern, regardless of their size. But what's he to do when he's on his own? ]

[curser]

[Perhaps he won't be on his own here often. It might be for the best, since this isn't their world and even she doesn't know what rules these fair folk play by.

Still, she doesn't hurry as she walks, taking the time to get to know the woods. Each tree has its own personality and she's curious if there are tree folk here like there are back home. A hand rests on the trunk of one large ash tree and she smiles at the feeling of peaceful slumber she gets from it.]

These woods are very old.

[winginit]

[ He quirks his head at her and cows, probing for information that may be of use in their search - for their queen and the exit. The woods seem calm for the time being, but the first rustling noise has him flying up to one of the branches for a better vantage point.

No pony sized wolves come out, though. Just a rabbit. ]

[curser]

Diaval...

[She gives him a look, one that tells him she thinks he's being the epitome of ridiculous.]

Do you really think I would let you come to harm? Here, of all places? Have I not kept you safe all these years?

[winginit]

[ Kept safe is not exactly what he'd call it, when he's followed her into battle, but yes, she has protected him. And he her. It's not just himself he fears for - if he did, he would have perched much higher. But higher the tree itself would block his view of what dangers may approach on the ground, and if he cannot see, how can he warn her?

He squawks again, flapping his wings in place, his only means of conveying his meaning. He may not be a very formidable guard in his real form, but he can keep watch. ]

[curser]

Yes, yes, you're quite fearsome. I'm certain the large wolves will be quite impressed.

[She lets herself be amused because it's a welcome distraction from the worry. If Aurora is here, she needs to find her. If she is not... she wants to be able to trust that those in the moors would keep the girl safe, but after witnessing the three pixies utter lack of skill in regards to keeping her hale, Maleficent has doubts. What the fair folk need when young is decidedly different than what a human child needs, though Aurora is hardly a young babe headed off the cliffs anymore. Still, Maleficent has a mother's worry over her and it bothers her to be separated like this.

Diaval, as always, provides a welcome distraction.]

[winginit]

[ He cows in a huff, and flies away - to perch on a slightly higher branch of a different tree. He can't really leave her, even when all she does is mock him.

He worries for Aurora as well, but his mind is more concerned with the dangers that may be lurking in this unfamiliar environment at the moment. She has magic to deal with whatever comes at her in their own realm, he knows. But what of whatever comes at her here? And he's got no magic to call his own, no way of helping unless he's transformed into something of use. He used to be satisfied in his body, he reveled in it, loved it. Now it never feels like quite enough, while any other form never feels quite right. What 16 years of transformations can do to a bird.

He watches her from his perch, curious to see what she'll do and discover next, his indignity already slipping out of his mind. ]

[curser]

[Such is the blessing of birds. They rarely hold onto anything longer than the moment. She kept walking, finding life here that was similar and different than in the moors. Pixies were certainly different here than the disproportionate ones from home, and the fairies seemed to be their own subset. There were birds and woodland creatures she was familiar with, but also ones she wasn't. There was magic here, deep and old and she wanted to run her fingers through the stream of it. Caution taught her better, but she still wanted.]

Did they give you your own room here as well? I could see you in one of those beds, sleeping till well past midday.

[winginit]

[ He skips forward after her, as far as the branch allows him, before taking wing again to a tree a small ways ahead of the path she seems to be following.

He didn't wait for a room, or a bed. He has no need for either of those, he's slept in a tree his entire life. He has no desire to surrender himself to a cage, no matter how large it may be. What he needed was to find his mistress.

And he does not oversleep! Squawking! Honestly, sometimes he wonders why he isn't wondering why he's so desperate to return to her side. ]

[curser]

[She knows that affronted squawk as well as she knows any of his sounds and she laughs. Ah, so easily ruffled was her Diaval. It's what made him so entertaining.]

Don't think I haven't seen you nodding off before. Perhaps it's you showing your age, mm?

[winginit]

[ His age! As if anyone performing the variety of duties she assigns to him wouldn't need a bit of rest wherever they can get it! Fly to another kingdom, Diaval. Find me this, Diaval. Fetch me that, Diaval. Take on an entire army, Diaval.

He gives her a piercing look that is all disapproval, or as much of it as his bird face can let show. He has to admit, there are some things a human form is better suited for.

His age showing! He's as sharp as he was the day they met! ]

[curser]

[Birds were so blessedly unexpressive. Not like humans with their pouts and sulks and wrinkled noses, all of which she'd seen from him. Along with arched brows and looks of judgement at every little thing she did to keep herself sane. Teasing the pixies had relieved quite a bit of stress. That he couldn't see that was quite the pity.]

Well, you're hardly a fledgling anymore, are you?

[Not that she'd let him die from his age any time soon.]

[winginit]

[ More than the notion of aging and dying, what he hates is the implication that he's growing out of use. For 16 years he has been her constant companion, he has done everything she asked, and some things she didn't. He gave her his opinions and although she would sometimes transform him mid sentence, he knows his words mattered, they were considered. He helped her believe.

But it isn't that, it's simply that his life has grown more tiring of late. His duties involve much more than caring for and playing with a child these days - suddenly he had to transform into a horse and run, to soon after be transformed into a dragon and fight, and then back into a bird to fly home, all in the span of a day. Can it really be surprising he requires a little extra rest?

He isn't ready to be too old. There are too many things left unsaid, undone between them for him to be too old.

So he flies back to her shoulder, and gives the fabric about her neck a small displeased tug. He may not be a fledgling, but neither is she. ]

[curser]

[She is not ready to lose him either, having only just found that bit of peace that she hoped to enjoy for at least a little longer. She might not need him as her wings anymore, but she would always need him. He'd seen her at her worst, after all, and he was still here. Still able to open beak or mouth to talk back or point out the error of her ways. Not many would and she knew, fledgling or not, that she needed that.]

You do realize that the lifespan of a fairy is not that of a human. Or a raven, for that matter. I'll be around long after Aurora has had her children and they have had theirs and so on.

[Which is likely why she'd been so easily twisted by hurt and anger, being as young as she had been.]

But I think I'll keep you around a bit longer. At least until I find something bigger.

[Ah, that was a tease and he should recognize it as such.]

[winginit]

[ He doesn't often think of it, but he does realize it. The ravens he knew before their time together began are gone, as he too should be if it weren't for her magic. He's simply come to accept that he will remain so long as she does. It was never spoken of but then again - so many things in their relationship go unsaid, and not only because most of the time he's unable to speak.

He knows it to be a tease, if she's in want of something bigger she needs only turn him into the shape of her choice, and has done so whenever the need arose. So he simply quirks his head at her. ]

[curser]

I've heard there are dragons here. True ones. I've flown with one, though it certainly wasn't as large as you were in your form.

[The Raven-dragon he'd been, huge and fire breathing and still feathered and beaked. She could likely make it so he was truly one form or the other, but she preferred to let him keep a little of himself, if only to make the transition less disorienting. His human form was the only one that didn't retain feathers or beak and it was probably better that way.]

[winginit]

[ He certainly appreciates those little gestures. While he's mostly gotten used to being transformed with no warning, it's still nice to have something familiar to hold onto in a strange body, particularly when it's his first time wearing it.

The news of real dragons is not as horrifying as that of the wolves, but it's still not exactly welcome either. He's never thrilled about sharing the sky with anything like to eat him, particularly something that can cook and eat him in one fell swoop. There is, however, a swell of pride evident by a little puffing of the chest at the fact that he has made a more magnificent dragon, even if he had nothing to do with the transformation itself.

It's also bringing the point that he is whatever larger being she can ever desire further home. ]

[curser]

[A finger stroked through the ruff of feathers around his neck, smoothing them after letting her nail slide through to tickle at his skin.]

I am glad you are here, Diaval. If she's here, I'll need the extra eyes to keep on her. If she is not...

[Well, she'd hardly admit that she might be lonely without him.]

[winginit]

[ That she admits that much, is a very pleasant surprise, and he rubs his head against her cheek, in a gesture of affection and encouragement. He'll be here, for good and bad. ]