fairynuff | TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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TEST DRIVE MEME #5

TEST DRIVE MEME

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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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( depending on whom one asks, she is either elizabeth of york, princess of england and ireland. or elysabeth, no surname, daughter of no one. a bastard, lower even than the grubbiest peasant. the disparity is staggering, and yet how she has been treated has varied wildly along with her uncle's changing political situation. the nobles who had supported him have begun to doubt; and now, of late there has been a "prince" across the sea who has vowed to marry her. suddenly, she has become important again. and she feels it, with the grand spread of a feast before her and the music playing in the background.

this is familiar territory; and a very welcome change from the cold stone walls of sanctuary. so when a man seated near her dares to complain about the festivities, she can do no other than raise a brow in curiosity. )

I have heard much worse than he. ( her features smooth out, and she smiles warmly. ) By all accounts, we are being welcomed quite grandly, my lord.

His pitch is not terrible enough to be akin to the wailing which accompanies a funeral dirge.

[Richard shakes his head, reaching for a vessel on the table and pouring himself more wine, not bothering to wait for a page to come round and serve him. He isn't drunk at the moment and has no plans to reach that point before the night is out, but the wine he has drunk has loosened his tongue somewhat. Talking to a woman about music is easy and inconsequential. Years spent in his mother's court have made him as adept at princely niceties as he is at warfare and he slips easily into that courtly role now.]

It isn't the pitch, lady. Listen to the tone, the beat. [He leaves a pause to do so, the fingers of his battle scarred hand marking the beat upon the tabletop.] Do you hear it? Dull and slow, like monks chanting at a funeral. His song has no blood in it.

( not since the days of her father's reign has she heard a man voice such a critique of music. it harkens one back to another time, a better time. and elizabeth can feel herself ease as a result. to find something else familiar in an otherwise unknown place is a grand thing. as he takes on the part of a prince, so does she that of the princess.

the corners of her mouth curve upward in a smile of mild amusement and charming affability. )

Perhaps he could do with some further study to hone his art. ( also, she could play circles around this minstrel. but she won't be so forthcoming with a stranger. ) However, I do find beauty in such chants as you describe.

I will own that they are not fitting for such an occasion. Shall I request that he play a different tune?

Dirges for the dead have their place, but not here. If you request a new tune I don't see how he can refuse.

[Richard continues with courtliness for now, taking the part his mother's court of love taught him. It is an easy role to play, especially against a partner who is apparently equally adept at playing the role ascribed to her. Altogether the entire exercise may amount to nothing more than meaningless pleasantries, yet they are amusing ones all the same.]

A feast like this needs music that suits it, music that is alive. Don't you agree, lady?

Agreed! I have heard far too many of those for comfort in recent memory.

( and she is true to her word! gracefully, elizabeth slides out of her seat and wanders over to the minstrel, chatting politely with any she passes to not seem as though to be singling out the poor minstrel. in time, she reaches his side and plays her part well, smiling and laughing as she requests a livelier tune. while it is not one she knows, she expresses her gratitude with one last smile before returning to her place at the table.

her eyes are dancing merrily with her triumph. )

I do. And do you know, so does dancing. ( if he is willing. her mother is not present to chide her for her boldness, and so she continues. ) May I have your name, my lord?

Richard, son of Henry the king. [They aren't too hot on surnames at his period, but if pressed he will easily and anachronistically claim the name Plantagenet. Until then there might have to be some amount of guessing, though the fact that his clothing is three hundred years out of date might help to narrow it down a little.

He rises, bowing gracefully to her in a way that must nonetheless seem horribly antiquated to modern, fifteenth century eyes.]

And may I know yours in return?

( well now! even were she not well-schooled in the genealogy of her family, she would recognize that name and parentage. he is a legend, even if he is as famous for disliking their country as he is for his valour in crusade. but is it possible? either the faeries have taken the time to weave an illusion even more impressive than this court, or he is telling the truth. and she can read well enough that he is.

still, it is with a sense of quiet awe that she stands and returns his bow with a low curtsy of her own. he has described himself as a prince, not a king—and she has gauged the required depth of her gesture well. when she rises, her blue-grey eyes are wide with curiosity and and something else. hope, perhaps. she has lost so many members of her family of late that she will not say no to the gain of a relation in this place. )

It is an honour, your highness. We are well-met, indeed. I am Elizabeth Plantagenet, daughter of His Grace, King Edward.

[Unlike his mother and Geoffrey, (the full brother, not the bastard one) and even his father, Richard is not apt to leave one with an overwhelming impression of intelligence. They flash their brains proudly for all to see, plots and machinations displayed like battle trophies. Meanwhile Richard can keep it hidden and unremarked on under chivalry and siege engines and other easily passed over, purely physical things. Likewise he can bridge the gaps between what she says and what that means to him, then place the information aside to be dealt with later instead of worrying after it like a dog with a bone.

He can only imagine the interrogation that Eleanor would put the girl to.]

Would you dance with me, Elizabeth Plantagenet? [He offers her his hand, smiling as he remains as courtly and unruffled as before.] And then you might tell me more of your family.

( likewise, her mother has ever been wont to advise her father, to plot and plan far more openly than she should. elizabeth understands what she feels her mother does not: that one must have both a public face as well as a private one. many believe her to be simply vain and frivolous, which is quite fine by her opinion. none will know what she thinks, and that is comfort enough. to say the least, his command of a very similar tack is impressive.

she responds well to it, not missing a beat when she takes his hand hand so that he might lead her out on to the floor. )

It will be my pleasure to. ( they might both be playing the roles they've been given by birth, but her smile is genuine. all may know she is happy. ) And gladly, if you will do me the honour of regaling me of your own in return.

Edited (I am heading to bed now and will be back later!) 2014-11-11 10:30 (UTC)

Ah, but surely there are more pleasant things we could speak of than that. [He leads her to the section of the hall reserved solely for dancing, confident that despite the differences in time between them they will still be able to dance together without incident. Most of the confidence, true, is in his own skill, but she seems a capable and adaptable girl in her own right.]

Poisonous vipers. Packs of wild dogs, perhaps. Wolves tearing one another to pieces.

[The mask doesn't slip for a moment. Even his smile resists the temptation to turn into a rueful smirk. He might as well be commenting on the weather.]

Surely your own family is far more worthy of note, filled with brave ladies and noble ancestors.

Edited 2014-11-11 15:46 (UTC)

Perhaps; we have spoken of music and dancing, but what of the written word? I, myself and rather fond of verse. ( she even writes it on occasion. though she happens to think her skill with dancing far surpasses any writing talent she has, and it shows as she gracefully mirrors his movements once they are out on the floor. from time to time, she adds a gesture or step which will seem out-of-place to him, but overall the experience is a delight.

even when they begin to speak of family, and the things he says strike home with a painful sort of clarity. instead of refuting his statement or looking aghast, elizabeth nods her head, as though unsurprised. because in truth, she is. )

My family is not so different, I fear. The country was embroiled in civil war for more than thirty years in which many were slain. There are only myself, my sisters and some cousins left.

( her expression of neutrality never budges to betray the sadness which lies beneath. instead, she smiles quietly. )

Though there are brave ladies and noble gallants among my family tree as surely as there are in yours. The tale of how my parents met and fell in love is legendary.

[From Richard's experience with his own parents, the fighting and feuds that come after a legendary romance can tend to tarnish it somewhat. But he holds his tongue. After all, he was taught the role he plays now in Eleanor's court of love and he has to at least humor the notion. ]

Some families breed civil war as farmers breed cattle. [No outright mention of just who that particular family is though.] It's in their blood. But it makes for poor conversation to accompany a dance. Tell me what you think of verse. Are you content to listen to the troubadours and trobairitz, or do you write it yourself?

( luckily for elizabeth, her parents had maintained a level of deep affection through their ups and downs and had never fought each other. but she does not mention the difficulties, as she herself far prefers to hold on to the warmer memories. they are all she has left. )

And then cultivate and perpetuate it until the harvest comes, and barely any remain thereafter. ( but such a topic is indeed morose, and her smile gains in warmth. ) Then it is the duty of their progeny to surmount it. I believe it might be done.

( she whirls easily and draws herself back, pressing their palms together, and taking him round in a joint step which demands focus of them both. all the while, her smile never falters. )

Both, as a matter of fact. I oft pen verse of my own when I have a moment, though it is hardly up to the standard of a professional. What of you?

[At first glance Richard seems like the sort of man to be more in his element on a battlefield than in the midst of a dance, but he moves expertly through the motions, matching her steps and not missing a beat.]

I scribble upon occasion. [A lie. Or at least a conscious downplaying of the truth. Poetry is one of his great passions and he writes and performs it at every chance that he can.] Men have said some of my attempts have merit.

( appearances can deceive, and she is quite impressed by his skill, though unsurprised. a prince must certainly be educated in such courtly manners. three hundred years separate them, but none would know it as they move and whirl together. )

May I have the honour of reading a sample of your work one day? ( she has also been raised in a glittering court full of music, finery and learning. for her, this is not at all unusual. ) I would allow you to be the judge of mine, as well.

( stepping around him, elizabeth presses their palms together. ) My father encouraged such pursuits so long as they did not interfere with my studies. He insisted my sisters and I be educated in all manner of things.

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TEST DRIVE MEME #5

wrong court, but.

Plantagenet party don't care about time/space/courts

This fam is too good for convention

they are the best/worst/best ...as long as no throne's up for grabs, then richard claims seniority

he's not henry tudor, so she can deal with that

go team family! (just ignore all the devil's blood & civil war stuff)

yes please let's ignore all that because this line is too good to destroy itself

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way to talk up the family there, richard...

It's not like she's doing much better!

at least they're honest

and charming as an added bonus!

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