TEST DRIVE MEME #5

[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

[aheartoffire]

[She bites her lips together gently to keep from laughing at him. It wouldn't be fair.]

'Glad rags' is 'nice clothes', bunny. And that's me being generous.

[depicted]

[This pouty bunny.] I don't know why you couldn't just say that.

[aheartoffire]

I did just say it. It's not my fault you don't know from nothing. [Her smile hopefully makes it clear that isn't intended as an insult.] 'Jake' means everything's okay, 'berries' is like bees knees - it means something's ducky. [A pause.] Which mean's it's good.

[depicted]

[He mutters rather sulkily,] I do know from something.

Do you really want to look for clothing? You must be very—very certain of yourself to dress as boldly as you do. ['Boldly' was a hard work to pick.

YOUR CLOTHING IS VERY IMMODEST MISS.]

[aheartoffire]

[You adorable little old man.

That is what her face says. She can't help it.]

You're from the old century, kitten. It's not against the rules any more for a bird to show her gams - [She catches herself and clears her throat.] - for a girl to show her legs now and then.

[depicted]

[Well at least she is using real language now. But that doesn't actually help the adorable little old man.] I—I see. How—good? [Is that the word for it?]

[aheartoffire]

[She presses both hands over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.] Yes, it is.

[She leans in, not close enough to touch him, but close enough to seem conspiratorial.] You want a real surprise-avous, bunny? We can vote.

[depicted]

[His mouth falls open.] You can vote?

[BUT.

BUT.

BUT???????????????]

[aheartoffire]

[Her chin lifts, hostile defiance lighting her face. She kind of stepped into that one, but that doesn't mean she has to take it.]

Me the woman or me the Negro?

old timey racism let's go

[depicted]

[It comes out before he thinks about it.] You're more Negro than you are woman!

hooboy

[aheartoffire]

[She slaps him, hard, leaving a cut across one of his cheeks with the ring that Thomas gave her. That makes her feel good, seeing his blood on the diamond.] I'm more woman than you'll ever get.

[depicted]

[He is shocked by the physical violence, from a woman, from a Negro—he clasps a hand to his cheek and his fingers slip in blood.] You—why?

[And as his fingers fall from his face, anyone would forgiven for thinking the cut has been hidden by the smearing blood.]

[aheartoffire]

Because I am a woman, and a Negro, and a person, Dorian Gray. All of those words mean the same thing to me. [She puts her hands on his hips, head high, ignoring whatever spots of blood the ring will transfer to her dress.] Did that hurt?

[depicted]

Of course it did! But why did you hit me? [WHAT DID HE DO WRONG? His eyes tear up. He's a big wuss, but it's more the shock than anything. He rubs at his eyes reflexively, which also does him the favour of getting more blood off of his skin.]

[aheartoffire]

Why do you think. [Dear God, this kid. She's staring at him like she can't quite fathom him. She pinches her lips together.] Did it shock you? Did it make you feel scared and small?

[depicted]

It hurt! [He rubs at his cheek again, all sulks now.] You haven't the claim to me that gives you a right to strike me.

[aheartoffire]

[She pokes him in the chest.] You don't get to talk to me like I'm worth less than you. You don't have any claim on me at all. You think being slapped hurts? You-

[And then she sees his cheek.] You're healed.

[depicted]

[This obviously confuses Dorian.] What?

[aheartoffire]

Your cheek. [She lifts her hand to touch her own cheek, in the spot where she struck him.] The cut's gone.

[She feels light-headed. There's no way, no way, Thomas said people like them were rare.]

[depicted]

It can't be. You must not be seeing it. [He touches his face, but he can feel nothing.] Do you have a glass?

[aheartoffire]

A mirror? [She digs in her bag, pulling out a little mirror and holding it out. Her hands are shaking.] I'm not a liar and I'm not blind. Your cheek is fine.

[depicted]

[He takes it and holds it up to himself. There are still smears of blood, so he wipes them away. But there is nothing. He tries again, falling to indignity by licking his palm to clear the skin. But there isn't anything at all.] That isn't possible. I was bleeding. I saw the blood. [He stares at her.] You saw the blood. I was bleeding.

[aheartoffire]

[She twists her hands together, heart pounding. Could he not know? How could he not know?]

You haven't... Have you been in an accident lately? Been sick?

[depicted]

No, no, I have been in the very image of health. [He doesn't understand the question at all and attempts] Is there some kind of disease that can do this?

[aheartoffire]

No - I mean, I don't think so. [She holds out her hand for the mirror, annoyed at her trembling fingers for giving her feelings away.] It's magic.