fairynuff | TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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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[ For a moment, he isn't certain whether or not to take her claimed title seriously. Then again, such titles might as well be meaningless in this land — something he's had to learn for himself, the hard way. ]

I know of no man by the title of Lord Protector, nor does the state of Archadia recognize any empress by the name of Emily. But, if that is your wish...

[ There's no harm in it, after all, certainly none that he can see. He removes his helm and tucks it under the crook of his arm. ]

[Impatiently, she waits for the helmet to come off, brows lifted and face painfully curious. It's going to be Corvo. He's going to be playing a trick on her, and it's going to be him, and he's going to say, "Surprise, Emily!" and then they are going to go home together.

But it's not him.

Her expression falls the moment she sees Gabranth un-helmed — no offense to his looks.] No... you're not Corvo. [Slowly, her head tips down, eyes hidden below her lowered lashes. Her voice is quiet and sad.] I'm looking for him, for Corvo. He is the Lord Protector of-- [Falters.] --my mother... and me. [Carefully, she lifts her head.]

Have you seen him?

[ Well, that's a first. But it doesn't strike him as odd that she should be disappointed, particularly if she had (for whatever reason) been hoping to see someone else.

This place has no shortage of disappointments, after all, especially for the newly arrived. Gods know how furious he had been when he first found himself here, and he hadn't even been counting on finding any familiar faces himself. ]

I've not heard of any man by that name...and while I may have seen him, I would hardly know it with a name alone.

[ Hmm. ]

What does your Corvo look like?

[His interest rejuvenates the hope he had killed when he said he hadn't heard of Corvo. She opens her mouth, eager, then shuts it afterward. How does she describe Corvo to someone else from another place? Her eyes roam the floor thoughtfully.

If only she had something to draw with. A picture would be better.

Ah well.] He is--he's good. He's in trouble, but he didn't do it. They framed him, but I know he's innocent because I was there. He's still Lord Protector to me. [Her excitement begins to bubble quickly, and she forgets that Gabranth asked look and not anything else.] He's very quiet and [She twists her face to mimic Corvo, now using her hands conversationally.] is very serious, like this. But he's nice and polite and strong--

[Oh yes. Look. What does he look like.] He wears a dark, long jacket! And he has a strange mask, but he has to wear it so no one can find him because of what they think he did. The mask is scary, but you shouldn't be scared since it's just Corvo, and he's not bad.

[ Gabranth finds it curious, how quickly the girl jumps to this man's defense even when he has no prior knowledge of whatever crime he supposedly committed. His immediate reaction is one of skepticism; he knows too well, after all, just how easily the human eye can be fooled, and how easily the narrative surrounding any crime can be altered to suit one's needs.

But here, it is not his place to judge. He only listens instead, taking mental note of her description. ]

I see no reason why I would be scared, should he truly be so noble as you describe.

[ But "man in a long jacket with a strange mask" is...a little vague, at best. ]

Does he wear this mask at all times?

He is very noble. [Even with the scary mask. Even when he returns and sometimes smells like the coppery twinge of blood. Even when he will never speak when she mentions the man with black eyes from her dreams. Even then.]

Well, he takes it off when he comes back, when he's around people who know who he is. [It's only now she realizes her error: babbling about him to just anyone. But this man wasn't from here, right? So it's okay. Archadia isn't Dunwall, and this man is knightly, right? So it's okay.]

But he wears it all the time, yes.

[ He wonders, idly, just how noble such a man can remain while bearing the weight of a crime he supposedly did not commit.

But the subject is far too personal for him to wonder such things aloud. Besides, it's hardly relevant. ]

And what precisely does this mask look like? [ After a beat: ] Apart from scary, of course.

[It's a very complicated matter, Gabranth, but trust her on this! She is in all white, of course she is pure and innocent and full of truth. Completely.] It looks--

[Frowning, she begins looking around as if searching for something. There's nothing present but people, more people, food, and more food. She turns her eyes back up at Gabranth.] Do you have some paper and something that can write? I can draw it.

On my person, no.

[ He glances about the hall, mirroring the girl's own search. Not that he expects to find any differently; this part of the castle is hardly given to housing such implements even when it isn't crowded with feasts and revelry. ]

You'd do far better to ask one of the fairies, should they be in a mood to accommodate a shardbearer. 'Tis best to be mindful of them, however.

Yes! [Suddenly hopeful and excited, she completely skims over poor Gabranth's warning.] Stay right here. [Then she adds quickly:] By order of Empress Emily! [Like that really has some kind of monumental hold over the man.

Before she can hear his response, she turns and bolts through the crowd, sometimes having to squeeze past rather impolitely since she is small and unnoticeable.

The first fairy she sees gets an, "Excuse me!" then an immediate request. Of course, they have some laughs at her expense, and, being fairies, when they bring her what she asked for, it's not... exactly what she asked for actually. Parchment, yes, fine, but the other thing is a quill. No ink. She hadn't asked for ink, they remind her then fly off.

She returns to Gabranth through the crowd, shuffling slowly and looking childishly sullen, parchment in one hand and quill in the other.]

[ Though he can't hear the conversation from this distance, Gabranth can guess its result by the look on the girl's face. ]

The fairies are overly fond of their tricks. Begrudging them for it will gain you naught but further grief; rather, endeavor to take greater care with your words.

[Sound advice that she wishes she had taken earlier. Now she is left to lift the parchment and quill up, not knowing exactly what to do with the predicament.

Don't give up. That's what Corvo would probably tell her. He always knew how to make things better.

She looks up at Gabranth, and it's almost like his face gives her a hint. The beaked end of the quill lifts into her sight, then she quickly begins searching the surroundings like before. One of the tables has what she needs.] This way! I have an idea.

[The parchment and quill are moved together in one hold, and she uses the freed appendage to take Gabranth by the hand and begin leading him over to one of the tables littered with food. There, she clears her a small space for the parchment to lay.

The magic: she dips the quill into some nearby jam. It is thick enough and opaque enough to provide a good source of ink... if a little messy. The pictures begins and ends--after some time--looking like a crude, single, jammy version of this.]

What—

[ But she tugs him along before he can find the proper words to object. He thinks to question her, but by the time he finds the words for that, her aim becomes clear, and he can do little more than watch. ]

I see...

[ Of course; only a child could bear such ingenuity. He takes a careful look at the jammy illustration once it's finished, committing its strange shapes to memory as best he can. ]

[She seems proud of her artistic jamistry. It is finely crafted evidence of innovation.] It does look scary, but I promise he isn't mean. [Though he may possibly be part of the Unseelie. This doesn't even cross her mind. She's not exactly ignorant to Corvo's more extreme ways, but he doesn't seem bloodthristy when he returns. He doesn't seem frigid.

So she is comforted, and Corvo remains her idol.] If you see him, you'll tell me, right?

[ If he is a member of the Unseelie... Well. While he certainly has a keen eye for court politics, he can hardly be bothered to strictly adhere to any allegiances apart from those he's sworn to Archadia and House Solidor.

So, he gives her a nod. ]

You have my word.

[The promise makes her smile, and she looks relieved if only slightly. Corvo may not be here, but if Corvo happens to be here, she has one additional person that can let her know.

Carefully, she rolls up the parchment, then hands it to Gabranth. Nevermind that it will probably smear, and carrying around a parchment of jam isn't the more hygienic thing in the world.

The point is what Gabranth is going to do when it is offered.] This royal writ will help you remember what he looks like. [The way she tries to make her voice sound very official is evidence she is trying her best to, well, be official.]

What's your name, Judge Magister?

[ Some small part of him can't help but be charmed by the so-very-official nature of it all. Not that he has no intention of taking her request seriously, but...well, he's going to have to figure out something to do with the jammy parchment. For now, though, he (carefully) takes it in hand. ]

Gabranth. [ He pauses, considering her earlier declarations. ] Have I correctly assumed that you are an heiress of royal blood?

[ He can only assume as much, after all, from the way she'd called herself Empress Emily and the stately air she attempts to maintain. Of course, the possibility remains that she's merely pretending at such things, or that she's already assumed the throne — but the fairies do seem inclined to drawing in shardbearers of royal descent, in regards to the former, and she seems rather young for the latter.

Then again, she can't be much younger than Larsa... ]

Gabranth. [She says it so she will remember it. She won't forget. Judge Magister Gabranth, the man in the knightly armor.

The question sweeps any sort of mirth from her face. She doesn't look angry, or even upset, but perhaps... sad. Her eyes lower, followed by her head, and she scans the floor at their feet a few moments without speaking.] It's complicated.

My mother was Empress. She... [A short, but deep sigh.] She died. Someone murdered her. That's... why Corvo has to hide his face. Some people said he killed her, but he didn't. I was there when it happened. He was trying to help us. It wasn't him at all.

I would be Empress, but the murderer took me and gave me to the Pendletons. [She twirls the quill between both hands, frowning, not meeting Gabranth's eyes.] They kept me at the Golden Cat until Corvo came to get me. Corvo's friends were going to make me Empress, but it was a lie. They weren't good people at all, and they tricked us. They took me away again, but then I followed the fairies here.

[A pause.] I hope Corvo is okay.

[ That answer is rather different from what he was expecting.

Pendletons, Golden Cat... Neither of these names carry any significance for him, but the turns of the story they adorn are all too familiar to him. Were he a different sort of man — had he led a different sort of life, made different choices in his past — he might wish that a child so young should never have to witness such bloodshed.

But he is no man but himself — pitiless hound of the Solidors, and kingslayer of Dalmasca to boot — and so he knows too well that this is merely an inevitable toll for a life born in royalty.

Even so, he can't very easily set aside the regret that twinges at him for spoiling her good spirits. ]

My question stirred deeper waters than what I'd intended to tread. [ He bows his head. ] I can only apologize for such thoughtlessness.

[A moment or two passes, and then she lifts her head again. Gabranth's apology doesn't go unappreciated. She puts the quill down on the table, and then reaches out with both hands to take one of Gabranth's in her own, an attempt to gain his attention.] It's okay.

I will just work harder. [The formalities of being an Empress bore her to tears; the history, the etiquette, the rules. But taking on the mantle her mother wore, becoming a good Empress isn't something she takes so lightly.] I'll be strong, like Corvo, when I get back to Dunwall. I'll learn to fight, [A great future passion of hers.] and I'll go seafaring myself, and I'll help the people with the plague and try to find a cure. Maybe there's a cure here.

[Lightly, she squeezes his hand.] Thank you for helping me, Judge Magister Gabranth.

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TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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now I want Emily and Larsa cr

wehhhhh that would be so cute

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