test drive 02

[thestewards]

I know dust grows even when there is a breeze
Can't move, can't grow When you've fallen on your knees

► All TDM threads may be considered canon provided both parties agree and are accepted into the game.

► Canon threads may be redeemed for influence and reputation depending on how you solve the issue at hand or how you engage with the prompt. They also count toward AC.

► Feel free to switch up your character's Jewel from thread to thread. Get a feel for how a Birthright Jewel may limit or enhance your character's abilities.

HOT UNDER THE COLLARD GREENS
The relationship between the Blood and the landens has never been easy anywhere, least of all Draega, and even less so now that the Strangers have arrived. Between Blood and landen, opinions on the Strangers vary wildly. Some Blood believe the Strangers were landen in their original worlds and thus cannot possibly have anything to offer, but some landens think this means that the Strangers will be more sympathetic to them—or that landens could gain the power of the Blood one day, too. Then there are the landens who think the Strangers have sold their souls to Queen Fayura to gain the Jewels and the Blood who think the Strangers have embraced what it truly means to be Blood. Whatever that means.

Tensions are high, and they're highest on the main street of the Old Town Bazaar, where two restaurants have an on-going feud. The Last Meal is owned by a Blood family, none of whom wear a Jewel darker than Yellow. Across the street from them stands the mockingly named Blood and Breakfast, owned by a landen family.

To say these two hate each other would be something of an understatement.

On this particular morning, Lord Harle, the Yellow Jeweled owner and chef at The Last Meal, comes storming out of his front door. "You've done it now, Laney Cook! Soured all my milk!"

Simultaneously, Laney Cook, who is the owner and chef at Blood and Breakfast, comes stomping out the front door of her establishment, brandishing a wooden spoon like a sword. "Aye, and you've replaced all my sugar with salt, you ripe old bastard!"

Without missing a beat, both turn to you and the Stranger at your side. Wrong place, wrong time, friend. The two chefs decide the two of you can be trusted to help them prove the other party guilty of sabotage because neither of you has a stake in this. And, well, if the Queen brought you here, you should be an independent party. Both Harle and Cook seem to think the Queen is pretty okay.

Truthfully, they're both equally guilty. Lord Harle and Ms Cook have been trying to ruin each other for years, but who knows what you'll find when you go searching for evidence. And even if you find evidence that decides one way or the other, perhaps you'll simply lie and manufacture a solution that suits you—or the Queen who brought you here.


TERRIBLE TWO(HUNDRED)S
You're not entirely sure how this happened, but you're starting to understand why Blood females constantly grumble about the caste of males they call Warlord Princes. Prince Loren has, somehow, managed to maneuver you to the place you're at now: the head of a classroom full of Blood children who all look like they're somewhere between the ages of eight and ten. It's hard to tell, and you're pretty sure one bossy little boy declared he was 203-years-old, so everyone else has to listen to him, thanks.

Regardless of how Loren managed to get you there, there you stand. Fifteen energetic elementary school children all wearing Jewels shriek and shout, using Craft to amplify already shrill voices. One girl floats near the ceiling, her face screwed up in concentration as she clutches a Rose Jewel. Two little boys are taking turns passing their hands through their desks, which strikes you as distinctly unsafe for eight-year-olds to be doing. (You're not wrong.)

At least there are two of you, and you only need to babysit these children for the morning. "They're here for Craft lessons. Surely, you can manage until Lady Sheera arrives," Loren had said before abandoning you to a battlefield full of powerful, pint-sized children.

There's a lesson plan on the teacher's desk, but maybe you should lead with the snacks.


REVENGE, SERVED STINKY
The air is crisp and cool; it's still winter, but it's not as chilly as it has been, and so you're out for a walk. You've made your way north through Old Town and now find yourself meandering down the roads in front of the landen Guild Halls. Even though they're all made of red brick, each building is entirely unique. The Hunter and Crafter Hall, the largest of all the buildings, has more in common with a hunting lodge than the university building it once was. The Elektriline Hall might be the smallest building, but it's covered in neon lights and impossible to ignore.

Equally impossible to ignore is Master Tinker Mari and her collection of landen young adults. They're clustered around a storm drain. When Mari sees you, she detaches herself from the group of landen students and bounds over to you. "Ahhah! Stranger! You have been brought here against your will and are surely sympathetic to our cause!" she exclaims.

That doesn't make you feel too great since, you know, you're aware that the Hunter Guild tried to kill all the Strangers maybe two or three weeks ago. They may have mellowed out, or they may just be biding their time. Thankfully, none of Mari's students bear the markings of a Hunter.

She pulls you to the group. Already, canisters have been lowered into the sewers. A handful of students have clambered down after the canisters. "The Blood wouldn't help us repair the damage in Old Town," she says, rubbing her hands together. "Our people's homes were unlivable. So we're going to make their workplace unbearable." She points at the canisters. "Stink bombs."

There's another Stranger in the group, and you make eye contact over the top of the storm drain. Are you of the same mind as each other? As Mari? The choice is yours: agree to Mari's plan and fill the buildings of the Ebon Council with untenable stench or try to convince them there's a better way.


AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you're spinning the dial on your own device, you'll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren
[Evandra's voice is a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] Today we're talking about everyone's favorite subject.

[Aren's voice is chipper and bright. He sounds more like an eager boy than the full-grown man he is.] Food?

[A laugh from Evandra.] No, Lord Aren. Sex and flirting. Culturally, the Blood don't consider it rude to flirt quite blatantly with each other, even when one or both of the parties is married. Isn't that right?

[Aren:] That's exactly it, Evandra. Older males allow young witches to flirt because it's understood that the male isn't interested or available. He becomes a safe partner for her to practice on, and his approval lets her know what is and isn't acceptable.

[Evandra:] What does it mean if a married male or witch flirts with you?

[Aren:] Casual flirting means that witch or male thinks you're safe. It's their way of telling you they feel comfortable around you. Of course, it's always acceptable to ask them to step back! [He laughs.] As we all know, just because you can flirt with a Warlord Prince's lady doesn't mean you should!

[Evandra:] Let's take a look at casual flirtation between different Blood castes…

the weather
[A soft-spoken man's voice rumbles out of the Far-caster. He's pleasant to listen to, with a soothing cadence to his voice.] Warmer temperatures will see melting snow over the next week. Be careful around the Heartsblood River, as the heavy snows will result in flooding along the banks. Need flood insurance? The Transport Guild is looking to expand into…

the news
…amusing to hear that Grand Master Niall blames the Blood for the fires in Old Town. It is my understanding that members of the Blood, these so-called Strangers, went out of their way to rescue both Blood and landen during the fires set by the Grand Master's Hunter Guild. [The man speaking has a slow, clipped cadence to his voice. It's very posh and polished.]

[Another voice, presumably an interviewer:] The Council counts the Strangers as Blood, Lord Grejor?

[Grejor:] What else can they be? They wear the Jewels, therefore they are among our number. [He laughs, and the sound is cold.] The Council is pleased to welcome our new brothers and sisters.

Comments

Calvin Lee | Original Character | White Jewel

[yesterweek]

HOT UNDER THE COLLARD GREENS

[ This is not a situation that Calvin ever wants to find himself in. His way of dealing with conflict is to metaphorically roll over and show his belly to the other side, until they decide they're happy with his apology or find him too pathetic to keep being angry at. It works well for him, but it doesn't seem like that's going to work in this case, considering how headstrong both sides seem to be.

It also doesn't help that they ignored any weak protest he made about not being sure if he was the right person for the job, didn't let him pass the buck to the Stranger standing next to him, and have now stormed back into their own respective restaurants telling the two uninvolved newcomers to come inside their restaurant and have a look around.

This is his nightmare. ]

Uh....

AIR TIME

[ Listening to a news program about flirting isn't that embarrassing in and of itself. As weird as it is Calvin is pretty interested in what he's hearing and stops to listen for a bit--

Up until he remembers that he's out in public, and realizes that someone else is there witnessing him listening to this particular broadcast.

The slow flush begins to creep onto his face as he cuts the feed short. ]

No-- I wasn't-- I was just flipping through channels, and-- I mean...

[ He's making this more awkward than it needs to be. ]

collard greens.

[unwieldy]

[ Don't look at Haein, he wants no part of this.

Normally his response would be to shoot the two restaurants a disinterested glance, send the other Stranger a look someone might give to something unpleasant they stepped in, and went on his way, but the commotion has drawn the attention of onlookers.

And Haein suddenly finds that he can't just leave without people watching after him. Wow, he really needs to stop getting himself into situations like these. He'd at least passed off most of the responsibility the last time he'd been asked for help to his partner, but the guy next to him looks hopeless. There's no way... that he's going to have take charge this time... right?? ]

Come on.

[ Might as well at least get inside so people stop staring. He chooses a restaurant at random, starting with Blood and Breakfast. ]

air time

[shiftinglikeclay]

[Alex was just wandering by and happened to catch a bit of the broadcast himself. He's... less than impressed with it and would have continued walking but this guy's sudden embarrassment is too amusing to pass up]

Hey, chill. That's way too embarrassed to get over some heteronormative crap radio.

emil västerström | stand still stay silent

[illequipped]

I. terrible twos

[Now, Emil likes kids— honest, he does— but there's not a single demographic he can be put in front of a crowd of and expected to remain... composed? At all confident in what he's doing? It's not that he's intimidated by a bunch of children, but he may have already quietly decided the way a few of them are actually waiting expectantly for some kind of Craft lesson means they already hate him and think he's a stupid oaf.

Of course, they are, like, eight, so who's to say they don't think that already? But probably not.

Either way, at least he's not frozen in place, but he is at a complete loss for how to corral a whole room full of loud and rowdy children. He has little cousins, but they're a) only three in number and b) deeply enamored with how Cool their Cousin Emil is, so that experience is no help here.

He leans over, not taking his eyes off one particular child who is boring holes in his skull with her stare, to whisper to you, his partner and savior:]

I think we should let them spend some of this, uh, energy. Can you fake losing a fight?

[His little cousins are especially rowdy, for this to be his first and genuine suggestion—]

II. stink

[Truthfully, Emil is with the rebellious attitude up to a point. He could be madder about being here in this world, but it takes very little to get him indignantly riled up, and so he allows himself to be swept along for the ride, maybe mostly in it for the encouraging comments and the supposed support from these total strangers... He's enjoying being included in this thing, as questionable as it is, because honestly— well.

It seems... fairly harmless, from where he's standing? All they want to do is inconvenience people a little, and for what sounds like a good reason-! He is not very discerning.

But when their method turns out to be literal cans of stink, Emil's expression twists and he tries to swerve out of the group around the drain, only to be tugged back in by one of the landens. Why!!

His fated moment of eye contact is therefore both, ah, desperate, and kind of grossed out.]

This is completely stupid! [As he jerks his arm out of the grip of the young landen, he adds,] Don't grab me, I am not staying to ruin my clothes with this absolute filth you shoved in a bottle!

[And a very abrupt silence falls over the crowd... ah....... please help him.]

III. obligatory wildcard

[hello from this tiny webcomic rp fandom... still, hit me up with anything?! jewel is whatever for tdm but purple from rng]

kids...you know i had to

[ilves]

[ Lalli? A savior? Wow, but Emil's standards must be really, really low, because while Lalli hasn't run out of the room yet... well. Both hands are clamped firmly over his ears as he watches that floating girl bump right up against the ceiling. Is this hell...

But covering his ears can only do so much. He can still hear Emil's whispered suggestion, and of course it earns him an incredibly sharp look. Boy??]

Mrr.

[Translation: NO, but just in case there's any doubt, he forces himself to spit out a sentence that is both helpful and incredibly mature:]

You do it!

ii holds emil

[embracers]

[thank god for that fated moment of eye contact because Diana Understands, she understands completely!! Even if she also let herself get swept up in these schemes that doesn't mean she'll just go along with all of this, especially since Emil is shrieking loudly. She won't let Emil be forced into these!! irresponsible schemes!! so, in a clear voice to fill up that abrupt silence--]

I agree. [She gently pries a hand off her as she moves to Emil, positioning herself so that she's in between him and the bags of stink bombs...] Subterfuge is a feasible option, but if your intention is to improve your circumstances, then these schemes will only hurt your cause.

[also how will it help y'all!!!]

The best way would be... [uhhh, Diana flashbacks to her long repertoire of Amazon history to help her out.] To confront them head-on! How are duels of honor settled in this world? Now that is something the both of us would be happy to help with.

[She smiles at Emil! She's... HELPING!!]

ii

[shiftinglikeclay]

Whoa, no need to freak out!

[Alex gives the young landen a reassuring smile. If for no other reason than she doesn't want to give them a reason to target her with those stink bombs. ]

Clothes can be washed. [The 'you idiot' is unsaid, but very obvious in her tone]

Besides. A good prank can be fun.

Ren Suzugamori | Cardfight!! Vanguard | purple dusk but he's not being v honest about that

[thedarkbond]

[A: hot under the collard greens]

[Ren is the type to get lost at the best of times, so if he's supposed to be helping out here, he figures he should probably familiarise himself with the city a bit. His jewel is stowed out of sight for the moment - even if he were the type to wear that sort of thing on his sleeve, he's not in an elevated enough position for it to exactly be a good idea. While he's certainly not counting on that hiding to last, he'd at least prefer it to not be on the table while he's trying to dig himself into the city a little.

The sound of an argument breaks him from his thoughts briefly, and he comes back to attention(...ish, since Ren's not terribly attentive to most things at a glance) to the sight of two storeholders arguing in the middle of the street. It's kind of funny, but he hides that reaction for the moment, especially once the two chefs turn to him and whoever's unlucky enough to have been walking by him and decide they're getting recruited to resolve this spat.

With a somewhat airy smile, he looks over to the other Stranger and speaks in a light, somewhat absent tone.] Oh, I guess they're probably going to keep arguing if we leave...it might be fun to help out, right?

--

[B: revenge served stinky]

[The guild houses are interesting landmarks in this part of the city, and it doesn't take Ren long to gravitate to the area when he needs to find his way back somewhere. He isn't quite expecting to be flagged down by what appears to be one of the guildmasters, though - he's heard about what happened with the Hunter Guild, but this band looks a little wrong to be that kind of group. In that knowledge, Ren does end up wafting over to the storm drain with them to see exactly what's going on.

He's hard-pressed not to laugh a little when he does. It's pretty cliched, true...but it also sounds a lot like the Council deserves it after what happened, and there are far worse ways these people could be choosing to retaliate for that kind of callousness. One hand curled in front of his mouth as if he's thinking, Ren tilts his head innocently towards whoever's eye he's met across the drain.]

Mmm, what do you think? It does sound like they were a little rude to these people...

[He's not well-established enough yet to take the diplomatic option himself, so he's fine with the non-diplomatic option for now. That said, his tone is one of innocence, as if he's concerned about taking even petty revenge like this, even if honestly he'd be doing at least the same thing in their position.]

--

[C: air time - etiquette]

[It's at least cute that this world still has radio shows, and some...apparently rather interesting radio shows at that. Ren stumbles across the lengthy discussion on social flirtation while adjusting his own Far-caster, and it doesn't take him long to hop onto the text function to see how well that works.]

so they were talking on the radio about flirting being important in the society here...is that something i should be practicing...? unless the other strangers haven't been doing that sort of thing

can someone tell me more? i'm confused now :c

[Spoilers: he is mostly going to be trying not to laugh behind the figurative keyboard for this entire conversation, but it's probably fine.]

--

[D: wildcard]

[[Feel free to hit me up for other stuff at reviseleviathan!]]

collard greens!

[ilves]

[Two incredibly loud people ordering him to do different things? A fellow Stranger who seems willing to play along? This truly is Lalli's Nightmare Scenario™, which is why he huffs out a sigh as he glances over at his apparent partner. Does this sound fun—]

No. This is stupid.

[But with the number of people sticking around to see how this all turns out, running away isn't really an option... and there might just be a bit of free food waiting for him at the end of this, so! After a moment of clear hesitation, he points over to Blood and Breakfast.]

...I'll go there.

[And he's just going to, you know, set right off toward it, because teamwork? What is that? Feel free to tag along...]

diana | wonder woman

[embracers]

A; collard greens aka diana does her Best

[Diana is admittedly still green (haha gET it) when it comes to the intricacies between Blood and landen, but her help has been requested and hera help her she's here to do her best!! Which is why, after a brief moment of observation, Diana gives a single, decisive nod!!]

I understand. I know the best way to solve this.

[and with that reassuring remark, she starts uncoiling the brightly, glowing whip from around her waist.

HM!!!

She pays no heed to the sudden strange looks both store owners are giving her. Diana's the very picture of sincerity!! She's fashioning a lasso out of this whip for... educational purposes!! She adds as an aside, for her very hopefully helpful partner--]

Do not worry. Once I'm done, we shall know the truth.

[Diana sounds proud for having explained nothing!!! but it's fine... IT'S FINE]

B. the childrens

[Diana was curious to see what exactly Loren needed help with, but the sight of all these (chaotic) children in a single place doesn't fill her with what should be the natural reaction... fear.... Instead, she takes a single look around, mouth parted in surprise at seeing SO MANY KIDS!!! in ONE PLACE!!! and THEY CAN ALL DO THINGS?? that normal children shouldn't be able to do? life is grand. She's excited! She's never had to wrangle children of any ages before.

Her gaze settles on the two(hundred) year old who's still shouting, and an idea forms in her head]

You may be two hundred and three, but I am eight hundred years old. [PROUDLY!!!] If authority truly answers to age, then that should make me the rightful leader.

[There's a brief silence as the children survey Diana for what seems to be a colossal lie, before they all erupt into a clamor of questions ranging from HOW ARE U SO OLD?? ARE U REALLY EIGHT HUNDRED!! to WHAT ABOUT THE PERSON WITH YOU!! HOW OLD ARE THEY?? and well, hm. that's a good question. Diana raises her eyes to her temporary partner, waiting expectantly]

[how old are U, friend]

wildcard;

[hit me with an empty toplevel and i'll write up a starter for u if U LIKE!!!]

a

[pebblestone]

[ What....is she dOING....

Frederick can't quite stop himself from raising a dubious eyebrow as his assigned partner for the day starts reaching for the weapon at her hip. She looks the picture of grace and justice, but the limits of his trust only reach so far, especially when it comes to strangers. ]

Surely we need not resort to violence so soon, milady?

[ Emmeryn might be dead and buried in the ground but he can still uphold her ideals!! .....As he stands around wearing a suit of full armor with a lance strapped to his back, it's fine. ]

kogarasumaru | touken ranbu

[chichioya]

1; collard greens

[ it was odd, to be out and about, mingling with the people of the world without any need for stealth or strategy. while the citadel was lively, it did not compare to the public air of a shopping district, nor the mood of an intrigued crowd.

so the fellow stranger you've found yourself next to might require you to look down. despite being not much taller than a child, kogarasumaru certainly stands out in this crowd, his bright red clothing and pale, sharp-featured face drawing attention that he seems quite oblivious to. as the two warring chefs turn to face him, he raises a hand and points one taloned finger toward himself to confirm yes, they were expecting action of him as well.

he glances (probably up) at you, amused. ]

My, my. It appears we are being relied on for this task. Shall you join me?

[ yeah, he's entirely unbothered. if you're younger than about 30, he will offer his sharp-nailed, narrow hand to take. should you take it, he will lead ahead. ]


2; terrible two(hundred)s

[ already present, kogarasumaru is seated cross-legged on a desk in the middle of the room, keeping a small group of the children amused by using the little craft he'd had time to pick up to levitate a black feather in the air. behind him, a girl seems to be putting braids in his high fan of a ponytail.

one of the boys is pretty unimpressed with this stranger who has barely begun to master his craft, and grumpily raises his voice. i can do better than that! you should let me show off! ]

Hmm, that may be so. [ he lets the feather drop. it drifts neatly into his hand. kogarasumaru's voice is slow, measured. the intonations of a much older person than he appears to be. ] But I know many more things, as I am many years older than you all. This father can teach you to dance, or wield a blade, should you want to listen.

[ okay maybe he shouldn't be teaching kids to handle swords. thankfully the one at his side remains untouched. he looks up at the new face in the room, and beckons you over. ]

Look, we have another who may teach you new skills. Is that not right?

[ RIGHT...? ]


3; air time

[ you might spot this rather ethereal-looking boy(???) messing with the dial on his far-caster. he's seen the master use modern technology, how hard could this comparatively rudimentary device be to figure out?

pretty difficult, apparently. eventually he finds the weather and settles on listening to it, fascinated. ]

Oh, the snowfall is already over. Such a shame.


?; wild card

(( feel free to start your own prompt or hit me up at yagyuu to talk something out!! ))

2

[thedarkbond]

[Ren is probably not the best person to be put in this kind of situation with, because...honestly, the only reason he's here is because being in good standing with the court seems useful. Otherwise he might've just tried to wander off on Loren before he got here, but now here they are, and Ren's experience with handling children is primarily on the front of running organisations that happen to deal with a lot of them rather than actually handling them himself.

It seems like there's a rather old-sounding young man (or young-looking old man? It's kind of hard to tell) already trying to butter them up, though, so Ren wafts in through the door and comes over, a vague sort of smile on his face.]

Oh, right. I can teach you how to use your imaginations better, I guess...? So you can do more interesting things with your craft.

daylight vis lornlit. | original character. | opal.

[sunborne]

i;; in familiar company.

[ and, suddenly, daylight realises how lucky he was to have such patient uncles and aunties when growing up.

after poor day manages to reset his ringing audials, he shakes his helm and tries to steel himself for the task ahead of them. definitely not what he had in mind when prince loren dragged him and his partner-buddy to this classroom, but he could do this. if he's going to stay in the queen's place, he's going to help out while he could.

so he decides to get into the thick of it. when in rome, survive how the romans did, as the old saying back on earth went. he wants to believe that applies to a room full of magical kids. ]

Hey guys! I'm Daylight! [ he gives a cheerful wave and a quick flutter of his winglets, hoping to catch the last distracted kid's attention. ] Do you want to play a game with us?

[ the kids scream louder in response. did they scream because they were afraid of him? or did they just scream because they liked the idea of playing a game with a giant robot? he's going to hope it's the latter and roll with it. ]

Great! But first- Snacks! That we all have energy. Form a circle over there and we'll pass it out in a minute, guys.

[ as the kids quickly scampered off to the location, day turns to his partner and gives them a sheepish grin. ]

Help me pass the snacks out? We might have a rebellion on our hands if we don't give it to them soon?

ii;; size does matter.

[ oh by the dust and rust- everyone here is so small- he forgot how tiny humans could be at times. ]

Sorry! Excuse me! Coming through-!

[ never has daylight felt more clumsy and oafish than his attempts to get through the busy streets, his expression one of sheepish mortification every time he bumps too hard against some poor vendor or passerby. some look miffed, rightly so, but few dare challenge the giant metal individual.

it honestly makes him feel worse, knowing people didn't like his presence and were actively trying to avoid him. for the million time, daylight wishes he hadn't been asked to grab some things at the market and he wishes he hadn't impulsively agreed out of a desire to help. one of these days, he's willingness to try to help everyone he meets is going to get him shot or-

he hit someone! again!! ]

I'm so sorry! [ daylight gets on his knees, crouching down to get a better look at the person he had just toppled over. ] I didn't see you there and that's not an excuse, I swear, but just an explanation for why I smacked into you and I didn't smack you too hard, right? Are you alright? Are you hurt? I can carry you if you want-

[ er... the person might want to say a word now. otherwise they won't get to say anything at all with how much daylight is babbling out of flustered embarrassment now. ]

iii;;; wildcard!!

[ want to do something else? feel free to do it here! also, you’re welcome to hit me up/plot with me via my plurk prognostic if there’s something specific you want. ]

ii;;

[houseparty]

[ Well, there went some of the toolkit and the various odds and ends he'd bartered and wheedled and paid for, skipping in a dull steel cascade across the ground. Too concerned with retrieval to parse a barbed snap at the asshat who shoulder-checked him like a freight train, it isn't until the shadow falls over Tony, and the rapid-fire apology pours forth, that he notices just what (who?) did the shoulder-checking.



...hang on, give him a sec. ]



...sorry, I'm still stuck on the whole, giant chatty robot thing.

Alex Fierro | Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard

[shiftinglikeclay]

Terrible Two(Hundreds)

[The look Alex gives Loren as he swans out of the room could peel paint. Sadly, being only a look it doesn't actually do that, nor does it bring the infuriating man back.

So she turns her attention to the classroom, watching the children with the mildly interested expression of a cat observing a trapped mouse. Well, at least she's not the only one dealing with the kids.]

Do you want to quiet them or shall I?

Stinky Revenge

Stink bombs. How original. [His tone isn't quite derisive, but it's certainly unimpressed. But he looks up at his fellow Stranger with a smile.]

Still, there's something to be said for the classics, right?

Wildcard!

[Hit me up for anything! You can also ping me on plurk at palmedfire if you wanna plan something out or have questions]

terrible twos.

[fulminatum]

Oh, I've got it.

[ A little whip of air coils around the floating child, and the rest instantly turn their attention as their wayward outlier rejoins the group. To his credit, the room is quiet for about a half second before there's questions from every angle, and Jason is getting swarmed. On second thought, ]

Is it nap time?

superboy | reign of the supermen (2019)

[winbag]

collard greens

[ it's well into the evening, a full five hours after being designated this tedious task in the first place, but superboy thinks he's finally on to something. ]

I've got it.

[ he turns to you in his excitement, practically sparkling from all his geninus, and brandishes the ladle he's been using to sort through the last meal's storage area of ingredients for the last thirty minutes... which is almost as long as how long he's had that smear of flour on his cheek. ]

The two restaurants are enemies, right? This fued's been going on for years? It's obvious what happened!

[ are you ready for it, are you ready. prepare to witness the combination of the genius that is lex luthor and the sharp, investigative mind of clark kent aka the superman: ]

There's a secret third party restaurant out to take them both down! Bingo!

[ ah... so close, yet so far. ]

terrible two(hundreds)

[ now, being a clone and all, superboy isn't entire sure what limits he has in his genetics, such as whether or not he'll actually be able to procreate (or grow, god he hopes he grows, some of these kids are nearly as tall as him already—) but after only about ten minutes stuck in this room with these kids, he promptly decides he never wants to have kids, ever.

it shouldn't be hard. he's a superhero, after all. he's saved the world! (well. sorta. tangentially. ish.) whatever, the point is he was literally made to help people, so keeping a bunch of bratty kids alive till their actual teacher gets there should be a piece of cake.

except maybe threatening to use his repertoire of superpowers (not craft-given, thankyouverymuch) to a room full of impressionable brats probably isn't the best strategy... ]

—Hey! Watch it! I didn't say you could use superstrength to pick your classmates up!!

air time: the birds & the bejesus

[ it's probably not that surprising to find a youth in what appears to be his fledgling older teen years to be listening so intently to this particular broadcast. sure, evandra and aren have some real good radio voices, but it's definitely the content here that superboy is more than a little hooked on.

so much so, that when the reception starts to cut out on his device, superboy actually freaks out and starts to bang it against a nearby wall. ]

Wait! What else!!? How do you know when it's serious?!

wildcard
( wild it up yo )

collard greens.

[erosh]

[ Clark has used those five hours to solidly question everyone involved in this fiasco. He's met the employees, the neighbours, he's even tracked down someone's half-cousin. The mess doesn't look any easier to solve, but at least most of the pieces are looking like they can be put somewhere. They're finally just looking over the scenes of the crimes, so to speak, when the restaurants have closed up and they're not getting in anyone's way. He's letting his partner lead the way through, the other guy seems to know what he's doing... right? ]

Who could that be?

[ Clark is giving him possibly the most dubious expression known to man. ]

river song ( doctor who )

[retrorsum]

( hot under the collard greens )

( this has not been what she'd been planning on doing. looking around, getting a feel for the place that she was now in, how she was now in it--

river had been trying not to pay the affair any mind until the attention had been drawn to her. well, it wouldn't be the first time, would it? trouble always seemed to find her and this would hardly be the first mystery that she's investigated.

with a sigh she turns to the person that has been dragged in with her-- )

I suppose we should get started.

( and then she can get back to her day )

( terrible two(hundreds) )

( two hundred was nothing. she'd passed that age a long time ago, knew others that had. even though the claim came from a child river didn't bat an eyelid at it -- she'd seen more impossible things. hell, she was more impossible than that.

what was ridiculous was being left with a room full of small children. this was not what she was good at. adults were sometimes more than she could really figure out but children-- where was her husband at a time like this? he was a child himself in some faces, he would have this handled no problem.

but instead, she'd been left with a stranger and-- )

My skills don't cover this.

( though vast they were also very specific for her work. children were never part of it. not intentionally )

( wildcard )

( pm for options or hit me with something wild. considering an opal jewel )

hot under the collard greens

[midship]

[This, for better or worse, seems about right.

There had been dozens of times in Horatio Hornblower's life, after all, when he had felt attention cracking through the air like a whip and instinctively willed the earth to break and swallow him whole. They had all, to the last, been exactly in this horrible vein--the abrupt realization that he was about to be dragged into a social situation of more delicacy than simply passing another human being in the street.

Somehow, sheer force of will never worked. Somehow, he always found himself having to speak to whoever had just captured him with their attention. Inevitably, it left the insides of his stomach roiling with the prolonged twisting of nerves that always seemed to accompany polite conversation.

At least there's the good luck of not having been caught alone.]

...mm.

[It's not that he isn't willing, particularly not with someone else clearly ready to take general control. It's more that it seems impossible to guess where one begins with this sort of investigation.]

seoya park; original; yellow jewel.

[arcuballista]

— collard greens;
( After two years of travelling the breadth of her country back home, Seoya is pretty sure she's seen the full spectrum of crazy rural locals.

Of course, that doesn't make it any less awkward when people start arguing in front of you. Or when they commandeer you for an investigation. She bites her tongue on the whine which threatens to spill forth while they're still glaring at her (and the person next to her). Min would have Words for her if she started complaining in the face of what are now, she guesses, questgivers.

But still. )

Okay! ( Hey stranger, I hope you don't mind her taking you by the arm. ) Don't do anything. Either of you.

( If she sounds like Min, they'll listen, right? At least that's what Seoya tells herself as she drags her new companion off and inside one of the buildings. )

— air time, flirting;
( Well, this is certainly the most interesting thing she's heard all day. Not that it's particularly hard to be more pleasant than two grouchy restaurateurs, but all the same.

She listens to the feed, and then pipes up with her own input. Cultural differences are, after all, an important part of any history. )

That's... different. ( Is different a good thing, or a bad thing? She doesn't have enough experience to know. ) Married people are training dummies?

( That's... one way of putting it. )

— wildcard;
( Hit me with something else! Her info is in her journal, but if you wanna chat, slide into my PMs. )

( air time; audio. )

[sunborne]

That makes sense! Kind of!

[ the one replying to her line happens to sound like a young man who is chipper and bubbly. ridiculously bright though his words a bit rushed and strangely... staticky?

huh. maybe it has something to do with the far-caster's connection. ]

I mean- [ he clears his throat, trying to find a way to explain himself. ] Married people are already with someone else! They can't the flirting too far; I can see why it would be considered safe to try and practice your flirting on them of all folks, if they're cool of it and stuff.

... I gotta wonder how you're supposed to know who's someone's lady and who isn't someone's lady, though. Sounds like trouble.

[ ooc; hi there! just wanted to add this note and say if i misread this prompt, let me know and i'll change it accordingly! ]

Jon Snow | Game of Thrones | Purple Dusk Jewel

[song_of_ice]

HOT UNDER THE COLLARD GREENS

[When he agreed to come here, this was not the situation that Jon expected to find himself in. Battlefields were one matter, navigating through treacherous deals and intrigue was somewhat familiar, but solving petty disputes were out of his realm. All he could do was struggle to try to keep up, thinking suddenly of the squabbles he and Theon used to have as boys, were they as pointless as this?

When their attention is directed back at him, he's flummoxed with what sort of response he could and should give. This was different than someone stealing a chicken or an insult from one bannerman to another. This was sugar and milk!]

I...

[His throat feels dry as he tries to imagine himself anywhere else. There is someone else nearby and he quickly looks to them for help. Anything until he could figure out what to even say.]

REVENGE, SERVED STINKY

[On the one hand, he knows that this sort of response would earn a reaction, both bad and good (maybe.) His mind drifts back to Arya and her sheep shifting as a response to whatever slight Sansa had given her. How was this any different? He doesn't know stink bombs, but he can't imagine it being any worse than sheep shit.

But there were possible ramifications. The Bloods would likely not respond well to this and would want to punish those beneath them. He'd seen violence and cruelty and he hated to imagine this being inflicted on these people.

Curiously, he glanced at the other Stranger.]

What do you think?

WILDCARD

[Feel free to choose any scenario!]

collard greens

[inducings]

[ Piper glances at the other Stranger and it seems that he's waiting for her to take the lead, which she doesn't mind doing, even if she hates being in the spotlight, this is just - two people arguing. She can deal with that. ]

We'd be happy to help, right?

[ Glancing at the other Stranger. ]

We can go take a look and see what evidence we find.

Damon Salvatore | The Vampire Diaries | Green Jewel

[withbite]

i: Hot Under the Collard Greens

[Annoyed. That was how he felt. Of all the things he thought he was going to have to deal with here, this... didn't really factor into it. And it brought him back to his earlier years; his human years, when this kind of petty bickering over things like milk and sugar and salt were commonplace. God, he hated it.

Fortunately, he had little in the way of morals, so it was easy for him to just catch both of their eyes and compel them into telling the truth. And then laughing about it, because wasn't that just classic?]

Well, now that we've established you're both full of crap, what exactly should I do with you...?

ii: Terrible Two (Hundreds)

[... Of all the ideas in all of the universes, this was surely up there as one of the worst. When faced with a horde of unmanageable magically gifted children, Damon's best idea, partner or not, was to drag the seat over to the side of the table, sit down, lean back and prop his feet up on the desk, and then pull out a book and start reading. His explanation?]

I don't do children. Trust me on this; you'll be better at it than I am. Go... do whatever it is people with feelings do.

i

[championbittersweet]

[Compulsion is something Jonathan would have resorted to himself, but the Queen's warning rings in his ears at the though and he has to consider other options... Until another Stranger does exactly as he'd considered.

Jonathan's eyes narrow slightly and he waits for another argument to break out between the two owners - unsurprisingly, since finding out they were both at fault was hardly going to make them suddenly get along - and he reaches out to grip the other vampire's shoulder and give it a warning squeeze.]

I wouldn't do that if I were you. [His voice is a low murmur.] Not if you wish to continue your unlife beyond the next night.

Horatio Hornblower | Hornblower

[midship]

[a] TERRIBLE TWO(HUNDRED)S

[Truth be told, Horatio doesn't mind children. Now that he's learned to keep his own stomach, he does quite well with the new recruits and the veritable army of ship's boys constantly needing to be wrangled back into order on the cusp of battle.

But this?

These children are part of an entirely different sort of hierarchy than the one Horatio had been beaten into over the last few years. These children, he's also fairly certain, have a half-decent chance of actually outranking him--and possibly his companion at the front of the room.

Still, a task is a task. All a body can do is break itself in the attempt to comply.] --divide and conquer, then?

[b] AIR TIME

[The fact that everyone isn't utterly fascinated by the tinny voices that seem to pepper their way out of corners nearly wherever he finds himself is almost as fascinating as the voices themselves.

For now, at least, it's the presence of the mechanical marvels themselves that seems to have captured Horatio's attention. He's not completely listening to the words, instead seeming fairly intent to study the unfamiliar lines and contours of the far-caster currently peppering out information as if the speakers were truly no farther than a cable's length away.

If it looks like he's very intently listening to a broadcast about the weather (or, much worse, sex and flirting) with an incredibly intent expression, well, that's just a dreadfully embarrassing something that someone ought to tell him.]

[c] wild card

[hit me with your best shot etc etc]

( prompt a. ) / i was going to give him holoform human but no. all the way.

[sunborne]

Definitely! [ he gives his partner a thumbs up. daylight's winglets flare out from his back, wiggling in excitement as he surveyed the room to pick out his pick of the kiddies. he's definitely going to hang out with the kids who are phasing their hands through the tables because that just looks so cool. could they teach him that?

-erm! ahem. right. ]

I'm sure we can handle this. [ it's always important to put your best foot/pede forward when facing something new and perilous. and part of that parcel is a positive attitude! ] We just gotta- What? Look after some kids for a while?

They only need some stimulation and attention and they'll be good as gold.

[ famous last words, daylight. ]

Sansa Stark | Game of Thrones | Purple Dusk

[theladyofwinterfell]

Terrible Two(hundred)s:

( Sansa hasn't spent extended time with children since her own brothers were small and she doesn't quite know what to do with an entire room of them looking to her for instruction. She has a partner in this, at least, but she's not certain how it will go; she's only just learned how to wield Craft herself these past weeks and instructing others in the art is hardly going to be within her wheelhouse. Children, though. Surely they cannot be so different from realm to realm?

Sansa looks to the boy who claims to be 203 and gives him a smile before clearing her throat and calling all to order. )

Now, little ones, your teacher will be along soon. Why don't we sing a song or two to pass the time? Do any of you know a song you'd like to sing or would you like to hear one of mine?

( Sansa looks to her unwitting partner in this, hoping they'll support her. She thinks she can keep the children occupied until the Craft instructor comes, at the least, and then she can escape for a well-earned cup of tea. She wants children of her own someday, after all, and this could be good practice for that worthy endeavor. )

Anyone? Or are you all a bit shy? There's no need for that, I promise.

Air Time

( Sansa isn't exactly certain of the etiquette in Draega and seeing the piece on how Blood men and women engage with one another leaves her with more questions than answers. She intends to submit a question under cover of anonymity, but it seems that function is unavailable on this Far-Caster (or, more likely, she cannot find it). Sansa has never really flirted with anyone before and the idea of flirting with another woman's husband and it being deemed acceptable is utterly foreign to her.

Is this place that strange, that marriage would mean so little? Or is there something she's simply missing about the nature and character of relationships in Draega that is blessedly absent from Westeros? Well, the only way to know a thing is to ask it, even if it pricks and stings at one's pride. )

Is it really acceptable to make an overture at a man who is married to another woman? And for he, in turn to return a flirtation to a woman who isn't his wife? Forgive me, but I am utterly confused by the way things seem to work here. What seems clear to you is opaque to me and I fear making a misstep as I come to learn this city.

Is anyone willing to give me a bit more guidance on the subject? I cannot promise much in exchange but I am quite a seamstress. I'm certain I could make something that would be worth the time of the explanation.

Air Time

[withbite]

That question comes with a big 'DEPENDS' as an answer. Where I come from, 'acceptable' depends on whether or not it's a poly relationship. Or if they can get away with it. Or whatever religion you're in. A lot of people also just sort of look the other way. Wifey's getting served by her tennis instructor and doesn't care that Hubby is getting extras from the Nanny or his secretary. Marriage gets old. The same set of genitals is boring after a year, let along a decade or ten.

That answer your question?

Tony Stark | MCU | Opal

[houseparty]

TERRIBLE TWO(HUNDRED)S

[ Oh. Oh, this is the nightmare scenario. Forget the Mandarin for a hot sec (and ignore the tightness in his chest that thought evokes), all that was relatively straightforward. Locate Bad Guy, turn Bad Guy into greasy smear with extreme prejudice, take Pepper to St Bart's and get her a better Christmas present than a fucking stuffed rabbit. But kids?

Kids are a different brand entirely.

It also strikes Tony, while the urge is just there to ollie on out and leave the wild-hellion-corralling to the poor schmuck he's been assigned with, he needs to cultivate some goodwill. A lot of goodwill. Absent money, influence and favors are their own currency, sometimes with a higher value than any gold could buy.

Suck it up, Tony. ]

You got any ideas, friend, I'm all ear– hey, Farnan, Osben, we do not phase through our desks in this class.

AIR TIME

[ Well, it's no cellphone or radio, precisely, but Tony finds the far-casters charming nonetheless. Hopelessly antiquated, hence why his has its guts spilled out across the table while he swaps the housing for something a little more sleek.

Only idly listening to the news, something in the broadcast manages to catch his attention. Casting around, he points at the first person he sees. ]

Hey. You. Yeah, Stranger, do you know about this?

[ Tap-tap-tap of the screwdriver tip against the little speaker, Lord Grejor's sleek, urbane voice tinny through the connection. Tony leans forward over his work, speaking low. ]

The fire in Old Town. What happened there?

B-B-BONUS ROUND

[ Please PM if you have any ideas for a thread, I'm easy! ]

terrible two hundreds

[stickypete]

[Peter is also not leaving Tony out of solidarity, but boy he wants to. If Tony tries to run and leave him alone with this, he's beating him out the door.]

Do I look like someone that knows how to handle kids?

[Even dressed in new clothes, Peter has a sort of sad sack, old man energy about him, like he spends a significant portion of his day dedicated to deep thought about new places to dig for change in his apartment to buy bus tokens.]

[A child comes at him with sticky fingers, grasping, and Peter actually hops away, landing in a crouch on the teacher's desk at the front. He stays crouched there in a way that would be unnatural for some, looking perfectly comfortable while doing it, cringing away from sticky hands.]

The most I've managed is not causing a teenager to jack-knife off the natural coast he was making towards personal growth, and he was already on cruise control. I didn't even really contribute much to said personal growth. I just managed to avoid screwing it up.

[He holds a hand to his chest.]

And I'm very proud of it. I personally think it was one of my best moments.

luke castellan — riordan mythos

[kastellano]

hot under the collard greens.

( on the sliding scale of weird, which ranges from i’m talking to the shrubbery to that giant sure did just eat his brother, two weirdos arguing in the street doesn’t take the cake. ( doesn’t even come within fifteen feet of the cake, actually. ) luke barely spares a glance in the direction of the person nearest him, mostly because he hasn’t had breakfast yet. he does not have the patience necessary for two mouthbreathers airing their dirty laundry in the street for anyone to gasp and guffaw over. it’s like watching the ares cabin tear itself down overnight, ripe with aggression and the need to prove themselves.

soon, one of them is going to be face down in the street with the other one standing over them, foot at their throat, demanding tribute. he’s almost disappointed when that’s not what happens. )

What? ( he blurts out listlessly, lips curving downward, not quite in a sneer but he’s not enthused here. tweedledee and tweedledum think he’s going to help them? now, he flicks his eyes towards the poor soul next to him. ) I mean, what can my friend, crime-solving extraordinaire, do for you?

( sorry "pal", but trust and believe he’s trying to slide right on out of this by pushing you under a bus. exit stage right. think fast! )

terrible two(hundred)s.

( the good thing about being a camp counselor and living at a summer camp for five years is that his ability to snuff out his inner thoughts and keep them from showing on his face is on point. he could be glaring daggers at the door, he could be bailing. he hears the amplified never-ending screams, sees the girl suspended near the ceiling and glances down at the lesson plan laid out before them.

n o p e. )

You look like you have this under control. ( he kicks his feet up on the desk and slouches in his chair, getting real comfortable. he slings his arm over his eyes, uses the crook of his elbow as a shield from the light and the goblins masquerading as children. ) Wake me up when Lady Sheera gets here.

revenge, served stinky.

( the crisp chill in the air reminds him of autumn nights in manhattan, back before everything soured. it’s not an observation he lingers on, not anymore than the architecture — every building is different in a way annabeth could appreciate, though admittedly, being made of brick isn’t that impressive. he dispels a breath into the air, letting go of those plaguing reminders in favor of the blinding lights. he’s not anticipating someone to come bouncing up to him with equal energy to those neon colors and at first, he tenses up, fingers twitching for the hilt of his sword—

and then lowers his hand as quickly as it came up. no sooner than he does that, he’s being yanked right into the midst of their shenanigans. mari doesn’t have to explain revenge to him, he’s fluent in the concept. needing to make someone ( multiple someones ) pay for their mistakes more than breathing, more than love, more than life? yeah, he gets it. )

Stink bombs? ( child's play. his brows lift, stretching the scar from above his eyebrow to his jaw. ) As much as I'm on board with giving them a taste of their own medicine, what's making their building reek going to accomplish long-term? You need to give them a reason to help you.

( gods, this is not his schtick. not since he had big blue eyes and bigger gray ones looking up at him. where's percy when you need him to valiantly throw himself into a wall repeatedly? frustrated, wondering why he's even attempting to play the noble card here ( when it would suit him to do the opposite ), he huffs and meets the eyes of the stranger nearby. ) You want to give it a try?

( because he's about to a) look the other way or b) can't beat 'em, join 'em. )

revenge

[phykios]

[ where's percy when you need him, indeed.

in this case, emerging from some time in the river, as you do, and getting distracted on his way back to the place he shares with his friends. the distraction being, in this case, by the commotion down this particular street. he's older than luke ever saw him, nearly luke's age when they first met, all taller and leaner and more battle-scarred. wears his power more easily and his years more heavily.

and when luke turns to him, and percy really sees him, he looks like he's seen a ghost. can you blame him?

(and all at once he's angry, because in some ways he's not that different from luke.) ]

What do you think you're doing?

[ in every single way, this person seems to be luke. but percy's seen ghosts, and they're nothing like this. this can't be a case like hazel, either; the doors of death are closed. so what he thinks, of course, is trick.

(he remembers melinoe, in the underworld: soon, percy jackson, you will have many ghosts. and you will remember me. ) ]

annabeth chase, riordan mythos.

[athnvas]

TERRIBLE TWO (HUNDREDS)

[ annabeth blinks around at the screaming children, equal parts exhausted but accepting. for the one standing next to her, she looks fairly calm. more calm than she probably should. she’ll be having words with prince loren later, that much is for sure, but there is a task at hand and there is chaos around her and annabeth chase is nothing if not familiar with chaos.

especially chaos that happens to involve screaming children with impressive powers that only lend them more potential to be that much louder and that much more obnoxious. at least she doesn’t have godly parents to deal with as well.

a child screams near her leg, and annabeth doesn’t so much as flinch, surveying the room around her. it’s not that she likes or dislikes children specifically (and in situations like these she would absolutely lean more towards the dislike side of things), but she has experience in this. she has been a camper, and now basically a camp counselor, for more of her life than she hasn’t. this? this is easy. try leading capture the flag after the ares and haphaestus cabins have started in on a prank war. that will change your outlook on things.

so annabeth sets her hands on her hips. ]

Hey! [ not nearly loud enough. one, maybe two kids turn to look at her. this won’t do. ] Come on guys, this is- [ she means to say embarrassing, that even eight and ten years old know better. most of the eight to ten year olds she’s dealt with have been on world-saving missions, or have had to outrun monsters to save their own life. but this?

a boy - she’s not sure which one, but she say him duck behind his desk before running off so she’ll remember his face when she sees him next - throws something at another couple of boys a few rows in front of him.

she sighs, reaching up to rub the bridge of her nose, before- ]

Hey!

[ there’s a force behind it, loud and carrying. ever heard a camp counselor voice? this is close, but with something a little more threatening behind it.

the sound in the room stills briefly. annabeth gives a small smile. ]

Better.

REVENGE

[ annabeth's eyes wander to the architecture more than anything, the red brick reminding her of boston, of magnus. it's a complicated turn in her chest, but it's also interesting enough to keep her attention as she wanders into this part of town. how the buildings have changed, what has been added, what isn't worth looking at. and despite her better judgement, she lets the thoughts consume her a bit, keeping her distracted. or at least, distracted enough that she doesn't notice the woman until her elbow is being latched onto and she's being pulled off to the side.

who...oh. mari. annabeth's eyes quickly shift around to the group of other young adults, checking their attention, their...well. their level of threat, really. annabeth doesn't appreciate being pulled into a group of people she doesn't know. honestly, appreciates it as much as she appreciates being put on the spot in front of said group, noticing whatever it is they're trying to drop down into the grate, their intent.

she frowns, looking both disappointed and also disgusted as she pulls her arm back from the woman's grip. ] If your homes are unlivable, why don't you fix them instead? [ she can't deny the slightest hint of mischief that does rise up in her chest, but it's small enough for her to push back away.

her gaze catches the eyes of the other stranger. she holds them a moment, before turning her attention back to the group. whatever you'd like to do, that's your prerogative, but she is not into this. ]

Besides, you're not doing yourself any favors. An obvious, suspicious group of people standing right over where they'll assume someone would place something like this? [ she rolls her eyes, unimpressed. ]

WILDCARD

[ feel free to hit me up at disarmingly ]

;laskdjf - revenge

[inducings]

[ Piper, who was thrilled beyond measure to see her friend, still hates the feeling when the crowd's eyes shift to the strangers... to her.

She glances at Annabeth and immediately agrees that this is not the best way to get things done.

The question is - what's the best way to get them to back down. ]

It's certainly get their attention... but would it be the right kind of attention?

[ The crowd murmurs and Mari speaks up: 'Are you threatening us?' ]

Tyrion Lannister | Game of Thrones

[whettedmind]

a. hot under the collard greens

[This isn't the most absurd situation Tyrion has ever found himself caught up in. That had involved a great deal more wine than he's had so far today, an excessive number of feathers, and, he's absolutely certain, quite a bit more fun than he expects to have today. Still, there's something unquestionably farcical about being stared down in the street by a pair of cooks bound and determined to press him and his entirely accidental companion into investigating what is, to all appearances, a petty feud between them.

One they'd allowed to escalate to the point that it seems to have actually done some damage to their business, which in his estimation makes them marginally less spiteful than roughly half the Westerosi nobles of his acquaintance, if only because it hasn't escalated to bloodshed. Yet. If he hasn't badly misinterpreted what he's learned so far about the Blood here in Draega, a continued absence of blood spilled over petty grievances is hardly guaranteed.

He slants a look at his companion, sidelong and up, and wonders aloud:] Do you know the penalty the local magistrates impose for sabotage?

[Or stupidity. One and the same, in this case.]

b. revenge, served stinky

[Tyrion crouches obligingly at the edge of the storm drain to eye the canisters as they're lowered in. Their construction means little to him - he's no maester, and such things are very much a maester's tricks - but given what Mari names them, even a child could grasp the intent.

It's an amusing thought, in the same way a child putting a toad in their nurse's bed is amusing: juvenile, trivial, and bound to be ignored at best, and punished at worst. And if the target's to be the Ebon Council, "at worst" seems the smart bet.]

What, exactly, is your cause? [He glances up at the other Stranger in the crowd, as the only person likely to speak sense on the matter. Some of the students seem nervous, but they're caught up in their teacher's thrall, and unlikely to want to speak against the crowd where their peers will hear and judge them for it.] If it's to provoke the Council, this is a good start, but making them retch won't make them see the value in helping you.

c. air time

[The Farcasters are strange, barely comprehensible, and a little bit unnerving.

They are also very, very useful, and Tyrion has settled in to listen to the news rather more intently than those actually accustomed to such technology might be used to - it's the news, after all, not something entertaining, salacious, or entertainingly salacious.

Grejor's polished welcome is enough to fracture his attention, however, and he utters a low snort.] Only because we might be naive enough to be useful.

air time

[stickypete]

Which is why we ought to fake we are.

[The man on the farcaster looks fairly unremarkable other than the fact that he has his farcaster propped on a ledge very high up. He seems to be sitting on the ledge while chomping on some kind of sticky bun. Occasionally he breaks off a small piece and puts it on the ledge so a few little birdies can pick at it.]

Naive, that is. The fact that a lot of people are going to want to use us is a big fat duh, so we need to use that ourselves. Play dumb.

Jessica Jones | Netflix Marvel | Purple-Dusk Jewel

[assholic]

i: Terrible Two(Hundreds)

[This was hell. This was clearly her hell. She'd agreed to come to this weird place with weird rules and it had all been a ploy and now she was dead and in hell. Children were everywhere, with their high-pitched squeals and boundless energy. It was even worse when she saw two of them having some kind of sword battle in the air.]

Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?

[A little girl with quiet, dark eyes took that moment to come up to Jessica and tug on her sleeve.]

No one here's named Jesus. Unless that's Jesus? Are you Jesus?

[The girl was now looking at her unfortunate partner in crime who'd been shunted into this ungodly position. Jessica bit her lip and tried not to grin. Sorry.

Only not.]

ii: Air Time

[It wasn't Youtube or Google, but it was something to take her mind off her own thoughts. She'd brought her own phone, but she had it turned off to save the power. Why bring a phone that couldn't be used? Because it had pictures on it. Pictures of people she still gave a crap about.

But the Far-Caster, or whatever dumbass nickname they were giving it, had been given to her as the sort of... local equivalent. It had taken her a little poking around, but she was currently tuned in to the News; listening to the male voice tout about fires and the supposed 'Strangers' brought here. Great.]

Wonderful. Talk about having to battle more useless political bullshit.

[Not that she really understood the petty bickering anyway, but it was the same everywhere, wasn't it? Dems vs Reps, Right vs Left. Someone was almost 'more right', when in fact they were so busy bitching at each other, they couldn't agree that they were both wrong. Maybe someone passing by hears her mumbling, or catches her changing the channel and wants her to stop on something?]

iii: Wildcard

[Have a better idea? Toss it at me.]

air time!

[inducings]

[ Piper pauses to listen once she heard the word 'Strangers'. She glances between the Far Caster and the woman listening to it, then walks over to listen more closely until the feed is over. She frowns a little, then turns to Jessica. ]

Sorry, I wanted to finish hearing what he was saying. [ It was creepy, possessive and cold. She wasn't a member of this 'Blood' unless she chose to be, thank you very much. ] He sounds... fun.

the Doctor || Doctor Who

[timeslastsoldier]

Terrible Two Hundreds

He peers around the room, folding his arms. It is obvious he's not entirely pleased.

"Craft lessons? Craft lessons? All this and you want to build Turkeys out of popsicle sticks? Nah. There's a whole world to explore." He grins.

"Come on! Everyone in a line... Close enough. And let's see what's out there." He glances at his companion. "Ready?"

---
---
Revenge Served Stinky

He's not one to judge by markings, or people trying to kill him. It's a bit difficult to take it personally since it happens so often. People trying to kill others has a different ring to it, but since he's still getting used to the politics and ideals at this place, he's not ready to jump the gun too quickly.

The Doctor joins the group readily enough. Seeing another stranger has also been lured in and makes his way over to them, hands folded behind him.

"What d'you think? Anyone could use a good revolution. Even if it is a bit revolting."

sup!

[championbittersweet]

Jonathan is slightly more sceptical considering he still quite vividly recalls the first night he'd arrived and the carnage that had followed, and he's not certain that this particular plan is going to benefit anyone.

"Revolution is one thing," he says, looking at the other man with a faint frown. "But I don't think that this will help the already strained tension. Surely it would be better to try and organise help for these people instead of lashing out."