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

[phykios]

[ okay, sriracha and beetroot are.....A LOT MORE SPECIFIC THAN SWEET AND SALTY, and not what his first guesses would've been either!!! he tries not to frown, because tbh neither flavor really appeals to him....what happened to flavors like chocolate or cookie dough, anyway? ]

Have you tried both of these?

[illequipped]

[Cooooool... yeah, he totally gets it. Emil definitely knows what's happening here, for sure, and he has no questions left at all. The pat on the shoulder is not really encouraging, but he's too frazzled by being super deaf to get offended about it.]

Talking about what? How I can't hear anything? There could be a mountain of angry changelings climbing over this desk right now and I wouldn't even notice!

[Surely not, but look, he's defenseless!! More than he already was. There's a beat before he looks up, just to be sure... okay. No kids.]

[stickypete]

I am not a natural, he was a self-righting kid. He'd just bump into something, back up, and get on his merry way. Like a Roomba. [He grimaces at the kid Tony's wrangling.] They're so sticky. Why are they all so sticky? Where's it coming from?

["Ezran brought in jelly tarts," a little girl says cheerfully. A little boy with dreadlocks holds some up towards Peter and Tony in his little jammy hands, offering to share.]

Uh, thanks, kid, but pass. [The kid suddenly looks like he's going to burst into tears so Peter looks skyward, decides his enhanced immune system can take the child germs, and amends his answer.] Okay, one.

[The child walks over and hands him one. He takes it, pops it into his mouth and chews, giving a very fake smile. The kid then proceeds to notice something colorful under his sleeve and tugs at it with sticky hands. "What's that?"]

Buddy, that's not a toy.

[It's red wristband, one that might have looked like an otherwise innocuous chunky bracelet or watch if not for the metal prong extending into Peter's palm. A trigger of some kind. "Pretty!" goes a little girl.]

[Peter shakes his hand away from the boy, and speaks to Tony around a mouth full of tart as he tries to mop sticky jam off this child's hands with a tissue as well.]

I don't think I caught your name, by the way.

air time

[phykios]

[ percy stops, literally mid-step, when tony calls out to him. his eyes go to tony, to that dismembered far-caster, and then back to tony as he asks that question.

well, it's not like he's in a hurry to get back home; so he comes over when beckoned, takes a seat near tony. coming from his job at the docks means he smells more like open water than usual, but also a little fishy. (literally.) (not, like, suspicious.) (unless smelling like ocean air and fish is suspicious.) ]

Yeah, I know about it. The fire happened the same day a lot of us woke up here. [ he frowns then goes on, softer, ] Apparently? The Hunter guild guys found out the queen was bringing us here, and broke into the palace and tried to kill us. That part I can verify, and I can tell you it wasn't a fun way to wake up. After that, they ran, but not before lighting up Old Town to cover their tracks. A lot of us spent all night fighting those fires, not to mention cleaning up and patching up the wounded afterwards.

[ilves]

[You know, as great as his friend is, Lalli would love it if Emil just! Processed things! The same way he does!! It would make Lalli's life so much easier, thanks.

But as no children are currently approaching, Lalli just settles back against the desk... only slightly miffed that Emil didn't tell him what a great job he's done. He wishes that he couldn't hear anything at all... hmph...]

I would. [Probably. Anyway, he's just sayin'.] But if you're scared, then just stay quiet.

[HMPH!!]

[illequipped]

[Did he do a great job? Did he, really? Emil was not expecting total deafness, so did he go good???

Anyway: whatever! Emil sits back himself with a scoff, crossing his arms to complete his fussy baby Look.]

I'm not scared, I'm just... confused.

[Also, he is scared. Also, he is allergic to staying quiet, even when he's in a mood. He lasts only a few moments, as usual - less time, actually, because the silence is oppressive. Lalliiii.....]

Are you ignoring me now? Lalli, come on.

terrible two hundreds

[cryogene]

[Children are the one thing in life that Elsa gets without any anxiety or worry. Her own childhood had been trying but her love for her sister made her embrace all the energy children had to offer. These children are particularly energetic. Elsa is wavering between amused and concerned for the only other adult in the room.

She's in the middle of quietly ushering a small group into their seats when Tony calls out the boys. She remembers being this age and constantly being reprimanded and fearful of things she couldn't control. Maybe there's more control to be found in these children. She approaches them with a deliberate slowness.]

What do you think would happen if your arm ends up stuck?

[Children this age are capable of thinking through their actions. These two boys don't seem like they're willing to cooperate. Elsa looks to Tony. She could freeze their hands to their desks but that isn't the best way to win friends or gain influence.

Maybe I should tell everyone a story about a time I didn't listen and wound up stuck alone in the middle of a castle made of ice.

[Maybe an offer of a story will get them all to quiet down?]

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. )

( a )

[kastellano]

I'm not worried. ( a perfectly reasonable response to a perfectly unreasonable action. someone asks for a hand, you whip it out. uh. he frowns momentarily, subtle, more at his own train of thought than whatever it is she's doing. somewhere in the midst of it, his arms have crossed. oddly at ease, when he should be making a grab for a weapon of his own. he doesn't know her, he has zero reason to trust her and she hasn't been very forthcoming with her plan. sometimes, letting the intriguing ( potentially terrifying ) woman do her thing is the best course of action.

not because he's scared or particularly concerned for the two chefs but because she's remarkably attractive; ergo she can do whatever the hell she wants. it's not like he wants to deal with the situation. ) Oh. Would you two relax? If she wanted to beat it out of you, she wouldn't be uncoiling it that slowly.

( he's making a logic-based assumption, being that fights ( one-sided brawls included ) don't play out in slow motion. ...usually. )

How's that going to solve anything?

[unwieldy]

[ That's very correct. Haein is looking for the fastest way to both solve this and dip. It makes total sense to treat the restauranteurs the way they want to be treated by letting them win stupid prizes for playing stupid games.

Gods, Haein doesn't know these people but he already hates them. Though at least he can relate to wanting to get the last hit in. ]

I'm giving them a common enemy. [ Leans back in his chair and looks out the window to assess the crowd situation. Hm... it's starting to clear up a bit. ] I tell them if I come back and they're still at each other's throats, I'll toss all their shit out.

[ P... pause. He doesn't want to have to come back. ]

Or you can do that.

[withbite]

Drinking makes it better. Trust me.

[How he'd lucked out so much, he couldn't say, but he'd have to play soft and careful with this one. Public exposure back home was one thing. Public exposure in a world full of witches? Potentially sucky.]

That's something to talk about in person. Pretty sure you don't want me listing all the potential spots for nibbling in public.

[withbite]

[Damon's face took on the look of someone both exasperated and disgusted.]

Ugh. Save me from puppy fluff love. It's disgusting.

[midship]

[Maybe this will be all right. Maybe this hulk of a man(?) he's been volunteered with could handle the bulk of the rowdiness. Maybe, despite the lack of a proper plan and the myriad things which could (and often did) go wrong with unpredictable factors (which these children seemed very much to be), they could fight their way through.

That doesn't stop Horatio looking faintly dubious at the suggestion.]

Hm. [It would, of course, be good to tire the little ones out. Even the comparatively quiet lot left to him in the division of targets seemed quite content to scream at the top of their childish lungs for no earthly reason. The rowdiness which could come with a chasing game might only get the blood up more.

But there's no use tearing things down without a counter-proposal. And there's no use thinking back to what he himself would have liked at this age.

Tag, unfortunately, it just might be.] Is there enough room?

[theladyofwinterfell]

No, I do not think it would be appropriate to list those things in public. I would imagine they are better discussed behind closed doors. I will have to ask you not to be alarmed when you see me. My last husband was not a gentle jailor, I’m afraid.

[thedarkbond]

really? they seemed pretty serious about it... .n.
how long ago did you arrive here, then? it sounds like you're pretty sure about it

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. ) ]

[houseparty]

[ Crisp, salty air and silvery fish scales, yeah, that's a few notes he notices when Percy strolls on over and sits down. It's hard to tell where he's from originally; if he's even from Earth at all, anywhere post-60's, with a haircut like that.

Tony casually shifts closer, listening intently even as he returns to tinkering with the device. ]

These Hunter guys, they're landen? What's their story?

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.

[phykios]

I only know what the queen told me, [ he admits, drumming his fingers against the table. he'd felt like she was being honest, but that doesn't mean she gave him -- or even had -- the full story. ]

They're landen. Hate all the Blood, so they train to be killers. Since the queen brought us here and gave us those gemstone things, they might think we're close enough. From what I'm getting, I can't really blame them for hating the Blood, but murder still isn't cool.

[shiftinglikeclay]

[He flashes an edged smile]
Technically dead. But apparently I was 'heroic' enough to get made an einherjar, so [He spreads his hands and shrugs] Here I am

[shiftinglikeclay]

Fair. There may be way stupider stuff I don't know about.

Doesn't make assuming everyone fits nicely into their heteronormative gender binary any less stupid.

[shiftinglikeclay]

[A shrug]

Yea. But a lot of einherji are. I take it you've got some godly blood too?

[fulminatum]

[ Well, it's not like Jason is ever subtle if anyone gets to three conversations with him. ]

My father is Jupiter. [ He's still a Roman, through and through. ] Or you might know him as Zeus.

[shiftinglikeclay]

[Alex... didn't exactly pay much attention when getting the whole orientation thing.]

Lets just say I tend to side with the underdogs. Tweak the tails of power and all that.

[shiftinglikeclay]

[Some of the landens look less than thrilled with that idea, but Alex just looks thoughtful.]

Could work, could work. Heck, you're big enough you can just bumble around and it'll attract attention. Just... nothing that would get you arrested. So major property damage is probably out.