agentleooc | test drive 02

Entry tags:

!modpost,
!tdm

test drive 02

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.

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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]

[ 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!

[Okay, okay, don't freak out. Emil gives him a look for his attitude despite being the one who suggested that horrible idea in the first place.]

Lalli— come here, stop doing that.

[Covering his ears, he means. The children can smell fear. He doesn't have a spare coat to drape over Lalli like he's covering a skinny, moody birdcage, but please... Maybe making sure Lalli doesn't completely wig out takes priority over these children. Emil tugs on his sleeves with both hands, not that he has a solution... Lalli can just face the wall in the corner for a while.

Anyway Emil is Not doing Anything that involves strange kids pretending to beat him up with magic.]

Well, we can't leave. They're only children...

[It's not a full-blown meltdown quite yet, probably because his co-substitute just so happens to be his one friend, but listening to these screaming children is overwhelming! It takes so much effort to resist, like, pulling away and/or ducking under the nearby desk...

But while the hands are staying put for the foreseeable future, he forces himself to take a breath and at least try to be... somewhat helpful. Maybe. Somewhere, surely one or two kids are pointing at him and laughing.]

Send them home! Or— [What do kids even like to do? He doesn't know, so, uh, naturally—] Do something! They're loud.

[Maybe he'll think of a silence spell or something in a second, but until then? This.]

[Just look over here at Emil and/or this nice wall and not the children. Now Emil has one more, bigger child to look after, or rather he already had this one and now he has like 20 more! Kids!!

Anyway, great, now that it's confirmed that he's on his own even though Lalli is here, uh-- he's got nothing. Just another useless tug, like making Lalli turn away from the kids will stop them from staring.]

Hmm, okay. All kids are loud, to be fair. If you stay right here for just a minute, I'll do my best?

[Don't run away and leave him here alone! He can try going to talk to a few of these kids, though. Try.]

[He wasn't loud, which is why he huffs as he reluctantly turns to stare at a stupid poster on the stupid wall. Yeah, sure. Go! He will just be Here, reading this list of rules regarding ~acceptable uses of magic~ as he waits for things to... quiet down...

...Well. It takes a minute or so for things to finally fall into place, but when they do—aha! His Opal is right there in his pocket, because of course it is, and he risks the well-being of his poor eardrums to reach down and wrap his fingers around it. Casting non-Finnish spells still feels? Weird? He's yet to fully master it, but a bit of concentration is all it takes to... muffle... everything going on around him. Much better. Makeshift earmuffs are no longer required.

Anyway, as Emil is privy to none of this since he's presumably crouched down beside a gaggle of children—Lalli eventually wanders over to loom behind him and scowl down at the tiny terrors. He hates them... and they hate him, because one of them rudely sticks his tongue out? A gesture which Lalli promptly returns, much to the hilarity of all. See, Emil! He's helping! And being bullied by pipsqueaks, RIP.]

[Emil is doing great with the kids, thanks for asking. Whatever he's actually saying to them over here doesn't matter as much as how the kids suddenly are very excited about his attention, and he is indeed crouched on the floor with a gaggle of children by the time Lalli decides to join him. He is their king. They love him, and only one of them keeps going for his hair. Two, actually, but the other one is the girl who's floating up by the ceiling and can't seem to get herself down far enough to reach his luscious locks.

So the babysitting is going great now that he's had to degrade himself sitting on the floor and letting strangers' kids tug on him and try to touch his hair.

He looks up at Lalli when he notices the very mature tongue-sticking-out interaction, which he finds endearing only because he's soft and weak. The terrible feud between Lalli and Children flies completely over his head.]

Hey! [it took him a mere 30 seconds to decide he loves all of these children actually, sorry about his life] Are you feeling better?

[This feud is about to turn into an all-out war, because that child will not stop staring up at him? There's something incredibly annoying about it, actually, which is why he narrows his eyes and leans down the slightest bit. It's a stare-off!

But he can barely hear a) shrill laughter and b) Emil's question, so give him a second to, like, piece together that incredibly short sentence as he waits for this boy to blink first. How is Emil getting along with these dumb children? Why is he letting one touch his hair?? Lalli's going to shoo that child away from his friend after this current situation is dealt with, just wait.]

No. It's not as loud now, but I don't like it here. [A beat, and then, in an extraordinarily petty fashion:] I don't like him.

[And the boy in question asserts that he doesn't like this weirdo, either. Is one of the children in the background chanting, "Fight, fight, fight," over and over again... hmm...]

emil västerström | stand still stay silent

kids...you know i had to

the curse gets worse

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