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.

► 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I do not know how to churn butter. We have servants to do that.

( Perhaps it's too snippy a reply, though, so Sansa follows it up with another, longer message once she's had a moment to collect herself. )

My apologies. I only mean that I am a lady, so I have always had servants to cook my food and fetch for me. As far as relationships having to have good sex, I beg to differ. In my experience, men can find their pleasure well enough without women taking any in the act.

[A 'lady', mmm? Well, that made more sense as to the odd questioning and her... experience. He shook his head.]

Then whoever you know who's having their fun is doing it wrong. Good sex is good for both parties. Or all three parties. Whoever's involved. If only one person's getting their rocks off, that's just rude. Might be a lady thing, too. Bet if you ask some of your servants, you'll find they get tickled the right way. You gotta ask for it. Or demand it. Or just take it.

I've had quite enough of being bedded for a lifetime, thank you. If I never have to marry again, that will be too soon.

( And, yet, when he mentions the servants Sansa remembers how they used to flutter around and talk about the men they had their eyes on. She remembers how Margaery Tyrell had told her that Tyrion Lannister might well make a good husband, based on certain attributes. She remembers that her mother bore her father five children and seemed happy about it, so not everything about sharing a bed with one's husband must be agonizing. Hmm. )

That's the nice thing about this place. No one cares about my name or my castle, so I'm free to do as I like without threat of being married again.

Then you're not doing it right. Or didn't have it done right. And there's absolutely no reason you have to get married to find that out. Marriage is a sham anyway. Who wants to be permanently linked to one person forever? That's boring. Like I said, the same set of genitals gets boring after awhile. Best bet is to go out and find fun new ones to play with. Or be played with. I dunno. Whatever way you lean, lean hard.

Well, I can't go and bear some man's bastard. Women aren't afforded that luxury in the world. You speak as if women have the same freedoms as men and I assure you, they do not. What a man is applauded for, a woman is shamed for.

( It incenses her, but not because of him. He's only speaking to his own experiences which, honestly, seem better than what she's experienced. Sansa thinks she might have liked to have a choice for once in her life and not be punished for it. )

No one marries me out of love. They marry me for my title. I am under no allusions that my last husband kept no other bedmates. I was just his favorite to make miserable, is all.

EEEENH wrong. Both where I'm from and here. There's also birth control. Or just having sex with people that are sterile. Dunno if you noticed, but there's a big women's rights movement here. Pretty sure you can get your freak on and no one's going to give you any crap over it.

[Rah, rah, women power. He'd never really cared about 'putting women in their place' when he'd been born and still human. But then, he'd also been a mama's boy, so...]

Sunshine, you REALLY need to get laid and laid good. Go out and find the prettiest face you can. Whoever gets you tingling. And then just tell them to make it worth your while. They'll do all the work.

[Best advice giver ever? Hell yeah.]

I wouldn't even know where to begin choosing to bed someone. In my experience, it's something to endure and escape from.

( Still, though, his words have piqued a curiosity in her. Women do seem to be highly esteemed in Draega, much more so than they are anywhere else Sansa has ever been. There are potions she can take to prevent carrying a child that seem more efficacious and safe than moon tea. Perhaps he isn't so wrong about her being able to seek someone out to share a bed with, no matter how foreign it feels to her. )

And pretty faces can belie dark secrets. I've learned that one the hard way. Perhaps better to choose someone plain?

Looks aren't going to tell you anything about someone. I've met mean ugly people and mean pretty people. Mean doesn't care what you look like. Pretty people just get away with it more because they're pretty. I happen to be a complete prick and I'm gorgeous, so there's that.

You aren't so terrible. If you were truly cruel, you wouldn't have explained things so...thoroughly. You would have simply mocked me for my lack of knowledge or used it to take advantage of me for your own means. You never suggested yourself as this bed partner, only told me to seek one out and enjoy myself. I think that's altruistic enough.

Could it be that you're not as lovely as you claim you are and that's why you're so kind?

[Damon took a picture, pouty lips in a smile and all, then sent that.]

I'm bored. Don't let that fool you. If you're semi-decent, I'd rock your world.

( He's actually quite an attractive man, all told, but Sansa hasn't allowed herself to feel anything for anyone in a long while. The Sansa that cared about brave knights and handsome princes has been tempered into something else entirely. Still, she supposes she owes him the same in exchange and sends a picture of her own. )

You only entertained my question because you were bored? No...beds to visit or women to please? I have my doubts of that.

[Redheads. Of course she was a redhead. He snorted, but he saved the picture in a little file, because she was also a pretty redhead. Didn't hurt.]

I'm new here. Figuring out the lay of the land. Or who to lay. Whatever. Besides, not everyone's interested in bumping naughty parts with a vampire.

[Discretion was for Stefan. And wussies.]

Forgive me, but I do not believe I have ever heard the word vampire before. What's that, exactly, and why would it turn people away from your bed?

( The more she talks to him, the more he reminds her of the Hound or Lord Tyrion. He's crass, yes, but he's also speaking of things she has no frame of reference for and it's a struggle to keep her end of the conversation going. )

[He sent another picture. This one had his fangs out.]

I'm a big bad monster, Red. Sexy as all hell, but scary. Not that it REALLY keeps me from getting laid. I'm good at it and I look good. That's all some people care about.

( It's unusual, perhaps, but considering Jon had been risen from the dead by a Red Priestess and Ramsay had managed to do all sorts of terrible things without filing his teeth into fangs, Sansa thinks teeth are the least of her concerns. )

My last husband used the flayed man as his sigil because that's what he did to anyone who crossed him. I'm not afraid of your teeth. I suppose it would keep some from your bed, though. What do you do with them? Do you savage people like a wolf or a bear?

[Huh. Seemed the little 'Lady' had a backbone. Or at least, a shitty enough experience that his big bad wasn't impressing her. He'd come across sadistic types before, but flying someone alive? That almost sounded like Klaus. Or Mikael.]

Bite. I drink blood. Part of being undead. Your ex sounds like a dick -- Take it from someone who's familiar. You're really not freaked out, huh?

[That just made Sansa 'Interesting'.]

( Drinking blood. Well, it's strange, to say the least, but depending on how badly it hurt to be bitten and how much blood was taken, it might not be terrible. It could be endured. )

I've suffered every indignity and immeasurable pain from a man who had rights to me just because I was forced to exchange words with him. I don't think you drinking my blood ranks highly on things I'm afraid of. Besides, women know more of blood than men. We see much more of it.

[Be still his slowly beating heart. He laughed at her reply, nodding to himself, alone, as he agreed. He supposed she was right. Probably why most of the female vampires he met were so... specific.]

I can make it good. I CAN make it terrible too. But in the right scenario, it can be more than good.

[There were other things he could share; the healing, the other abilities he had, but he was laying the bait now. Seeing if she'd nibble or not.]

I've been bitten before. It wasn't what I would describe as pleasurable. I suppose you're going to tell me you have a certain way you'd go about it?

Oh, I do. Sharper teeth help, but there's other things...

[Here, fishy fishy fishy.]

So you'll bite me with your sharper teeth and it hurts less because it takes less time? I suppose that would be advantageous if one drinks blood.

( ... )

What other things?

[Tug, tug.]

THOSE kinds of things are ones you'd have to find out in person. I don't make the rules.

Are you asking me to offer you my blood? How much would you need? Would I have an assurance you won't take it all?

I could give you my word, but you'd have to figure out on if you'd believe it or not. I might be asking for more than just blood. Or, maybe, the attempt to prove my point. Points.

( Oh. )

Are you propositioning me?

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