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

[garmr]

[For someone who had mastered his air of gruff austerity, he seemed oddly patient with the hands gripping at his clothes. As long as they didn’t wander too close to any of the less innocuous equipment strapped to him, that is. Magic kids and blades were never a good combination, regardless of the realm.

Her acknowledgment of the slight discomfort was admittedly a bit unexpected.]

What is there to explain? It’s what you wear when you don’t want to die.

[theladyofwinterfell]

( Sansa smiles a bit all the same, not wanting to alienate anyone. Of course armor was meant to protect someone from injury but she'd hoped a discussion about that would be less threatening. She turns back to the children. )

Could anyone tell me what you've worked on so far? I am very new to Craft so you could probably teach me things I don't know.

[garmr]

[The woman smiles, but he still gets the distinct feeling he messed up the answer. Maybe it was the way one of the eight year olds pops out from under the black cloth with an eagerness to know more about the morbid topic.

[He ignores the prodding questions from the girl - Why so many knives? Is that a metal arm? Can I touch it? What’s with the sword? - and makes another attempt to follow the other Stranger’s lead.]

I think that one’s working on his landing.

[He points up at one of the floating children clambering on the ceiling, looking back at them upside down.]

[theladyofwinterfell]

Oh, I have trouble with landings too. It's really...you should think of coming down onto a very soft cloud. It's a gradual thing, not so quickly.

( To demonstrate, Sansa uses Craft to lift herself into the air and come down. It's slightly shaky, yes, but a bit more graceful than the boy had done just now. At least this is something she can do; it isn't so dissimilar from dancing. She looks to Guts. )

Do you know how to float with Craft? You might be a better instructor than me.

[garmr]

[He watches Sansa rise up into the air with a slight raise of his own eyebrows. Even with all he'd seen back home, that still takes some getting used to. Magic was never really his thing - he didn't even consider it possible for the majority of his life.

Guts opts to keep his boots firmly planted on the ground. He can catch any accidental falling children before their heads hit the floor, he supposes. Sansa's display of Craft does even seem to get the nosy girls off him to attempt to mimic their new teacher.]

Looks like you got a hang of it.

[theladyofwinterfell]

Ah, yes, but that took some doing. I'll never be as good at Craft as these little ones are. That's all right, though, because I have plenty of helpers.

( The children seem excited and all clamor to float and land, sometimes crashing into one another in the process. Sansa looks to Guts, amused. )

I think we found something to pass the time at least.

[garmr]

[The floating class seems to even lift some of the brooding severity from Guts' face. The sight of it all felt too ridiculous to take so seriously.

It was oddly peaceful, even with the occasional child tumbling his way through the air. It was simple enough to grab them by the shirt to avoid any particularly nasty collisions. At least his reflexes were good for something here, he supposes.]

Loren mentioned your name was Sansa, wasn't it?

[theladyofwinterfell]

Yes, my name is Sansa. It's a pleasure to meet you, even if it's under slightly stressful circumstances. I don't know if I'll ever get used to Craft.

( It's lovely to watch the children tumbling and playing, yes, but the convenience of magic is something that Sansa feels she'll never find second nature. )

[garmr]

[Guts gives back a simple grunt of acknowledgment. For all of Sansa's uncertainty, she had still managed to transform a room of chaotic children into a somewhat focused magic lesson. All he had to do was stay out of the way and not talk about killing people. He could do that. ]

You never know. Just keep layin' down the groundwork every day, right?

[If any lessons from swordplay could be applicable, it was that. Though there is one cheeky little girl floating past him that adds: 'Wouldn't you be laying it up?']

[theladyofwinterfell]

( Sansa laughs at the cheeky girl, enjoying the levity. She enjoys watching children play and be happy - it reminds her so much of better times back home and things she thought she might never see again. This place may end up being solace as much as work for the Queen. )

Thank you for helping me. I know we were conscripted, of a sort, but I'm grateful to have someone else here. I would be far too intimidated alone.

[garmr]

...Sure. Don't think too much of it.

[Like she said, they were pretty much conscripted. Nothing about this was personal. Even then, Guts can't deny the the effect on him, despite this being not quite what he expected when the Queen asked for help. Turns out regular sleep did wonders for the mood.

He sits down, resting his boots up on the front desk to get a look at what else they were given. The sword is propped up next to him, and he starts to peruse through some of the compartments with his good hand.]

They got food in here for when for when the kids get bored.

[theladyofwinterfell]

Ah, yes, snacks will probably have to go out soon if Lady Sheera doesn't get here. That will at least take the focus off learning things we don't know how to teach them for a little while.

( Sansa gives him a smile at that, glad she has a partner in this no matter how unwilling or unlikely. )

I couldn't imagine handling them all alone.