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agentleooc2019-01-03 11:30 am
thestewards) wrote in agentleooc2019-01-03 11:30 am
test drive 01
So you can feel stronger, you can know peace
► 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.
► Feel free to switch up your character's Jewel from thread to thread. Get a feel for how a Birthright Jewel may limit or enchance your character's abilities.
► 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.
► Feel free to switch up your character's Jewel from thread to thread. Get a feel for how a Birthright Jewel may limit or enchance your character's abilities.
GOOD MORNING, DRAEGA
The psychic summons comes with the first light of dawn, waking you from a dream of home. It takes you a minute to remember where you are (a warm, comfortable room in Queen Fayura's residence) and then a moment longer to parse the words.
*Your presence is requested in the training field behind the Queen's Residence. You have ten minutes to get your ass out of bed on your own, or ten minutes to decide you want to be up to your neck in ice-cold mountain water. Your choice.* Gray power flavors the voice. Ah, you recognize that psychic touch. Allairavar, the Master of the Guard.
You remember, too, that he warned the household at last night's supper: if you live in the Queen's Residence, you practice with the Queen's court. You…
i. Drag yourself out of bed with an aching groan, dress with the bleary-eyed confusion of one too suddenly forced awake, and amble onto the training field to avoid the promise of a much more shocking wake up call. Or maybe you make your way quickly with a skip in your step and a twinkle in your eye. You haven't realized yet that Allairavar does not like morning people. Even so, you don't want to get dunked in ice water in the middle of winter.
ii. Roll over and go back to sleep. The Master of the Guard isn't really going to carry through with his threat. In your defense, he doesn't. But one of the First Circle does. You're not sure how you got from your room to a large barrel full of water that could freeze open flame, but here you are, soaked and shivering and very much awake.
Regardless of how you get to the training field, Allairavar pairs you with another Stranger and puts you through your paces. It's barely above freezing, but you're going to need a shower when you're done.
BUILD BETTER BOMBS
There are three rows of four tables set up in the Tinker Guild Hall's auditorium, all heavy laden with materials. Bits of wires, buttons both small and large, ticking clocks. A tank full of goldfish. Sand, canisters of gasses, a strange viscous liquid in a bowl of lead.
"Handle that with gloves," Master Tinker Mari warns you with a wink and a grin. "The bowl, I mean. Don't handle the liquid or you'll lose your hand." She waves her hands at you.
This is supposed to be a crash course in bomb making, and in a way it is. Master Tinker Mari crashes into person after person, pushing them into pairs. She shoves someone up to you. "Blow my mind!" she whispers dramatically, and then she vaults the table, making something in a vial smoke, bubble, and pop.
Around the edge of the auditorium are four chalkboards, each with several diagrams on them. Presumably, these are schematics for you to follow. Smoke bombs, flour bombs. Fireworks and sparklers. Water bombs—maybe she means water balloons? One schematic requires a hamster wheel.
You might as well give it a go.
Note: Master Tinker Mari won't let anyone blow themselves up (or blow up the building). In the event Strangers make something truly dangerous and not just inconvenient, she will hurry over with a much more serious demeanor and disarm the bomb they've created with a suggestion that they take her advanced course.
CHARITY IS AS CHARITY DOES
You were sent here to help, so help you have: by letting the Ebon Council auction off three hours of your time and the power in your Jewels to help with local troubles. Maybe someone's cold box has lost its cooling spell—that's basic Craft and you can help with that—or maybe someone needs you to fetch their cat down from a tree. Whatever it is, you're here to take care of it.
The stage you stand on creaks beneath your feet as a polite older witch bids on you and your partner (the Ebon Council would never let you work alone, no, the landens are too dangerous for you to be out on your own!) with three jars of pear preserves. No money exchanges hands here, just items like non-perishable foods and handmade clothing or blankets.
You'll help the little old witch who needs some rocks moved from the fields just outside Draega's walls, but it occurs to you that only the Blood were at this auction, and only they will reap the rewards. That's hardly charity… but that's also not your problem, is it? Maybe it is. You could always ask that landen couple hovering just to the side of the stage what they need (their roof is leaking, and the man's right hand is crippled, twisted into a rigid claw). Or maybe you won't. They don't have anything to offer, and everything has a price, even your time.
HIT AND RUN
Chill winter air doesn't keep anyone inside in Draega. Stalls line the streets of the Old Town Bazaar, and vendors hawk their curious wares. Blood and landen mingle here, each a little wary of the other but with the affect of those who have accepted they must live alongside their enemy. Expressions are shuttered, but marks are marks no matter who hands them over. No shopkeeper denies a customer just because the money comes from someone they don't like, not in times like these.
As you make your way through the Bazaar, perhaps in search of something or someone or a place to eat (the scent of meat pies is thick in the air), you hear a shout and a cry of pain. People peel back as one, revealing a group of young landen men carrying clubs and wearing cruel sneers. At their feet, a young boy sprawls across a puppy in the muddy slush that covers the road.
You catch the flavor of his psychic scent: he's half-Blood, one of those pitiable creatures accepted by neither the Blood or the landens.
"Y-you can't hurt him!" the little boy cries, curling around the puppy. "P-Prince Verim will stop you!"
The young men laugh. "Prince Verim isn't here," one spits, raising his club.
You could step back. After all, this isn't your problem. You could just alert the First Circle and call it done; they patrol the area, one of those males will surely be here soon. Or you could step in. Everything has a price, and the price of attacking a helpless child and a puppy is a tussle with you.
WALKIE-TALKIE
Catch up with a new acquaintance you met at the Queen's Residence or simply pause to listen to the news playing in a store you're passing through. Far-casters come in all shapes and sizes, from the held-held device that's a bit clunky to the radios that stand at a man's height in some restaurants. If you're spinning the dial and listening to some radio programs, you'll hear…
etiquette with evandra and aren.
[A woman's voice leads. It's a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] …just as well. Since you don't want to die for offending a Warlord Prince's lady, what do you do, Lord Aren?
[A man's voice, chipper and bright. He sounds more like an eager boy than the full-grown man he is.] Apologize immediately to her, but meet his gaze so he knows the apology is for him as well. Remember, dear listeners: a Warlord Prince's lady may be all that stands between you and a violent end. Make sure she likes you!
[The woman laughs.] Or at least doesn't think killing you is worth the trouble. If we all learn a little more about each other, we can learn to live together. As always, I'm Evandra.
[With great gusto, Lord Aren says:] I'm Aren, and you've been listening to…
[Together:] Etiquette with Evandra and Aren! [Jaunty outro music plays, a complete tonal dissonance with the fact that the two were just educating landens on how to avoid murder.]
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.] …rain tomorrow with overcast skies through the morning and afternoon. Landen weather devices indicate a decrease in sky-pressure, so those of you who suffer from migraines may want to talk to your Healers or Medicos now.
There's possibility of snow later in the week from the northwest. Questions about snow removal? Reach out to your local Transport Guild rep or your Ebon Council chairperson.
the news
…Blood family of four found murdered in their homes. The Queen's Court assures Draega that no payment for the murders is being asked for at this time. [The man speaks at a brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.]
That's right, Garret. [Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn't sound rushed so much as put upon.] Preliminary investigations do indicate the Hunter Guild may be responsible for the deaths.
[Garret:] Indeed they do, Wilt. Evidence at the scene supports the use of Breakers on the family. Turning now from the grisly murder to the surprising way the Queen's Winsol gift to the city is being used to benefit both Blood and landens.
no subject
going as far to say a polite 'thank you' for the trainer, zita grips the sword the way she had seen the swordeaters grip it during their performance and can now only hope for the best. ]
First to get a hit on the other, perhaps? [ preferably one that won't draw blood? ]
no subject
[ If she had some of her mentor's power, maybe she could have dulled the blade. Sen eyes the sword in her hand and picks up the hem of her shirt, touching it to the edge of the sword. It remains uncut, so she can be sure of it not being hideously sharp, at least. ]
Here goes....
[ In an obviously slowed-down motion, she lifts the sword and tries to poke it in Zita's direction. ]
no subject
it works, in a way. certainly keeps the sword from hitting her. but between the sword hitting hers and her poor grip on the handle, it isn't long before zita loses her grip on the weapon and it tumbles to the floor. ]
I'm sorry-! Excuse me, I'll just-
[ the trainer sighs, but stays where they are and continue to observe the two, waiting for one of them to deal the first blow as agreed upon. ]
no subject
Hey, it's okay. One step at a time.
[ Hopefully she sounds reassuring enough. She'll leave her sword on the ground for now, since it seems like the issue is that Zita doesn't know how to handle her weapon that well. ]
Is it too heavy?
no subject
Yes. [ she's quick to set hers on the ground, following her partner's actions and taking the time to rub her wrists. I'm not- I'm not used to this sort of physical activity. ] The most I'll do back home is maybe carrying some boxes to my booth to resupply stock.
[ strong emphasis of maybe.
the boxes were usually taken by some other members of the carnival who wanted to help her out, so- ] Is there a way to hold it properly? This certainly isn't like the swords back at the carnival.
no subject
There is, but I don't see the point in continuing since the sword really doesn't fit you.
[ Turning towards the trainer again, a firmness to her voice that she doesn't wear when talking to Zita: ]
I do think you need to give us more suitable tools if you want us to use physical force. Like a pole or something. We aren't going to be masters at stuff that's completely new.
no subject
finally, the trainer sighs and nods. they turn and head towards the direction of where they must keep the weapons. hopefully it'll be something a bit lighter and easier on the wrists.
when the trainer is out of range of hearing them, zita turns to sen and says a grateful, ] Thank you.
I wasn't sure how to bring that issue up with anyone about that. The trainers here seem determined to- [ zita pauses. she's always been careful of her words. more so in this situation, where she's new and alien to the residents of this place.
finally, she settles with this: ] -to help us. Hence the insistence of training and watching over us. One can never be too careful in sessions like these.
no subject
Don't worry about it. I wouldn't want you to be pressed into something that you're not suited to.
[ Zita is more cautious than her, by a mile. But then again, Sen has always had that outspoken streak in her. There's no reason to abandon what she's lived by just because they're in a new region. She folds her arms now, looking thoughtful. ]
While it is tactically advantageous to get us to adjust to them... they'll also have to adjust to us too, I think.
no subject
From what I've seen of the others here so far, they are all... very different. Determined in their own way, but very different.
[ in a way, the energy of the group and that atmosphere it brings makes her think of the carnival, makes her recall those who live within its tents and acts with fondness and concern. that has her smile becoming tinged with a bit of homesickness, as she wonders how the others are doing now that she isn't there.
but- she was here for a reason. no sense for her to dwell on worries and uncertainties she can't do anything about. ]
In the end, I just hope we can all work together. We're not enemies to each other, after all.
no subject
I hope so.
[ Her cheer dampens, but only a little; to resolve into determination. They are all strangers here, in both senses of the word. Nothing like the unity of the demon coalition, those who did not answer to each other, but were all bound to the Earth. ]
I'll do my best and things'll work out.
[ They have to. She'll make it. ]
If you need a friend or a second perspective, I'm here to help.
no subject
[ for a few seconds, zita can only stare at the woman and simply... blink, seemingly surprised and stunned by her last words.
is she not used to this...?
but she's quick to regain her composure and to roll with what is happening. zita shakes her head as if to snap out of her thoughts, whatever they are, and she gives an appreciative smile and grateful glance. ]
Would you consider me too greedy for hoping both?
I admit I- [ how to word this? ] I think I'm the only one from my world who is here. I've been hoping for others to arrive but, alas, it seems I'm the only soul. It's a little lonely, in a way.
[ she's just gotten used to everyone in the carnival and everything in it, too. never know what you'll miss the most until it's gone, she supposes. ]
sorry for the delay, I got caught up with some RL stuff
[ Humans are social creatures. Demons less so, but Sen's never really been able to let go of who she once was, all those years ago. ]
We'll need everything we have to survive here. [ And to return home after fulfiling their mission. The reality of everything is still settling in, for her.
Lucky that she's always been some kind of a lone wolf, eh? ]
I'll help.
hope the rl stuff wasn't too stressful for you! :>
this certainly isn't what she thought would happen when she made herself head towards the training grounds, steeling herself for the inevitable sore back and tired muscles.
maybe being in the new world won't be too harrowing after all. ]
I'll help you in return. It's the least I can do for an acquaintance of mine.
[ ooc; we can end it here, if you want. so we can focus on more current threads! :> ]