agentleooc | test drive 01

Entry tags:

!modpost,
!tdm

test drive 01

'Cause I have these new fears I carry with me
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.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. CHARITY IS

[ Back home, an English upper class lady's idea of charity is attending a benefit garden party or helping to run a bake sale. Here, apparently, it involves being auctioned off like cattle to the person who has the most figs. Mary tries not too look too annoyed by the whole proceedings. They are here to help.

After the older witch gives instructions about moving rocks and wanders off back into her house, Mary huffs and looks at the stack around she and her partner. ] She could not do this herself? [ The woman is indeed old, but she has magic. As if Mary is about to stoop down and pick up all of these rocks when she herself has magic now. ]

Surely we can figure out a spell that will levitate these rocks. Hopefully we can make quick work of it.

II. HIT AND RUN

[ Exploring the market leaves Mary feeling a bit depressed. There are so many fine goods available, and, having newly arrived, Mary hasn't got much money to spend. She purchases a meat pie at least and is about to eat it when she hears the commotion in the street.

The young boy manages to tug at her heartstrings. Perhaps it is because she has her own much younger son at home who often plays with the puppy that her family had given to her father. Whatever it is, Mary finds herself drawn in, used to using her influence back home, even though she has none here. ]

Is there a problem here, gentlemen?

[ Mary notices that someone else from the crowd has stepped up next to her. She hopes that it's to help and not to make matters worse. ]

III. WALKIE TALKIE

[ The wireless is a curious thing here. Mary hopes to be able to invest in her own personal one soon, but for now she will have to make do when she's out in public. She's in a small cafe, having some tea and listening to Etiquette with Evandra and Aren. She huffs a little laugh as the program ends on such a cheery note after speaking of such grave matters. Mary turns to the person at the table next to her's, who appears to also have been listening. ]

If only the wireless programs at home were so blunt.

[ Not that any Duke or Earl back home would probably have someone killed over an offense, but people probably did need such practical knowledge about how to react in certain situations. Better to be told than to learn the hard way. ]

IV. WILDCARD

[ Interested in something else? Send a PM and we can discuss! ]

[Stone surveys the field with what looks like mild impatience, hands on his hips.]

Or I could just pluck all the rocks up and throw them across the wall. It wouldn't take long.

[Wanna get your mind blown, Mary? Your partner might currently look like a tall, gangly old man with skin as gray as his hair and one blind eye, but give him an excuse, and he'll turn into something else entirely. Something much bigger. Clearing a field of rocks sounds like a good excuse, to him.]

[ Mary shrugs. ]

Why bend over and exert that much energy when we can do it with magic?

[ Based on the other man's appearance, Mary figures that it might be easier for him to use magic as well. He looks like a strong wind could blow him over. ]

[Stone smiles over at her a little bit.]

Because I don't always look like this. Don't scream, all right?

[And then he simply disappears in a cloud of dark mist, which hovers for about a second, then rapidly expands and reforms into a large, black creature with wings, scales, a tail, and the impression of a lot of spines bristling around a somewhat blurry head.]

[ Mary is obviously still startled, but at least she had warning. In a land of magical jewels, seeing a dragon isn't completely beyond the scope of belief. She stares up at him, eyes wide. ]

T-That's just using a different kind of magic if you ask me.

[A Lady is not merely one by title, but by deed. He does not need to know who Mary is to see the nobility in her. So Henry steps forward, stopping just a fraction behind her to make it appear as though he is at her command. Though he says nothing, he purposely rests a hand on the pommel of his sword — clearly a possession that arrived with him — shifting his stance, ready to spring into action at any moment.

The thug with his club raised hesitates but doesn't back down, the others stirring restlessly. One among them calls out]

Might be.

[In a brash threat. The boy whimpers but continues to cling to the dog. Mary has an opening to talk them down, but it still may snap into violence. The tense air is volatile.

If it does, Henry means to act first.]

[ Mary can sense the presence of the other man behind her and can also sense that he is one of the Blood. She feels braver with him at her back. ]

Surely not. What harm could a young boy and a dog cause men such as you?

[ She looks into the faces of the group of men, her back straight and head held high. ]

[Many of the landen men cannot meet her eyes, and feeling the oppressive of Mary's psychic power quickly disperse. No all do, however, and it infuriates the few men too foolish to retreat.]

What's a few less mutts in the world?!

[The one with the club sneers as he hefts his weapon and swings it down. Henry darts forward, drawing his sword, and extends his empty left hand to meet the descending club as the boy cries out in fear. Channelling his own native power — his nemesis shield — through his jewel, the instant the club makes contact with his hand it hits a solid, unseen shield and cracks under the force of its own power turned back on it. In that same moment the attacker is stunned, and Henry uses that familiar opening to drive the pommel of his sword hard into the man's jaw. The man crashes to the ground unconscious.

Glancing over his shoulder at the boy, he quickly orders:]

Go to the Lady's side!

[He returns his attention to the remaining two landens, who jerk forward in a panic. If they are wise, they will grab their friend and leave. If not, he has no qualms teaching them a painful lesson.

Without turning, he says to Mary:]

These curs are beneath you. Allow me!

[Her jewel is greater than his; she doesn't need his help. But Hotspur would never sit idle.]

[ After learning how fragile relationships between the Blood and landen were, her intent here was not to cause incident. It seems that her partner has taken a different approach.

The boy runs to Mary, clutching his puppy and hugging her leg. She puts her hand on his back.

She's not used to using her jewel yet and would never think that she could be stronger than Henry, so she's content to let him take on this group of fools. Mary is able to help though. She uses her jewel to put a field of protection around Henry, so that when his opponents strike, they will not be able to hit him. ]

[Henry can feel her power encase him like gossamer armour, stronger than his fine steel plate.

One of the thugs swings at him and Henry steps offline, avoiding the blow, before lunging forward and driving his pommel into the back of the thug's skull. The man falls to his knees with a cry, concussed and out of the fight. The second thug attacks from the side and Henry chooses to trust in Mary's shield, letting the hit glance him to no effect. He grabs the man's club near the grip, twists sharply and throws the second thug to the floor over his hip, smoothly disarming him in the same motion. Following down, a single strike from his armoured fist knocks that man out too.

In Henry's eyes it's merciful. They'll have headaches for a day or two, bruising for a little longer, but no permanent or even significant harm has been done. Whether they will agree, or indeed, the crowds in the bazaar do is another matter.

With them taken care of, Henry straightens up, sheathes his sword and walks over to Mary. Understanding the need to appear civilised after making a scene, he kneels before her with knightly form. Let her make pronouncement.]

[ His skills are impressive, and Mary has to fight to keep herself from being distracted and letting her shield of protection slip. She's not used to holding it for so long, and it requires more concentration than she realizes.

When all of the men are on the ground and Henry knees before her, she realizes that all of the onlookers on the street are staring at them incredulously. She suddenly feels a bit embarrassed. ]

Ah... nothing more to see, then. Everyone may be on their way.

[ As the crowd disperses, Mary crouches down to look at the boy with his puppy. ]

Are you alright?

[It is both what Henry hoped Mary would do, and a misjudgement on his part — the crowd did not see her discomfort but this close he cannot miss it. He merely intended to make a show of being a sheathed blade, doing his part to emphasise the reassurance Mary offers onlookers.

Once the people around them return to their business, Henry rises back to his feet. Listening in as Mary addresses the boy, he keeps a keen watch on their surroundings.

The boy, clinging to the puppy, gives Mary a look that is equal parts wary and shy, flicking his eyes between her and his small companion.]

'Mfine...

[The boy mumbles, despite having fresh scrapes and bruises.]

We ought to see him home. [Henry says to Mary.]

Edited 2019-01-08 22:38 (UTC)

[ Mary nods. ] Will you show us to your home?

[ The boy also nods in reply and starts down the street ahead of them. Mary turns to Henry as the two of them follow him. ]

I hope we haven't caused an incident between the Blood and landens. [ She's aware that there are tensions between the groups, though Mary also thinks that what she and Henry did was absolutely right. ]

[It is, in all likelihood, a wise concern. Politics have never been a particular strength of Henry's. He is a far better warrior than courtier, lacking the right temperament for the latter, and he knows it.

He huffs a short breath.]

The native Blood maim and kill as they please. [Or so he has heard. His disdain for the lack of laws against murder resounds in his tone.] So what cause could the landen have for complaint?

[And yet he looks to Mary, watching her closely. Expectantly, even — if she fears consequences then he will listen and at least weigh what she has to say.]

[ Mary would not let the boy have gotten hurt. They did the right thing by him. She just wished it hadn't been as violent as it was. Unfortunately, the men seemed set in their actions and so they had to respond. ]

I know that the factions have a tentative relationship at best. Things are strained. I'm sure you or I would feel similarly threatened if people around us had powerful magic and we did not.

[ Having lived all of her life before now without it, she knows exactly how that feels. ]

I suppose.

[Henry concedes, before looking from Mary to the child with his puppy.]

...A pity that the boy must suffer for the circumstances of his birth.

[Bastards are not uncommon whence he comes but even they are not reviled.]

Is that not the same where you come from?

[ She does not realize that the child is a bastard, per say, just that he appears to be a mix of both Blood and landen. Unfortunately, that probably means that he does not truly fit in in either world. That must be difficult for him, though she knows that England in 1924 wouldn't be much better for the boy if he was a mix of two races. ]

[It is less that the boy is an actual bastard and more than Henry, being feudal, frames the relationship between the Blood and the landen akin to that of the nobility and the peasantry. He would not be surprised if all relationships between Blood and landen are considered illegitimate by this society though. Whether he knows or particularly cares that they are of separate races is unclear.]

To that extent? I should hope not. [He sets his hands on his hip.] Whence came you to find such wretchedness a likely occurrence?

[ Mary raises an eyebrow. ] Yorkshire, England. 1924.

[ By his accent and manner of speech, Mary can tell that this man is English as well, though from a much earlier time than hers. She cannot pinpoint it directly. Either way, she's surprised that he seems so taken aback by what she's said. ]

Many people who are poor must suffer for the circumstances of their birth. Similarly, people who might be of mixed race. They might feel as though they do not belong anywhere because they can never fully belong with either group.

What say you...?

[For a moment Henry is shocked by her words. Surely England has not fallen so far. The alternative is that he must have misunderstood her — it would be untoward to accuse a Lady of such. And he would rather believe it an error of his than the abandonment of honour by future generations of Englishmen.

He dips his head, then shakes it.]

Of course. I deny not that they face cruel hardships. Evidently I misspoke. But a band of men armed with clubs attacking a child... That menace I have not seen outside of the worst of war.

[Scots raiding on the border, the chevauchée he saw as a young page.]

I think we misunderstood each other. [ She will admit it, even if he does not feel comfortable enough to. ] Such a specific act would be condemned in my time and not tolerated. I merely meant that the sentiment behind it is unfortunately still quite common.

[ Mary turns her gaze back towards Henry. ]

Are you from England? What year was it for you?

[That is a relief for him to hear. Henry nods in acknowledgement.]

I am. Northumberland. [He says it with a quirk of his mouth.] Though I am very familiar with Yorkshire. 'Twas the year 1391 of Our Lord.

[Straightening up, his posture proud, he holds Mary's eyes with his and continues:]

My Lady, allow me to introduce myself. Sir Henry Percy. Hotspur, if you prefer.

[Both names are equally his; he does not care which people decide to use.]

The very same? [ Mary laughs lightly and grins. ] How fascinating. Your name precedes you, my Lord.

[ She offers him her hand in greeting. ] My name is Lady Mary Crawley. My father is the Earl of Grantham.

[ Her father's Earldom didn't exist back then, but she feels like she ought to give Henry a frame of reference anyway. ]

[Her recognition earns a smile from him: quick and lively, a stark contrast from his prior severity.

Henry lightly clasps her hand, bowing at the waist. He presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles.]

Lady Mary.

[He does not recognise the name Crawley, nor that particular Earldom, but he would not deem those facts significant; titles die out and new houses arise throughout history. If she is the daughter of an Earl then that makes her his social equal.

He straightens up, releasing her hand.]

'Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[Truthfully, it could have been under better circumstances. Yet at least it was not worse: the half-Blood boy and his puppy are safe and hale for now. That is a small victory.]

[ She smiles at the way he kisses her hand, so pleased to be meeting a real knight. If only Shakespeare had been kinder to him. He seems like a lovely man. ]

The pleasure is mine. How interesting that we should meet in this foreign place.

[ Their introduction is broken up a bit as the boy arrives at his house. The two of them see him safely inside before turning to head back to the market. ]

test drive 01

Mary Crawley | Downton Abbey | Opal Jewel

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