test drive 01

[thestewards]

'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.

Comments

merlin | fate/

[clairvoyeur]

i. good morning, draega

ACHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

[ the sneeze almost sounds a bit comedically exaggerated as the mage in white huddles in a corner, sniffling loudly as he rubs his own arms for warmth. it's not really... that cold, is it? all the same, the robed young(?) man is all too content to act like he's freezing to death, being as overdramatic as humanly possible. ]

Haha, I'm not really used to this sort of thing... [ usually it's him pranking others like this, not the other way around, but he'll wisely keep that to himself. ] You know, splashing people with cold water is a pretty common trope... but it's kind of weird when you really think about it, isn't it? You might succeed at waking someone up, but you give them hypothermia in the process... that doesn't really seem like a good trade.

[ never mind the training or whatever it is they're actually supposed to be doing, he's content to just continue rambling aimlessly unless someone interrupts him... ]

ii. hit and run

[ merlin has more or less observed this entire confrontation from the beginning, watching with a mix of curiosity and boredom at the senseless violence. sure, interfering wouldn't be particularly difficult - bullies like this are never really that impressive when actually put to the test.

but why would bother?

no, he's more than happy to just see how this plays out. his role has always been more observer than interloper... though that doesn't stop him from commenting to anyone nearby. ]

That boy's rather brave, isn't he? It'd be a shame if such a young hero met his end in a place like this.

[ though he does seem genuinely concerned... his tone also seems entirely detached, as if the possibility of actually getting involved doesn't even occur to him. ]

iii. wild card

[ you know how this one works. ]

[consecrates]

[ she's really only just arrived at the scene, brought in by the shrill voice that rings in the air. and what she sees, well—it's clear on her expression that she's not too happy about it. nor is she too happy about everyone else either walking past it or watching it like a spectacle. though perhaps, after learning the rules in this new place, it's understandable that they're not interested in getting involved.

Davina frowns at the other person's remark, turning her attention from the boy to him. if there's one thing she hates, it's bullies. and people who don't do anything are just as bad. ]

It's more of a shame that no one's helping.

[ her gaze flickers back at the boy and his bullies before she mutters a spell under her breath, flicking her wrist under her cloak. almost immediately, the club carried by one of the young men jumps out of his hand and hits him in the face, knocking him back.

laughter erupts all around them while Davina hides her hand once more. ]

[clairvoyeur]

[ aha, now this is what he'd been waiting for. in a situation like this... it was inevitable that someone would intervene eventually, wasn't it? well, no, there was always a possibility that no one would, and the child would have met a rather untimely demise... but that was a risk he'd been willing to take in order to see who would step up. ]

A shame indeed.

[ though most seem rather confused by exactly what's happened, merlin can't suppress a wry smile as he glances at the young girl. ]

But getting involved with something like this can get pretty dangerous!

[ he says that last bit a little too loudly... though whether that was on purpose or not, who knows. either way, the ruffians definitely overhear him, and draw conclusions accordingly. their eyes move to him, than to the girl he seems to be talking to, then back to him. they may not understand exactly what happened... but its clear they've jumped to the conclusion that they're responsible. whoops? ]

[consecrates]

Wait, what— [ it takes her a full minute to realise what just happened, her look of surprise and annoyance moving from the man to the bullies in question. dangerous is an understatement to describe their—or is it just her?—circumstances, their newfound friends slowly advancing towards them, clubs raised. Davina, however, isn't fazed, just looking very much irritated at this sudden development. and of course, at her unknown "companion". ]

Really? You're turning on us just because you stupidly dropped your stick in your face?

[ she sighs, rolling her eyes while hiding her hand behind her back. another flick of her wrist, and the same thing happens to the other landen bully, the club hitting him square in the nose. ]

[clairvoyeur]

[ well, once might have been a coincidence, but twice? the oddness of what's happened is enough to give club wielders some pause, though they definitely seem to be wising up to the fact that someone is causing this. ]

Haha, look at that! They did it again. You guys really need to get a better handle on those things, or someone might get hurt.

[ ...merlin's comments aren't really helping to de-escalate things either. if there's any solace to be found, it's in the fact that the young boy's at least taken the distraction to take the puppy and get some distance. ]

So, do you have any more tricks? [ merlin's eyes seem genuinely delighted as he turns to davina to ask; though he's definitely in danger of immediate bodily harm as well, he doesn't really seem to think much of it. ]

[consecrates]

[ definitely not helping! (but she's at least inwardly glad that the boy got away.)

Davina throws a pointed look at Merlin, to keep his big mouth shut before they get into trouble they were not supposed to be in in the first place, forcing a polite, unassuming smile on her face. not very convincing either, that expression of hers. ]

I'm not really sure what you meant by "tricks"— [ the landen men, however, have already made up their minds and makes a grab for her arm, most likely to demand what she's been doing. in response, Davina hurls a hand out, palm turned outwards, and tosses the man across the street with her magic, knocking him against the wall. the rest of the group looks at her in surprise and apprehension.

dammit. ]

[clairvoyeur]

Hm, I suppose you have a point. That wasn't really something you can call a "trick" anymore.

[ rather than dissuading the men, however, they all just appear to be more incensed now. in their minds, this has changed from simple intimidation to an actual brawl - something they're more than familiar with. more clubs come out, as some of the men who had been hit earlier seem to have recovered and want payback. ]

Don't worry though. Tricks happen to be my specialty.

[ the space around them seems to distort for a bit, before mirror images of the both of them begin to appear... well... everywhere, actually. the bazaar is suddenly filled with copies of the two of them, throwing all of the landen thugs into complete disarray. ]

Ha... maybe I overdid it a little.

[consecrates]

[ that's not very comforting.

Davina takes a step back when they brandish more weapons around them. look, she can incapacitate two guys, at most three at the same time, but she honestly doesn't do well fighting a group of thugs. being a witch? means she's just as weak as humans with no magic in terms of physical endurance.

but she stops when she senses the magic flowing around her, the space twisting and warping. a chambre de chasse? no ... ]

Projection magic?

[ at such a large scale too, and all by himself too. she's impressed. ] Is this our cue to run?

[clairvoyeur]

[ his eyes perk up at that last bit. projection? ]

Nothing as fancy as that.

[ the men have already started lunging at the various mirror images, taking wild swings at... nothing, really. every miss just seems to frustrate them, as the various onlookers all around start laughing. ]

Hm, well, running is probably a good idea. I'm not sure how long this thing is going to hold up...

[ he produces his bloodstone from his pocket, a rather plain looking opal, scrutinizing it for a moment... before all at once, the various mirror images blur and distort, then vanish entirely.

siiiigh. ] Just so you know, my stamina's usually better than this.

i

[offtune]

[ this is her opponent...?

look, she doesn't like to be anyone's monkey, either. more than likely, she would want to fight to relieve an itch she's had since arriving here. she never needed much of a reason to fight, but it seems to fulfill two criteria of hers for her to do so, so she has been waiting quite eagerly to stab some bitches.

this one, however, is more bitchboy than bitch proper.

zero steps over, sword in hand, and extends it toward the man shivering theatrically near her feet. ]

I have no idea what the hell you just said. Stand up and fight me properly.

[clairvoyeur]

Eh? Fight you? Is that what we're supposed to do?

[ well, that's clearly what everyone else is doing, but he doesn't seem particularly inclined. he wipes his nose a bit with the sleeve of his robe, before using his staff to push the woman's sword away form his face. ]

That doesn't sound very interesting... I don't think I'd stand a chance in a proper fight. Can I just surrender now?

[ save them both the trouble of going through the motions. ]

[offtune]

[ bold of him to think that's all it takes for her to back down. but... well, he's not entirely wrong. her attention is fixated on the staff, which makes her assume that he's a mage of some sort. in her world, mages are more than capable of fighting, so she isn't entirely sure why he wouldn't just push her weapon away to protect himself. ] Uhh—

[ it throws her off-guard somewhat, even if his cowardly disposition is more than telling if she had actually paid attention to what he was saying in the beginning. despite the sharp of her blade cast in another direction, she still keeps her stance, awkwardly staring down at him. ]

What? [ she breathes, finally. she moves forward and slams her feet against the wall behind him in an unconventional... kabedon. she's leading down, sword put away but her hands are upon her hips, sneering at him. ] You just gonna give up? And you'd consider that more interesting?!

[clairvoyeur]

[ huh, well this is new. he just kind of studies the odd posture, looking down the length of her leg... his gaze perhaps lingering a bit longer than it really has to for him to understand the nature of the situation. ]

There's nothing all that interesting about getting beaten up. I'm not that much of a masochist.

[ he'll just sort of... duck under her leg, trying to escape the horrors of the kabedon, all the while continuing to watch her reactions. she's certainly... lively. ] Besides, who wants to fight when they're all wet and cold?

[offtune]

[ her eye narrows at the lingering stare, not at all a stranger the kinds of looks she tends to get with her attire and general behavior. still, that doesn't mean she remains steadfast in that position. she continues assuming her control over the situation by lowering her feet —

so that her heel is on the upper part of his shoulder, pressing her weight against him when he tries to scurry away. ]

You fight because you're wet and cold, dumbass. [ with a last nudge of her weight, she'll remove her feet from his person, then in a swift movement, helps haul him to a standing position. ] C'mon. [ cue dragging him toward a random direction... who knows what she's brewing. ]

[clairvoyeur]

Now that doesn't really make any sense. If you- ah!

[ well, that's one way to get him to stop talking. he doesn't really resist as he pulls him, and starts dragging him off. while he probably could get out of this... why bother? he tries to feign struggling a bit as if he's actually putting up some resistance, though he clearly isn't. ]

You're pretty forceful, aren't you?

[offtune]

Among other things.

[ said bluntly as she hauls him forward toward the exit. outside of the training field is... well, the unknown. zero hasn't yet acclimated to the new setting and city, but that's not to say she has ever done such, wherever she's gone. in midgard, she knew where to go simply because she's constantly moving, constantly reaching another destination.

she has no destination here — she doesn't have a home to return to, after all. so, then, it becomes a question of whether she's capable of viewing this world as her new one. ]

You're a mage, right? [ judging by his staff. ] Get us out of here.

[ it's an extremely broad demand, and she's well-aware of it. it's up to him to interpret it however he will... ]

[clairvoyeur]

"Other things," huh...

[ the curiosity is obvious in his voice, but he doesn't belabor the point. instead, he doesn't resist much as he continues to be pulled, moving towards... well, it's clear she doesn't have a destination in mind, she just wants out.

he's a little curious about that as well... he'd been brought to the training field magically, but would that actually stop him from leaving too? he hadn't cared enough to find out until now, but maybe it was time to put things to the test. with a glance at his bloodstone, a rather plain looking opal, he can't resist grinning back at zero. ]

Hm, I'm not that great at magic, but I'll see what I can do. [ he clutches his staff, holding it up and tilting his head to the side as he starts to wave the staff around erratically. he looks more like someone pretending to do magic than someone actually doing magic...

suddenly their surroundings distort, and they're somewhere else entirely. ]

Hey, it worked! [ he probably shouldn't sound so surprised. ]

ii

[arrogator]

Yeah, but you're not planning to do shit about it, are you?

[The annoyed voice is coming from behind Merlin and happens to belong to an annoyed looking Mordred. Funny how that works out, right? She's also going to try and drag him by his sleeve over there because the hell if he's going to stand around and watch while she saves the damn kid.]

[clairvoyeur]

[ well, that's not a face he expected to see... or maybe it is. either way, he seems pleasantly surprised as he turns to face the knight of betrayal, though as usual its hard to tell if he's actually surprised or simply feigning it. ]

Haha, me? I'm not really the type to get mixed up in things like this.

[ he places a hand on his chin, almost as if stroking an imaginary beard. ]

If only some gallant hero would come by to save the day...

[arrogator]

[He's the only one here being pleasant about anything because Mordred looks like she wants to put her boot to his flowery ass.]

Don't just stand there, fucking-

[Why is she even bothering? Even if she does drag him over there, he's not going to do anything. Which she just realizes and throws up her hands even more pissed off than she was before.]

You know what? Fine, stay there, I'll deal with you after I deal with this.

[She'll storm over there to go break up the attack on the poor kid and his dog while somebody stands there pontificating with his pretend beard. If he's not going to help out, she'll head back over there once she's done with these idiots. Unless he's gone, then she's going to just be more pissed off about everything.]

oh god this is late

[clairvoyeur]

Oh, you will? How generous of you.

[ he manages to simultaneously sound surprised and... well... like he knew this was how things would play out all along, because he no doubt did. but all the same he simply observes with a smug expression on his face.

at the very least, he doesn't abscond as he watches the brawl? fight? play out. ]

Oh, be careful! There are more of them coming. [ and true to his word, even more of the attackers' friends seem to be running to join them. if only there was someone to back up mordred too... ]

it's fine don't worry!

[arrogator]

[She'll look up from booting someone in the face because this is apparently how she solves problems to see others heading over. Okay, this...might be a problem. Not that she'll admit it, of course. Normally it wouldn't be because Servant mechanics, but for this thread she's only got a Rose jewel and while the first group were all a bunch of lower level ones, she really can't count on that being the case here.]

Don't just stand there commenting on the situation! Try helping out for a change!

[Not that she's really expecting much from him. In fact part of her even hates asking, and she's entirely willing to deal with this on her own if she has to, but him just standing there is pissing her off more than anything else right now.]

i

[verstoned]

[Honestly, this arrangement suits the Miqo'te better-- he really has no interest in fighting before he has managed to have his first meal of the day. Unfortunately, such occurrences have been so common in his life as of late... which is why Rhus has no issue with just not bothering to demand a spar.

He simply yawns widely, as wide as his mouth can go, baring teeth and sharp fangs and releasing breath that smells like fragrant grass and blossoms. He "smoked" earlier before coming out to the training yard. Then he stretches, ears wiggling and tail flailing behind him.]

Aye, well, I'll not judge you if you do catch a cold. But I cant do much about that either without my healer's cane.

[He's just stretching as much as he can, though he would have bent backwards to work the kinks out of his spine if it weren't for the greatsword strapped to his back.]

[clairvoyeur]

[ merlin responds with a rather exasperated sigh... its not like he had any idea this person could have healed him, but he'll still act like he was totally counting on it, and finding out he can't is the worst news he's heard today.

granted, the day's just started. ]

It's okay. I'll survive... [ a pause before a loud, exaggerated sneeze. ] ...probably.

[ he really doesn't even look all that cold at this point, he mostly just intrigued by his new sparring partner. even if he has no intention of actually sparring at any point. ]

[verstoned]

[It might have fooled someone else, but to a person with the kind of ears Rhus has? That sneeze doesn't fool him in the least-- too forced, and entirely lacking in snot to be genuine. Which makes the Miqo'te think that he's being led on.

Or is faced with a drama queen. Either or.]

No one's ever died of a simple cold, I think you've nothin' to be properly afraid of.