agentleooc | 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

[ Telekinesis, and very good control too? Impressive.

Davina doesn't actually do any more than that, shrugging her shoulders as she crouches down to pick up her fallen dagger. If he's too intimated by magic (or is it frightened, given the expression that briefly flashed across his face?), then there's no point in training with him using it. ]

C'mon, I wasn't actually going to burn you alive. [ Didn't they say something about killing people? She wasn't paying attention to whatever they were saying last time, far too busy studying the Jewel they gave her. ] Though I wouldn't mind it, given how cold this place is.

[ less fear, more discomfort.....and, yeah, distrust. though he's not too thrilled whenever it comes to training with hecate cabin, either. lou ellen and her siblings are cool, but he's just as happy never being turned into a random animal again, thanks.

also, davina's comments are super reassuring. ]

Gee, [ he says in a grumble, ] thanks. I'm so glad you wouldn't mind killing me if it'd keep you warm.

[ truthfully, he's way more annoyed than worried by her assessment. ]

Are you from somewhere warmer?

[ not that it isn't, objectively, pretty cold. but now he's sort of curious. ]

I'm kidding, I'm kidding. [ Davina lets out a laugh, shaking her head. But her words of reassurance are probably too late already, given his look of annoyance.

Still, it's rather refreshing being in the company of people close to her age again. She's honestly forgotten how it feels like, seeing that most of the people she used to hang out with are adults.

She remains crouched on ground for a minute longer before she finally gets up, shaking the chill that's settled in her body. ]

I'm from New Orleans. You?

[ KIDDING, SHE SAYS -- but he relents a little, some of that irritation fading with her laugh. ]

I have a friend from there. [ sort of. he met hazel at camp jupiter in california, and she lived in alaska before that, but her hometown was new orleans. ] I've, uh, never been there though. I'm from Manhattan.

It's fine, I've never been to Manhattan either. [ Though she definitely wants to go there someday. ] Was born, raised, killed and brought back to life in New Orleans.

[ She says that with nonchalance as she unsheaths the dagger once more, testing out its point. A moment later, Davina glances over her shoulder to their prickly drill leader or whatever, wondering if she can keep this for future use. ]

So, are you a witch as well? Since you have that sword and you can do telekinesis.

[ percy blinks -- born and raised is normal, but killed and brought back to life definitely isn't. ]

Uh, wow.

[ but, notably, he believes her. funnily, his friend from new orleans has a similar story, at least sort of. hazel had died in alaska, been brought back to life several decades later by nico di angelo, a fellow child of hades. (pluto, in her case. whatever.)

he really hopes this isn't, like, normal for new orleans.

he lowers his sword as they talk, as davina messes with the dagger -- but clearly doesn't try to fight any longer. ]

A witch? No. I'm...

[ he hesitates. he's not really in the habit of blurting out my dad's a greek god! but he kind of showed his hand there with using his power. besides, she clearly isn't just a regular mortal. ]

Uh. I'm a half-blood. [ a pause, then he clarifies. ] A demigod.

[ Davina pauses when he says half-blood and almost immediately, her eyes narrow. There's only one kind of "half-blood" she's familiar with and honestly? She doesn't want to deal with Klaus Mikaelson v2.0 in a place that agreed to kill him for her.

But it seems that she may have jumped to conclusions too quickly, blinking confusedly with what he says after. ]

A demigod, [ she repeats that as if the word is totally new to her. Which it is. She's heard of hybrids and "tribrids" but demigods? She's only heard of it back at school while during English class. ] Like the child of a human and a god?

[ at least she does remember from english class. which had, honestly, more or less been his association too -- back before he found out his life is the stuff of myths. ]

Yeah, exactly like that. [ since he's curious: ] Were you born a witch or was that, like...a life choice?

[ Seeing that all she wanted before was to go back to school and abandon the witch life ... Davina snorts, shaking her head. She wishes it was a life choice and while she would've happily embraced it, circumstances made it difficult for her to initially accept it. ]

Born a witch. My family's been in the witch business for a very long time that I can't really get away.

[ So long that her not!boyfriend also dated her ancestor. It was weird, to say the least. ] So your parent really is a god, right? Like— [ she waves her hand. ] Lightning and storms and all that?

[ And not vampires or werewolves, since she's noticed that humans seem to worship them. ]

[ percy makes a face, sympathetic. he can understand how she feels, at least to some extent. he hadn't asked to be a demigod. he wouldn't wish the life on anyone, and it's always hard to find out that this life if yours whether you want it or not. ]

I know what you mean.

[ having a choice in the matter would probably make it an easier pill to swallow. ]

Unfortunately. Except, for the record? My dad is not Zeus, and I'm not your guy for lightning. [ she'd need to talk to his friend jason grace for that, who's around here, or thalia, who isn't. ] My dad is Poseidon. So, ocean, and horses, and sea storms, and stuff.

[ earthquakes, too. poseidon wears a lot of hats. ]

Edited 2019-01-07 02:37 (UTC)

[ Someone should definitely give them a survey form upon birth: do you want a terrible life growing up, yes or no?

Davina's brows furrow, nodding slowly. Zeus. And Poseidon. Mythological names that bring her back to her days in school, which wasn't too long ago. It's unbelievable, but then she's also a witch and her best friend is a vampire. So she can't exactly say anything. ]

Right, half-naked sea god with the trident. [ ... It's still difficult to imagine it. A beat— ] Oh, so is that how you could control the water in the bucket?

[ percy makes a face at that description. not that people haven't depicted his father that way in art. still, you know. it's his dad. ]

Try more Tommy Bahama than Little Mermaid. [ and then he shrugs. ] Got it in one. Just Poseidon things.

[ She tries to imagine it and to be honest, as someone who's good at painting and the arts, she has a pretty good imagination. It's just that—and it shows on Davina's expression—King Triton in a beach shirt and board shorts is not a really pretty mental image.

But you know what, witches are depicted very unfairly in fiction too so. They're quits. ]

Did your mom know she was dating Poseidon?

test drive 01

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