Khu Ioduan Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
khuimods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
archishellago2018-05-15 12:03 am
khuimods) wrote in archishellago2018-05-15 12:03 am
Entry tags:
Test Drive Meme #005
KHU IODUAN; TEST DRIVE MEME #005    | |
I. BE A GOOD NEIGHBOUR - Surprise Petsitting?! Success! You've scored a quiet day, and you're just about to settle in for a marathon of your favourite Tears of the Ocean Heart episodes when there's a knock on your door. A very distracted looking Castian is standing there, talking away on his yimo, and beside him, a very fancy Inan on a glitzy harness and leash. "Right, right," the Castian says to whomever he's talking to. "I'm just dropping Ruqhina off at the sitter, I'll be there in ten." Shoving the leash at you, he announces, "Thank you again for agreeing to watch my darling Ruqhina, I really appreciate it. Don't forget to exercise early in the day, she likes eating energy of active people only, I don't want her on a lazy person diet. Did you change your hair, I thought you had blue hair? Well nevermind, I have to get going, I'll be back in a week. Goodbye sweetheart, Daddy misses you already!" And then he's gone. II. DREAMING BRIDGE - Grab Your Apron! The Aifaran government fully supports the Dreaming Bridge with both coin and supplies to take care of newcomer Dreamfolk, but the actually day-to-day operations are left to the site staff themselves. While they have a full complement of volunteers to manage the various aspects -- from cleaning and setting up rooms for new Dreamfolk, to helping new arrivals get used to the city by answering questions and organizing guided tours. "Hey you," an Arybar calls out, motioning with a soup ladle. He's about seven feet tall, with tiger-like striping on his skin. "Come back into the kitchen and help out, would you? We're short-staffed today, and since you're getting three meals a day for free, you can share the load." III. KIRIN RODEO - Place Your Bets! At the end of every month, the Mounted Division of the Sentry holds their skills competition. When they're not on the field, their steeds are often the subject of much admiration from children and more than a few adults. Astride many breeds of kirin, some lithe and fleet, some stockier and stronger, these off-duty officers demonstrate their control and bond over the notoriously strong-willed and intelligent creatures with complicated maneuvers. There's a surprisingly in-depth system for betting on one's favourite to win the various matches, and just about everyone's willing to explain the odds to newcomers. There's only one rule: all proceeds go to funding of the city's charities. (Bragging rights on winning are still yours to keep.) Two bells ring loudly over the crowd - last call for wagers! IV. TALENT IS A MISNOMER - You Didn't Need That Wall Right? There are a lot of Dreamfolk in the city, and all of them are dealing with their own newly gifted Talents in their own ways. Some, especially those who are used to extraordinary abilities from their own worlds, have some idea of how to train on them safely, learning the ins and outs of their new gift. And then you have some whose only exposure to "magic" is through stories, fairy tales, or really entertaining TV, and pointing a finger-gun at a target and saying "boom!" has never actually worked... until now. "Uh," the other Dreamfolk says, staring dumbly at the car-sized hole in the wall, and then glances at you who just happened to be the closest person. "That's... new. Yikes. Should we run? Wait, I've got a better idea--" Cue loud voice and frantic pointing in your direction. "IT WAS THIS ONE! THEY DID IT!" V. THE VERDANT SENTRY - Attention, New Recruits! It's clear that all of the city's law enforcement is handled by the various branches of the Sentry: from Mounted Division handling street patrol, to the Aerial Corps provided airborne support for tactical and rescue operations, to the Nautical Branch undertaking regular sea patrols as the first line of defense along the archipelago's borders. But everyone interested in joining up has to go through their basic training program, and that starts today with a general skills assessment. There's quite a mix of attendees today, spread across nearly every race represented in Aifaran and including other Dreamfolk, but whatever the recruiter is saying is getting lost in the two chatty Igheeri who seem to think they're too good to listen to the standard welcome speech... time to interrupt by signaling the person in charge? Take care of it yourself? Gripe about it to the person in line beside you? VI. WILDCARD - Because You're Not The Boss Of Me Anything else that doesn't fit the above prompts is welcome, just keep it within the game setting please! Applications • Reservations • Taken List • Game Navigation |
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--and spots just beyond his shoulder the white beam of light extending from the end of a Sentry's torch. "...he went this way, you said?" The Sentry, clearly asking for clarification from someone.
"Yes, right after he slashed my trousers clean off!"
The Fool cuts his eyes back to Fitz, and the shock on his face quickly gives way incredulity. Drolly, he asks, "Dare I even ask?" but already he is on his feet with the remnants of his groceries slung over one shoulder. "Come on, this way--before they catch up."
What better way to celebrate their reunion than by fleeing the law together? It seems appropriate.
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"Lead on!"
He tucked what the Fool hadn't taken from his hands under one arm, canting his body to hide his face from the pursuers, and was up from his crouch like a wolf springing to the hunt. The uncertainty had become a joy hot enough to ease the evidence of his advancing age from the corners of his eyes.
I'm not packless here.
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His blood is rushing loudly in his ears by the time he staggers to a stop beside a fire escape leading to a second storey apartment. Catching his breath, the Fool leans against the stairs, an elated little laugh escaping him. "Well, this shall solidify matters for me with the Sentry," he says, and allows himself to share one conspiratorial smirk with Fitz before he rummages about in his pockets in search of his keys. "They are not overly fond of me as is. More's the pity."
His giddy smile fades, and he lets himself gaze at Fitz a moment in silence, searching his face for something. At length, he admits softly, "I never thought I would see you again."
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His dark eyes twitched between the Fool's face and his hands, the warm glow of his gladness still buoyant. I'd worried the same thing felt foolish to confess, when his friend of old looked suddenly so solemn.
"I kept thinking about... what happened," he said instead, eyes searching the Fool's face in turn. "When and how I'd seen you, with... with the rooster crown."
"I think we'll always find each other, Fool. Because you--"
His tongue stalled short of forming the words, 'you're a part of me'.
"You're my friend. Like no one else is. Or even could be, maybe." It felt lame even to his own ears, and he lifted his shoulders.
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Affecting lightness, he says wryly, "Oh good. I should hate to be replaceable," and meets Fitz's eyes again. The smile he wears curls affectionately at its corners, and now that they are safe from the pursuit of the Sentry, there is nothing to stop the Fool from stepping forward and putting his free arm around Fitz's shoulders, embracing him.
(When he draws back, it's surely just a trick of the dim light that brings a glimmer of tears to the corners of his eyes.)
"Come," he says at last, and tugs at Fitz's arm to pull him towards the fire escape. "If we are to be this maudlin, I insist we at least do so in comfort. I have a kettle that will make water boil itself with the flip of a switch." He has been in Aifaran for nearly half a year, and the marvels of modern technology still leave him dazzled.
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The Fool was pulling away before he recalled the name, and he inhaled a deep breath to trap the familiar smell a little longer in his lungs. His smile wasn't quite a mirror to that the Fool wore; but it was fond, and grateful, and he was pliant to the gentle tugging of his arm.
"You don't have to lure me with tall tales, Fool," he laughed, and followed wherever his companion led.
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He leads the way up the spiraling walk-up to the second level of the building and, having found his keys, opens the door into his small apartment. It is a modest place, though the Fool has left his undeniable mark upon it in the few months that he has lived here; gossamer curtains hang before the windows, which are lined with house plants in varying stages of growth. Wind chimes made from glass and wood; rich fabric throws tossed across hand-me-down furniture; wood carving tools and a little work station near the closed door to his bedroom; everything is clean, but lived in.
Pleased, the Fool waits for Fitz to follow him in before closing the door. "Not as lavish as Lord Golden's boudoir," he remarks, "but comfortable. Now look." He steps over to his small kitchenette and turns on the sink tap, dispensing water into a kettle, which he plugs into the wall. Switch flipped. "Give it a moment."
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Everything looked lush, and vibrant, in its own humble way. And brought a thousand questions springing to mind.
Rather than voice them, he padded after the Fool-- and his attention didn't follow to the kettle, instead honed in on the tap.
"Wait-- wait, what--"
He repeated the Fool's gesture, to turn the tap on. Water came out. He turned it off. Goosebumps had rolled up his forearms. How many hours had he spent as a boy hauling water between two places, for horses and dogs and Burrich's needs? His heart was racing, and in a rush, he reached out with his Skill sense, hunting for any sign of magic--
"How is this possible?"
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"Through the wonders of mechanical engineering, or so I have been told." Once the kettle clicks off, he reaches out to remove it from its eye and pours the water into two cups, both of which already contain enough lightly spiced tea to brighten the senses. He extends one out to Fitz, his smile softening fondly; it is so easy to tease him, and yet if even the simple act of turning a faucet is enough to startle him, he clearly hasn't been in Aifaran long enough to adapt. Best to be kind to him.
"Fitz," he begins again, searching his face, "how long have you been here?" It is the easiest of the questions he's burning to ask.
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"A day and a half." He lifted the cup to his face, inhaling deeply of its steam, which lifted between them like a veil.
"How do we get back?"
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A simple question without an answer that could satisfy. Perhaps that much should be evident to Fitz, given how the Fool averts his eyes and turns, reaching for one of the stools beneath a modest kitchen table. He perches himself upon it, almost birdlike, and gestures for Fitz to do the same, with quietly murmured, "please," to make himself clear.
Only once he's taken a seat (or otherwise made it clear that he will remain standing), the Fool settles his hands around the girth of his mug again. He looks to Fitz through the haze of steam that rises between them. "We do not," he says simply. Then, to clarify, "At least, we do not until the Dreaming decides to release us." He studies Fitz's expression carefully before he says his next words; it will answer, for himself, just how much time has transpired between their respective timelines, if any at all. "I have been here for nearly six months."
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"Six months? That doesn't even--" He frowned, lowering the cup. "So you're telling me we just wait? That's it? Nothing we can do?"
He was clearly working up to argue the case, and his eyes flashed, like shards of jet before a fire.
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Curious, that he does not sound especially disappointed by this turn of events. Then again, with the events of Aslevjal so recent in his memory, perhaps that is understandable.