archishellago | Test Drive Meme #006

KHU IODUAN; TEST DRIVE MEME #006

I. AROUND AIFARAN - Getting The Perfect Shot!

This month in Aifaran, there's a contest being held on the popular social site Xa Xa, which Earth-based Dreamfolk may recognize as vaguely Instagram-like -- it's all about the pretty pictures! With a top (and substantial) prize of 500 hhinn per category, lots of people are getting into the game. Prizes will be handed out for awards like Best Composition, Most Creative Angle, Best Use of Lighting, etc, and this means that it won't be uncommon to see people in unusual places (even some risky ones) trying to score the perfect shot. Maybe they're bumping accidentally into you on the street, or slipping off the edge of a rooftop, or not paying attention to that train heading their way??

II. 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!"

III. WE HAVE REGULATIONS ABOUT THIS - Munga on the Loose!

Munga are ill-tempered, rat-sized spiky lizards with a gift for camouflage, and whose venom in their spines and teeth is also highly hallucinogenic. And... they're on the loose. Fortunately, keeping them is highly regulated, and pretty much everyone in Aifaran knows about them, but loose Munga are uncommon enough that the reaction is more likely to be startled flailing at a hint of spines and skittering. Today someone's exotic pet has slipped out of their hands, and it's trailing a harness and lead as it zigzags away, prickling and hissing and going for the ankles. It's given a wide berth, except by those who don't notice until it's too late or those too preoccupied by something else. Hopefully the proper authorities have been notified to catch and return the creature, but maybe someone helpful can keep it from getting too far away?

IV. A SURPRISE WINDFALL - Officer, This Isn't Mine...

There was a loud thud as someone tosses a heavy bag from the window of a dilapidated building. Five seconds later there’s smoke pouring out the windows and your holding what seems to be someone else’s luggage. Opening it, you find carefully wrapped bricks of some very illegal drugs, and someone down the side alley is pointing at you and yelling. A mounted Sentry officer is giving you a rather peculiar look as well while he calls in the fire brigade. And among the people fleeing the building, there are five Kin’nal looking at you, wide-eyed, as it suddenly dawns on them that they messed up. Take your new prize and split before reinforcements arrive? Try to explain the mistake? Take note that the building is still on fire?

V. KNOWLEDGE IS PRECIOUS - Accosted By Monks

The Tariken monks are out in full force today, their orange and green robes making them easy to spot in a crowd, and there's a high chance you might be approached by one. Their sect values knowledge above everything else, so recording information from Dreamfolk, who are transient to Konryu, is something they see as imperative. Some of the questions are standard ("what's the name of your world? is it anything like Konryu? do have have any special position there?") but sometimes they move into stranger territory, like what's your favourite bath soap scent and how many times you wear your socks before washing them -- all of which are asked with the most studious attentiveness, just in case your answer holds the secret to the multiverse.

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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By chance or by fate, or perhaps both, Rutile is a frequent patron of the Skyway, and glances up from their yimo when they hear the tell-tale clatter and grind of stone landing on gravel. What they startles them such that the yimo slips out from their hand, and there is a delicate moment where they are frozen with surprise. It is Antarcticite of all people, here, in Aifaran, who has jumped down onto the tracks to rescue some hapless bystander, in front of an oncoming skytrain.

Fucking kids, is Rutile's clearest thought as they dash to the edge and crouch by the side. "Antarc!" they shout, and reach down as far as they can. "Give them to me, Antarc; you need to get out!"

With the train coming at this speed, the matter of hardness is a moot point; neither of them will make it through a collision unscathed.

There is a wide-eyed looking Castian now clutching at Antarcticite's arms and torso, her initial exclamations of indignation now replaced by shrieks of terror as she becomes aware of her circumstances. "Get me out, get me out, help me!" she yells, often and repeatedly, while Antarcticite struggles desperately to sort out an escape plan in the fleeting moments they have left.

Reckless, impulsive--but what else could they have done, they could not have simply stood by and done nothing--

"Antarc!"

Startled, they whip their head around to stare up in shock at--"Rutile..!"

"Give them to me, Antarc; you need to get out!"

That command is enough to snap them out of it, and with a grunt of effort they toss--yes, toss--the shrieking Castian up into Rutile's waiting arms. (They'd better be waiting, at any rate.) That leaves Antarcticite just enough time to leap for the edge of the platform and scrabble desperately above the ledge before the oncoming skytrain comes roaring past, squealing breaks and all.

They make it, barely, though their hasty escape leaves a hairline crack along the side of one leg.

"...did you see that? I can't believe it, that lady nearly died..."

There's an explosion of sound around them as rubberneckers and gawkers crowd around them on the platform, some leaning in to see if the three of them are okay while others simply have their yimos up to liveblog the whole experience on Xa Xa. Antarcticite's wide-eyed shock at the experience is quickly transforming into indignation, though they wobble a little as they push themselves up to their feet.

Rutile catches the Castian but it's a pleasant experience for neither of them: they roll back onto the platform and Rutile's head glances off the stone tiles with a sickening crack; and of course, Rutile's arms are not exactly welcoming. The skytrain rushes into the station with a loud rattle and a shriek of the breaks, the lights blinking in time to warn of its arrival.

Much good that did, Rutile thinks.

After a second of getting their bearings - they're still awake, so the crack must not have gone all the way through - Rutile pries the Castian's webbed fingers from their clothing and pushes them aside. "Look at that, you're still alive," they observe, sitting up. "A few bruises. You'll be alright." Even as they murmur words of comfort, their attention is preoccupied by the surrounding activity. Rutile's gaze slips over each bystander in turn until they see -

- Antarcticite.

Sure enough, it's them, alive and solid as ever. The sight of them whole surrounded by warmth and greenery is unnerving at best, and leaves Rutile's relief at their well-being tempered by apprehension. What did it mean if first Padparadscha, who had never been whole, was in Aifaran, and now there was Antarcticite who should no longer exist at all?

Rutile swallows these fears; Antarcticite doesn't deserve to carry them. As they get to their feet, they announce to the crowd, "Alright, yes, you've seen quite enough. Put those things away before the same fate befalls you!"

Then they turn to Antarcticite. "Not how I would have greeted the skytrain, I have to say. Are you injured?"

Edited 2018-08-09 01:55 (UTC)

Rutile's admonishment seems to be sufficient to coax the crowd into dispersing, though several eyes do look back at the pair of gems to ogle at them. But before too long all the hangers on have either boarded the train to depart the station or ventured down the stairs leading to the street and the rest of the city.

Now Antarcticite has no choice but to confront the recklessness of their actions.

"Not how I would have greeted the skytrain, I have to say. Are you injured?"

They colour, chagrined, at the comment, then look down with some dismay to the slender crack that has appeared along the side of their thigh; near the knee joint, the crack has spidered some. "Ah, yes," they admit, and quickly scour the ground near the edge of the platform in search of any stray shards that may have come loose in the chaos. "I'm sorry, Rutile. I should have been more cautious--I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up."

Then they look up, confusion evident on their features, and admit, "I still don't even know how it's possible that I'm here at all."

While Antarcticite is busy being embarrassed, Rutile has already spied the crack and is crouching down to examine it, prodding at some of the more delicate areas with a gloved finger. Nothing seems prone to falling out, and when satisfied that Antarcticite is no worse the wear for it, they stand up and let their hands settle on their hips for a lecture.

And then, their gaze lands on Antarcticite's confused face. They recall what arriving in Aifaran for the first time was like all too well, and here is Antarc, thrown into a situation which doesn't even make sense. There is not much Rutile can do to explain this, though they could talk until the wind wears away their features.

Rutile softens - figuratively, of course - and their hands fall away. "There is a force here called the Dreaming," they say. "It does... strange things. Things I would not have thought possible. We could ascribe this to that, or..."

They trail off. They're not certain, yet, how appropriate it is to ask how much Antarcticite remembers. The revelation that Phos is responsible for their shattering could be too much to take at this point, and if they already know, it's likely a topic they won't want to dredge up.

"And, you would have been lost without me," they change topics. "That leg should hold, but take care; we'll need to find something that will suitably glue it, and it's a long walk back to the Bridge."

Their memories from before their arrival in Aifaran are complete enough that no, Antarcticite does not wish to revisit them, not even for Rutile. At least, not yet. But they hold still for the cursory examination of their injury, careful not to move too much lest that in some way hamper Rutile's ability to assess the situation. At receiving the all clear, at least for now, they relax some.

"...That leg should hold, but take care; we'll need to find something that will suitably glue it, and it's a long walk back to the Bridge."

"Of course," they are quick to assure Rutile, deferent like one ought to be to their senior, "I wouldn't want to create even more work for you."

They take care with their steps as they exit the train station with Rutile, but after only a brief period of silence they cannot help but ask, "Rutile, are there any others here? Or are we the only ones?"

"Necessary work, Antarc, that I am glad to do. And I have very little of it here to occupy me."

They do long a little for the business of home. In Aifaran they have too much time alone with their thoughts: it is true that nothing good comes of idle hands.

Rutile will admit to being gratified of Antarc's deference. Oh, Antarcticite. A jewel to work with, really - literally. They smile, though it is rather somber. As they rise they check their gloves for mineral shards and cast one last glance about the platform until they are satisfied nothing crucial is being left behind.

As they lead Antarcticite through the streets, they gently reach back and check their own head for cracks. Sure enough, there is a slight fissure there, but not one for which they have much concern.

"Are there any others here?"

Rutile falters, catching their sharp heel on a stone. They catch themselves at the last second, but the stumble is conspicuous and they exhale sharply to cover their embarrassment. "Ah - no," Rutile admits sharply. Then, more gently: " ... Padparadscha is here, and I see them frequently enough, but it has been just the two of us so far. And now, of course, you."

Test Drive Meme #006

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