Test Drive Meme #001

[khuimods]

KHU IODUAN; TEST DRIVE MEME #001

I. 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? II. 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! 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. INTO THE UNKNOWN - Watch Your Back Out There The sea patrol discovered the new irregularity a few days ago, reporting that it looks like a series of tall and jagged stone towers rising up from the ocean. It's incomplete as these planar-shunted locations often are, as if something massive had taken a bite of some mysterious city and then spat it whole into the seas of Konryu. Having been chosen as part of the exploration team, you've been working your way through the complicated labyrinth of stone tunnels and dead ends, searching for what the Opara engineers had enthusiastically described as a potential new power source. "Trace the green glowing power lines," was their (sort of helpful) instruction. However the lean, dark and toothy thing you've just glimpsed should probably be a more pressing concern... warn others? Take it on yourself? Pray it hasn't spotted 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

Comments

[psituational]

You don't hear "wait!" in the middle of a burning building unless it's important, so X waits without argument, blinking against the heat and smoke and tears blurring his vision. Damn it, he can't breathe. Is there anyone around here who doesn't need to? There's no way for X to know, and if he goes into his trance now he's not going to be much help. What would he do, run out of the building and leave his new friend to the rescue effort?

During a brief second of clarity between blinks, X sees what the man does to the back of the bookcase. He might think he was seeing things, if seeing someone melt wood was outside the realm of possibility for him. What was it, plebeian magic? For the first time, X wonders who his companion is; he has the oddly beautiful features of an elf, but he's too tall, and has the wrong skin colour. Given that they're marooned between worlds, speculation is probably useless.

And they don't have the time, anyway. X blinks furiously again and resumes his grip, hissing with the pain. "One," he says, "two --"

And he pulls. The bookcase moves, though not easily, and it takes precious moments of straining effort to move it far enough to get the door open.

[afoolsgold]

When the Fool withdraws his hand from behind the case, they are both given a brief view of the back of the case, where the wood grain has bent into an elegant curve away from the latch. It looks, for all the world, as though it was smoothed and sanded and stained that way over the course of several hours, rather than in a matter of seconds.

Then the Fool puts his back to the work of pushing as X pulls--demonstrating more spry strength than one might suspect from his slight frame--and together they're able to move the bookcase clear of the door.

In a flash, the door slams open, and nearly off of its hinges, as several Kin'nal burst out of the room, shouting in both panic and fear and pain as they scramble past towards the nearest exit.

"Is that everyone?" the Fool asks--or he starts to, at any rate, before he appears to succumb to smoke inhalation. His eyes go distant and fogged, and he slumps against the wall, catching himself against it with one grasping hand. "--oh dear." Bit of an understatement.

[psituational]

X needs to jump out of the way when the door bursts open; he was expecting anyone left inside to be half-dead from the smoke. It's a very good thing they can all get themselves out, because X doesn't feel like he has the strength left to carry anyone.

So that, of course, is when the not-elf falls against the wall.

"Damn," X mutters. He takes one step into the newly revealed room, nearly loses his balance, and puts his shoulder heavily against the doorframe. "Is anyone left?" he calls out. "Anyone?"

No answer. No figures in the smoke.

If someone was left, X imagines one of the survivors would have asked for help. That's one problem dealt with. He shifts his weight and closes the door, then falls to his knees next to his new friend. "Are you alright?" he asks -- coughs. "Can you stand?"

[afoolsgold]

There's still breathable air lower to the ground, and so in the intervening moments, the Fool has somewhat regained his senses. Blinking blearily at X and keeping one sleeve pulled across his nose and mouth, he nods. "Yes," he insists, a little hoarse but still clearly in control of his faculties. Already, he's getting a grip on the doorframe to pull himself up to his feet; he wobbles only for a moment, before he squints towards the exit.

The fire brigade should be here at any moment, and around them, the building is giving low, ominous groans as its beams and timbers strain under the flames. "This way," he says to X, and quickly leads the way through the smoke in the direction that he hopes will lead them out onto the street.

[psituational]

He's still conscious. That's a good sign. He can even stand under his own power, foregoing the need for X to work out how to carry him without coming into contact with his hands -- because that, after all, might be the reason he wears gloves. Those are all good things, and it makes their frantic dash out into the street much easier than it might have been otherwise.

The fresh air rolls over them like a wave of warm water. The moment they're clear of the flames, X falls to his knees, his eyes shut tight against streaming tears while he works to get his ragged breathing back under control. For all that X is acting exactly like someone who's just run through a fire, however, his skin looks completely untouched. No burns, no bruises, and no cuts.

He can hear the sounds of firefighting, as well as the clomp clomp of the earlier mounted officer approaching them. Run, says his well-worn danger instinct, but X couldn't even if he wanted to.

[afoolsgold]

The ends of the Fool's pale cloak are aflame when they finally stagger out of the burning building together, and he sheds the garment swiftly, stomping out the tongues of flame threatening to engulf it. Though smoke has smudged his tawny skin and golden hair, his bright amber eyes are alert to the approach of the mounted officer coming towards them.

He rises to his feet a little unsteadily but juts out his jaw in something approaching defiance at the officer. "Whatever quarrel you believe you have with my friend," he says, his voice strong despite his obvious smoke inhalation, "you would perhaps be better served by investigating who started that fire."

[psituational]

My friend, X hears dimly. It must be some sort of new record, having someone voluntarily call him that. He hasn't even had the chance to be annoying yet. Warmth blooms fiercely in his chest, an oddly pleasant counterpoint to the heat of the house fire on his back.

"Your friend," the officer says, his tone somewhere between firm and confused, "might be the one who started the fire."

X shakes his head. "No," he manages, hoarse and painful. "Just the drugs." ... Wait. "Not -- not mine."

[afoolsgold]

"He did not," the Fool denounces the accusation sharply, and now he's drawn himself up to his full height--he's taller than he looks, slight of frame but not weak, and he places his gloved hand on X's shoulder where he continues to kneel, coughing and struggling for breath. "Accuse him of being bull-headed and using poor judgment, rushing headlong into a burning building like that," this said in an aside down to the man beside him, before he turns his hard gaze on the guard again. "But you and I well know that he risked his life to enter the building to rescue those inside. And he succeeded. Look for yourself."

He points behind the guard's shoulders to the clusters of Kin'nal who now hover nearby, hugging themselves and comforting their loved ones, just glad to have survived the blaze intact. Unmoving, the Fool keeps his grip on X's shoulders and shifts to stand between this otherwise complete stranger, and an authority figure.

"He is not your man," he states again. "He is innocent."

[psituational]

Ah. There it is. Bull-headed with poor judgement. X would be laughing if his throat was capable of it. Friendship wouldn't be friendship without all the complexities of fond insults.

The officer looks unconvinced, glancing between the Fool and the Kin'nal behind him like that would somehow provide him with the answers he wants. It's not clear what contributes to his decision in the end -- logic, maybe, or the desire not to earn one of the Dreamfolk's wrath. But whatever the reason, he shakes his head and turns to the survivors of the blaze instead, ignoring whatever the Dreamfolk decide to do next.

X is still on the ground, rocking a little against the pain in his throat, but no longer coughing. That's a step up. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, but stronger.

"Thank you."

He means it. People here may not have the same cultural predisposition to hate who he is, but it wasn't something X was relying on, and the Fool didn't need to stick his neck out for a stranger besides.

[afoolsgold]

He needn't have done it, but he had done it anyway. By his own admission, the Fool has never been wise. Why else call oneself the Fool?

"I shall be sure to blame you, should the authorities turn up at my door on the Bridge sometime later insisting on arresting me." This said wryly, for he smiles, too, then kneels to try to help X up to his feet by taking one arm across his shoulder. For such a slight man, he is not weak.

"Let us find some water," he says, and finally coughs, making sure to do so into his elbow. "I'm parched." And a bit singed.