rubycity_ooc | March Test Drive!

Entry tags:

March Test Drive!

Thinking of apping a character but not sure they'll fit in the city walls?

Have no fear, a meme for you is here.

Directions:

Use an RNG to choose a location and prompt, or wait for someone else to tag.

Post with your character with their name and canon on top!

If you'd like, leave contact info for people to get in contact for plotting and other such shenans.

Tag around! Make friends. Don't be afraid to chat OOC while tagging.

Locations

1.TRAIN STATION - The place where everyone gets dumped off at. Your first view of Ruby City, complete with informational posters telling you all about where you've ended up.
2. THE BEACH - Lovely year-round, though in the winter months, you're probably not likely to dip your toes in.
3. THE BLACK STALLION - A rather quaint bar. Supposedly, the burgers are great, but you don't see anyone immediately who's willing to serve you. Maybe you're meant to get it yourself.
4. THE OBELISK - The tall monolith in the center of the city marks the gathering place of many events, though right now it seems to be cold and dark.
5. THE CLOCKTOWER - Offering an impressive view of the city, several residents come here to clear their heads, if they don't mind braving the narrow staircase.
6. THE COFFEE JOINT - the front windows are warm and welcoming, and it seems there's always someone friendly enough to fix you a cup when you wander through.
7. THE CATACOMBS - Intrepid, aren't you? Those weird holes may beg exploring, but go too deep and you're going to be in a lot of trouble, considering the viciousness of the creatures held within.
8. THE CITY STREETS - All told, Ruby City is a lovely place, once you get past the fact that several of the buildings look derelict and on the verge of falling down. There's no harm in doing a little sightseeing.
9. THE PARK - You thought it'd be a lovely stroll, but the park is anything but friendly, if those approaching wolf-like creatures are any indication.
10. CHOOSE YOUR OWN - Don't like what we've come up with? Feel like picking your own place? There's a whole host of lovely locations to choose from in the City.

Scenarios

1. NEW ARRIVAL - Step off that train, walk down the street. People usually latch on to newcomers to try and help them out. Even if you look shy, the other residents probably won't be!
2. WATCH TALK - Feeling lost? Disoriented? Don't worry, everyone feels that way on their first day. Fortunately - if the signs at the station are to believed - the watch in your pocket can be used to talk to whoever else might be here.
3. BAD WEATHER - Aw, man. Whether it's snow, or rain, or just plain cold, today was definitely the wrong day to get dumped off in a City in the middle of nowhere.
4. A RUN-IN - Maybe you weren't watching. Maybe they weren't. Either way, you just bumped into someone. Perhaps apologies are in order?
5. HELP, IT HURTS - Clumsy, aren't you? Perhaps wherever the train brought you from wasn't so friendly, or you just tripped and twisted your ankle. Either way, you're in a bit of pain. Hopefully someone will notice your booboos and help patch you up.
6. HUNGRY - It isn't very obvious sometimes that restaurants are what they are, especially in a place like Ruby City. Where can a person go to get a bite to eat around here?
7. MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Hey, there's someone you know! --Or maybe not.
8. BEING FOLLOWED - Maybe you're just being paranoid, or maybe you've got a reason to be afraid. Whatever it is, it feels like there's eyes on you...
9. CURRENT EVENTS - None at the moment, but feel free to look through our event tag!
10. CHOOSE YOUR OWN - Don't like any of these ideas? Feel free to come up with your own!

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1-1
It was a rare moment of semi-peace, if not a moment of quiet between battles and hunts that led to the Noldo king stepping off the train. Fëanor frowned at the abrupt change in scenery and spun on a heel to watch as the mechanical monster pulled away, leaving him behind with many questions. Alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces, as opposed to faces well known. Armored and armed, an impatient hand brushed back a lock of dark hair, tucking it behind a pointed ear as he turned back around. Slower than the wary spin from before.

Signs that nearly jumped at him caught his eye long enough to be read as he stepped away from where he'd landed, but he ignored them just as swiftly as he'd learned their messages. Not a writing he'd made, but it displayed a level of intelligence and technology. Along with whatever it was that had brought him to 'Ruby City'.

The tall, handsome elf set out to explore, steps confident and certain in stride, he wouldn't let anything stop him from learning all there was to learn. Nothing would keep him from finding a way back to where he belonged, either. This was no official exile that he'd acknowledge.

6-3.
Fëanor couldn't care less about the snow that had started coming down while he was out, but that didn't mean the lure of a warm meal while he poked at the watch he'd found on his person wasn't welcome. A flash of a smile, barely real but taken as such by the servant at the 'cafe' had him shown to a table and a cup of dark, steaming liquid was placed in front of him. Back to the wall, he set the watch on the table beside the cup and pulled out some small tools he'd gotten his hands on.

Then set to work learning all the workings of the device, memory telling him what would go where when he was ready to put it back together. For the moment, his cloak would dry and be of more use later. He could work in peace and quiet. And he had a flat, stable surface that was fairly clean.

Wildcard! [Make your own adventure! He could be wandering the beaches, the forests, or the streets, poking his nose into everything.]

Maglor slips out of the house to sit on the bench and watch the train come in often, idly picking tunes on his harp. But ah, that light, that song. The harp slips from suddenly nerveless fingers and he starts to his feet with a soft gasp.

"Atarinya?"

Is he dreaming?

No, not dreaming. Fëanor heard the music and the song was far too familiar for him to ignore. He barely paused before turning to face Maglor and walked to stop in front of him. A mix of relief and fury (directed elsewhere) fought for dominance on his face as he bent, after a moment, to pick up the dropped harp.

"Your eyes do not deceive you," he answered the unasked question.

A thousand emotions cross his face as he stands looking at his father (holding the harp, just like when he gave it to him, careful but slightly awkwardly) before the mask slams down, locking it all away.

"It has been a long time, atarinya." Flatly controlled and almost haughty.

Maglor...hiding his emotions was not something he was used to seeing. Fëanor felt his eyes narrow a little, not liking what he saw. And why should he? His secondborn might be the quieter, gentler of his sons, but he burned no less bright.

Time. Not so much for him, but he could see the age around his son. He stepped just that much closer, gaze locked on Maglor's.

"Perhaps it is my eyes which play the fool." Deliberately quiet. Musing, as if doubting he stood in front of his secondborn. Judging, just by a tilt up of his chin to say what he saw was less than what he should find.

No, Feanor would not have seen this. This is what his son learnt, those scant few years when he held the High Kingship, this is what he learnt, to survive the First Age, to wear a mask, to be anything that the circumstances, that his family, required him to be - to smile, to weep, to be strong. To never, ever, show his true face. And Maglor was always a very good actor.

"Perhaps they do. I suppose it depends on what you think you see, atarinya" Polite, but distant.

Edited 2015-03-14 12:41 (UTC)

By this point in time, it wasn't too hard for Beleth to recognize one of the elves of the world that so many of her friends had come from. It seemed as if she were the only elf in the city to not be one of them, and they certainly had an air about them. A glow--A literal glow, a way of holding themselves. A feeling like they were beyond this world. This man shared all of their qualities, so she stood, cupping her tea carefully to walk over and greet him. This one...bore a resemblance to one she had become quite close with.

"Greetings, my lord," She started, smiling cheerfully as she stood at the table. She had better manners than to just sit down with him, so instead kind of...Hovered. "I apologize if I interrupt, I've never seen anyone take apart the watch. Will it effect its magic..?" She straightened, remembering her manners, and held her cup of tea in one hand, closing her hand into a fist and thumping it to her chest with a quick bob of the head. "My name is Beleth Lavellan, ser. Are you one of the Eldar...? I apologize, but you bare a great resemblance to those I know."

If asked, he'd simply say the impossible didn't apply to him. Fëanor was aware of another approaching, but in a distant way until she spoke. He looked up, shoving aside irritation at the interruption that flared up as his hands paused in their work. No one he knew, the barest of glances told him, though at least she had fair enough manners to earn her a nod.

"If the magic is affected then it is of poor make, and I will improve upon it." Confident? Without a doubt. Her greeting was somewhat sharper than one he was familiar with, and his reply was smoother and silent as he sat back, away from the table. What she had to say further tamped the irritation down, and the severity of his expression settled. He gestured to the chair across from him in invitation.

"I am Fëanor. Yes, I am of the Eldar. Who have you met?"

He seemed...confident, but friendly enough, at first, and she settled in the chair amicably. Most of the elves she had met had every right to be confident, though they had all veered towards modesty. It wasn't too surprising that some would choose to be more open about their abilities. As someone who suffered from lack of self-confidence, she was more in a position to admire, than to throw stones.

Her expression remained friendly, until he mentioned his name. At first, she just paused, searching her memory. Maglor had mentioned many names to her, and it took a few moments for the realization to sink in, and for words to float across her memory. What had Galadriel told her? It has brought my brother back from death itself. It could easily bring my uncle with one of the accursed gems in his hand. His hand didn't seem to possess any jewelry so beautiful that one would be driven across seas and wade through innocent blood to seek it, but the idea was there, and it sent a chill down her spine.

The elf is usually docile, meek even, preferring to stay quiet and keep her thoughts to herself, rather than cause a fuss. However, more than her desire for peace, is her desire to protect her friends. For her friends will Beleth face down darkspawn magisters, tainted dragons with claws as long as she is, and travel the breadth of the land. And she will certainly attempt to fight an elf who could probably hold his breath for the amount of time she has been alive. It certainly didn't help that Beleth was...emotionally compromised, for the one who had been hurt.

Her hand goes out, nearly surprising her, the table knocked aside as she stands suddenly. A fist aimed right at his face, though the strength behind it is...far lacking from what the other elf has had aimed at him. But there is an irrefutable passion behind it, and behind the words she hurls at him, voice nearly cracking from anger.

"You! You--You ass! I know what you have done, h-how dare you even show your face here! I know the blood on your hands, and I know the blood you put on your sons' hands! The vow you put them to! Over some--Some what, some jewels?" Her voice was shaking, from anger, but also definite fear, for even as she spoke, her mind calculated just what she had done. But the fear, while not ignored, is fought through, for some things you have to do even when you are afraid. "I don't care how beautiful they were, you--you killed people! You killed so many people! And you made them suffer, and--I won't allow it!" She straightens up, still seething, but determination right along the anger. "You hurt Maglor enough, you don't even know, do you? What it cost him? What he's like, now? Did you think about it what it might do to them? Well! I won't let you take him in with your stupid vows again! I won't let you hurt him! Your stupid simarils aren't here, and you will let Maglor rest in peace from them!"

At some point during his exploration of the city, a figure drops into the space beside him, or perhaps a foot behind in order to watch his back. It has been a long time since the two of them strolled anywhere without the threat of exile or murder, and Maedhros hasn't let himself remember how much he'd missed this. Just father and son, before everything went to hell.

Eventually he does speak, when letting the silence linger further might border on insult.

"Atar."

Edited 2015-03-13 06:34 (UTC)

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March Test Drive!

Fëanor | Tolkien

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6-3

Completely forgot the watches can't be taken apart lol

It's all good

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