March Test Drive!

[rubycitymods]

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!

Comments

[mining_mole]

"Yet if being dead in this world should mean that I would not live to betray Gondolin like the coward which I am, I will gladly choose it." He averts his eyes as he says that, not quite as ready to sacrifice whatever life is left to him for the sake of others as he thinks that he should be. But. It's not like he can trust Morgoth, and if he dies soon after the betrayal... their kind is not allowed to leave past Arda after their deaths, so he will have to face everyone again.

[bythewaves]

A quiet noise of pain and Maglor takes another step closer.

"Why must our family always end in tragedy? You do not deserve that fate, even if you chose it. But death here may not be made permanent in any case."

[mining_mole]

"There is a curse." He wasn't there for it being spoken, nor for the circumstances to which it responded, but he has come to assume that it must be hereditary.

There is a sagging somewhere between despair and relief when he learns that dying might not be an option either and simply stands there after, looking lost. If there is nothing that he can do... he at least won't turn down what hospitality he is offered, but he's not sure how to accept it at this point.

[bythewaves]

"There is" He nods. "But why must it lie on our descendents and cousins, who swore no Oath?" Quietly, he takes the final step into arms reach and offers his hand.

"I cannot save you nephew. But will you at least let me help you?"

[mining_mole]

He cannot answer to that, to either question, but while it is born of simple ignorance of the causes and too many dark thoughts on it with the first question, it is simple exhaustion and disbelief of being offered help from someone who knows what he will do, even if it is a Feanorian, for the second question, and he pulls the cloak a bit closer around himself and takes the proffered hand, carefully and with a little wince (none of the wounds on his hands are so bad as that they wouldn't heal within a few days, barely above paper cuts and scratches, but there are still so many of them, especially on the insides of his hands, that touching anything comes with a painful, unpleasant burning and stinging sensation.

[bythewaves]

The hand that closes around him is scarred but gentle, and Mgalor tugs gently to lead him in the direction of the house.

"Keep the cloak, nephew. But come, let us get your wounds treated and you into dry things."

[mining_mole]

He'll follow silently, cloak pulled tightly around himself with his free hand, his eyes on the ground or quickly, hastily skipping around, staying on nothing longer than a few seconds.

When they enter the house, he hesitates once more, as there are voices on the upper floor, distant enough to not be understandable but definitely in the house, too. He pauses to understand, make out voices - someone that he knows? Or ...worse, someone who knows of Maeglin the way in which Maglor knows of him, and will they treat him as kindly as Maglor?

[bythewaves]

Maglor tips his head, listening and then smiles wryly at Maeglin.

"My uncle - the Noldoran Arafinwe, and his son, Finrod. I cannot hear Galadriel, but like as not she is sitting there smugly. Her daughter Celebrian owns the house. Come inside nephew. Come and be welcome."

[mining_mole]

He hesitates, almost steps away again. "They have no reason to show me welcome, even less than you." They really don't, for he has betrayed their nephew and cousin and his family. He'll exclude himself from family relations easily, for the only family of his that he has ever met he betrayed or saw die before his eyes, and family that one has not met will always be less important than that which one has met. And they would have known Turgon and Idril and all around them. He wronged this people's family, and even if Maglor seems gladdened to have met him, there is no guarantee that others will react the same. It really is rather unlikely, really, because it isn't the logical reaction. And while he could normally deal with unfriendly or scary or hostile reactions, right now he only wants a warm place and a little food and to curl up and sleep a sleep that will hopefully be dreamless and bring healing.

[bythewaves]

Maglor stops in the hall and looks back at Maeglin with a raised eyebrow. "Do they? You maybe will one day betray Gondolin, but trust me when I say that what I do will be, has been, far, far worse. And you betray a city under duress - under torture and threat of torture, and with temptation dangling you in the face. Everything I did, Maeglin, I did full knowing and of my own choice. If they welcome me here, I do not think they will turn you aside."

Gently. "Come inside. You are my guest now, and whatever else, the rules of hospitality still hold."

[mining_mole]

He wants to reply to this, but a wave of exhaustion washes over him and he stumbles, and whatever reactions there will be to his presence, he really doesn't have all that many reasonable options right now. The other option is to curl up in an abandoned building and hope that he'll not freeze to death.

So he follows, stepping into the building and letting the door fall shut behind himself.

[bythewaves]

"Maeglin!" A gasp of worry, and Maglor makes an aborted move towards him when he does, relaxing only when it seems that Maeglin is fine.

"You are safe here, nephew. I promise. Come and rest by the fire, and I will fetch you something hot to eat and drink. I think there was soup left on the stove. We need not even tell the rest of the house you are here, yet."

[mining_mole]

"...Thank you." He lets himself be led around, though his eyes dart around nervously, and his reaction to fire will both search for warmth and be scared of the flames, but he sits by it anyway, unmoving, his eyes following Maglor as he moves about the room.

[bythewaves]

Maglor moves with the assurance of one who has been here a while, knowing where things are, practiced and comfortable.

"Tea, I think, on weather like this, and I am sure I left some soup... ah, here. This is a marvel, you know" He pats the fridge. "An ice box which requires no ice! I wish I was better able to understand how it works."

[mining_mole]

"I could look at it and see if I can find out." There is a spark of something else in his eyes then, older than fear and despair and shame, and he leans forward a bit to peer at the box. He's a miner rather than a smith, though both are crafts that he would pursue with the greatest interest in a heartbeat, if they were offered to him; but mining requires much tinkering and mechanics as well. He may be no match when compared to Celebrimbor, but compared to others, he does think that he is. He may find out.

[bythewaves]

There we go! and Maglor smiles at him. "I am sure no one will mind - indeed, it would be interesting if you could find out, I think nephew. Certainly none of us here are the sort to know how."

[mining_mole]

"I might have to dissemble it." He hasn't exactly forgotten about his general situation, but this is different and familiar and comfortable, almost joyful, and for just a moment he wants to take comfort in it and wants to just not think about all those other things.

[bythewaves]

"Maybe not ours then" Maglor chuckles lowly. "As I think Celebrian would be rather annoyed, if you used ours. But it will not be hard to find another - they are quite widespread, in this strange city."

[mining_mole]

"I will find another one," he promises quickly and then looks to the door, as if thinking that she might be standing there. She probably has a low opinion of him anyway, understandably, and if the first thing about him that she hears would have been his wish to dissemble her kitchen interior that surely wouldn't have improved that opinion.

[bythewaves]

"I will help" Maglor nods. "I am sure we can find a spare one, in a place such as this. And you can explain what you find eh? In easy language, please! There is a reason Curufin is the one reknowed and not I."

[mining_mole]

The mention of Curufin throws him back to a different time and place, abruptly, a quiet, dark and still very pleasant conversation that for the first time since arriving in Gondolin made him see his mother's extended family as a family, not a political unit, and through those connections (being emotionally taken back to a time when she would tell him stories of her childhood and youth) put him at ease in a way that he had almost forgotten.

"...I was told that even if one has no talent in your field and much in your brother's, it still is far kinder to be taught by you."

[bythewaves]

"Oh?" A fond, wistful smile. "I suppose I was the kinder taskmaster, that is true. Easier to bribe and wheedle, my younger cousins found." But he taught as many of them as wanted to learn anyway. Softly, "Curufin was too much like our father - he demanded perfection - from himself, as well as others."

[mining_mole]

"Celebrimbor did find it so as well, then."

He thinks back to the stories, for stories is all that he has of most of his relatives, even ones much closer than Fëanor and his sons. It is all that he has of Fingolfin and Argon, and pretty much all that he has of Fingon. All that he has of Fingolfin's siblings and their children.

"...How strong is the resemblance between him and his father and grandfather?"

[bythewaves]

"Did he?" Maglor smiles in memory. "I am glad that he remembered some things fondly."

He hums thoughtfully. "Celebrimbor was more like Feanor than Curufin was, I think. Not so much in looks, although there was certainly that strong resemblence there, but in personality. Very forceful, and once he made up his mind, you got out of his way, or were swept in his wake, for you could not change it. Curufin was more calculating, more cold, although he had that stubborness too."

[mining_mole]

"He-" Maeglin hesitates, is this too personal, but then decides to continue, because it isn't terribly so and Celebrimbor never indicated that he didn't want his family to hear of it, only not the general population of Gondolin, "I believe that he remembered his family fondly as you were before the Oath. And, sometimes, after." That much he could take away from their conversations.

Almost like Fëanor and that is a strange thought on the one hand and on the other it leads his mind places, and he drifts for a bit, lost in thought.