rubycity_ooc | April Test Drive

Entry tags:

April 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Excuse him, he has to cling and bury his face in your shoulder (and it is UNFAIR you're younger why are you taller) and just breathe and listen because he can't quite believe that you're real ]

Tyelko! I missed you.

[He opens his mouth to ask it has been a mere few years, what in the hunt's name- but while there are many things that once could say about Celegorm, that he doesn't care about his family most certainly isn't one of them. And while Maglor doesn't strictly make sense right now, it is easy to feel what he needs, and it is exactly that what Celegorm will do now.

Which is sitting a bit more comfortably so that he can pull Maglor into his lap and just card his fingers through his brother's hair where it is worn openly, the other arm holding the older Elf pressed against his body - none to gently, but he has never believed in doing things halfway.]

I'm here now.

[ He clings and feels the reassuring beat of Celegorm's heart, the almost rough embrace and the clever hands and he relaxes, although he does not seem particularly inclined to pull away just yet.

Not-a-dream ]

Yes. It really is you. [ A sigh and he sits up ] I am sorry. I ... it has been... a long time, for me.

Too long, I know.

[He keeps his arm around Maglor as the older Elf sits up, loathe to let go - both for Maglor's state of body and mind and because it has been a while, and though Curufin is ever at his side, he and Celebrimbor and the bits of more distant family that are there just can't make up for all the brothers that are lacking. And as much as Celegorm likes to hunt alone, he does, in the end, feel a lot more comfortable as a part of a pack.]

I've been telling Curvo that we should go back East, but he is being all reasonable. [He laughs and shrugs. On a cerebral level, he agrees with his brother - they are of far more use in Nargothrond. But he's just not made for dwelling in caves and being this far away from the rest of their brothers.]

[ Maglor shakes his head, and he is still closer than he would be normally, obviously needing the contact ] Longer than you know, Celegorm. Time here is... strange. I... have not seen you, my brother, for nearly six thousand years.

[Celegorm is the last of the brothers that would complain about physical proximity, too used to others pushing him away for their need of space, so he is quite happy to accommodate this need for closeness.]

You speak as if in fevered dreams, brother. It has been under a decade - Middle-earth may grow more hostile by the day, yet the river of time remains unchanged.

In Middle-earth I do not doubt that is true, but look at me, Tyelko. [ He reaches to put his hands in Celegorm's own, letting him feel the scars ]

I remember those days when you were in Nargothrond, but that is long and long past for me now.

[His breath catches at the scars, and he runs his fingers over them. Old and yet unhealed, though they are clearly not desirable, and he lingers on them a while longer, eyes and fingers.]

What befell that your hands got ruined so?

[The play is gone entirely from his eyes, all that is left the sharp, calculating eyes of the tactician and politician. It's not a mode that he likes to employ, but since coming to Middle-earth it has seen use far too often.]

Oh Celegorm. [ Maglor says gently and so very sadly, turning his hand so that Celegorm can see the palm of the right, where the scars are almost in straight lines... as if the facet of a great gem once pressed into the skin there ]

I think you can guess.

[Celegorm's touch is soft now, his fingers light as the fluttering of feathers as they run along the lines (he would employ this touch with a whelp that was only born or a chick that only just hatched, but this is the opposite, almost, a terrible contrast).

And then he pulls his hand back and growls, a wolf finding a trespasser bent over his offspring, a bear finding a wanderer near her hide, barely a sound but dangerous all the same. It cannot be.]

They are ours. They were made at the hands of our father. [Why would they burn them?]

[ Maglor's hands close around Celegorm's in answer, still strong, for all that they are clumsier now than they used to be, holding his brother still, begging him to listen ]

Are they? Are they truly? We are bound to their retrieval. Yes. But oh Celegorm. The things we did. The things we will do. I am so much older than you now, my firefly. What you did, will do... what I did...

Do you remember, Celegorm, what the Lady Varda did, when Father first made them?

I will do what is necessary, and so will you; for that we have sworn.

[He wraps his other hand around their joint ones, an unshaking calm in his voice.]

And it matters not that she hallowed them, for even so they remain a heirloom of our family, and should all of us die in seeking to retrieve them, the right to them will pass to Curvo's son.

I know. [ Sad and tired ] You did, Tyelko. As did I. But you are ignoring the point, and I know you are not as foolish as many think you.

'That no mortal hand, nor hands unclean, nor anything of evil will may touch them', remember? Oh Celegorm, my beautiful, firey brother. Tell me truthfully, do you really think, by the time we reach the end, that any of us would be able to touch them?

[There is a pause in which the younger brother simply looks down at their hands, and when he looks up again, he meets Maglor's gaze squarely, teeth bared in a wolfish grin that one could hardly still consider a smile.]

Tyelpe will. Did you, who hears the song so well, truly believe that we could see the end of this?

[ A slow shake of his head ]

You know I did not. And Celegorm... Tylepe does not. He cannot.

[ And he leaves that doom hanging there, because Celegorm loves his nephew as dearly as if he was his own son. He will not tell him of the fight, but Celegorm deserves to know that Celebrimbor is also dead ]

[And that does what nothing else could do.

Celegorm's hands drop, his whole posture does, slumping imperceptibly, the fire and strength that it always radiates diminished - as if one threw a bucket of water on a bonfire.]

But he didn't-

I know. [ He whispers and pushes down the memory of his nephew's body, broken and flayed, displayed like a gruesome banner, their family's fate finding him despite everything they did to try and avoid it ]

I'm sorry. [ And he pulls his brother into his arms, because what else can he do? ]

Edited 2015-04-30 13:56 (UTC)

[This time, it is Celegorm who clings to his brother, his chin on Maglor's shoulder, eyes open but not seeing anything, his arms wrapped tightly around the older Elf.

He doesn't cry, but only because he can't yet, the shock sitting too deep, paralysing him. He always thought that Curufin's son would make it. He had to - not having taken the Oath, not bound to their fate like they were, and though he had not thought that the fate of all the Noldor would spare him, he had at least hoped, had clung to the hope that Tyelpe would survive, somehow (for who else of their bloodline should?).

To hear that he didn't...]

[ Maglor does not sing, for there are no songs for this, save the Noldolante, and he will not inflict that on his brother, not yet. But he cards his hand through Celegorm's hair and hums softly, not protesting the almost bruising hold. ]

[It takes a long time - half an hour, perhaps, or more - before Celegorm starts to cry. It is silent, furious, despairing (any other, he might have accused of a lie, but what would one of his brothers gain from such a lie? How would one of them even lie to him?).

He'll cry like that for a long time, and then just... remain where he is, his face leaning into Maglor's shoulder.

Until he sits straighter abruptly.]

Tell me more of this place.

[ Maglor can wait, patient as the tides, and for his brothers he always has all the time in the world, particularly when he thought he would never see them again. He cards his hands through Celegorm's hair and rocks him when he cries as if Celegorm was young again, and he never lets go or protests ]

What do you want to know? We are... at a place between worlds, I suppose is the best description. Folk call it Ruby City. Why we are brought here, no one truly knows, but from all of time and the many varied worlds they bring us, and once here we cannot escape.

What is the nature of the prison? Are there walls unclimbable, or mists over the sea, or still another device which keeps us here? And how great is our prison's perimeter?

Those brought here - who are they, and how many are there? How long does one stay, or is it without end?

[ Maglor's eyes crinkle in fond approval. He has missed this, and he didn't even realise how much until he hears Celegorm dissecting the situation ]

In initial seeming, a very benign one - this place is an island, although I have not ranged that far afield, but those who have indicate it is not terribly large. But. Following the tracks that brought you here will turn you around to where you began. Trying to cross the sea, they say, is impossible, with mist and current and driving wind to confuse you and turn you around. There are rumors that to keep trying exacts a punishment of sorts, but what that punishment might be I know not.

The folk here are from all walks of life, and many and varied lands. Most are Men, of a sort, but there are beings here from many worlds, and not all of them are anything familiar. As for how long one stays... I do not know. I have been here some few months now, and there are those here who have been here years. Those who rule the city, it seems, take and send away as it pleases them to do so without any regard.

[He listens intently and while Maglor speaks sits back a bit, hands dropping into his lap.]

Who is here that I would know, or who would know me or about our family? And is there anything which you can tell me of those who rule the city safe for that they are?

We are... rather infamous. Better to ask who does not know of us? But... of the people who you know... Uncle Arafinwe is here. Artanis, although she is Galadriel, now. Finrod. And... Nyelo is here. But! He is Nyelafinwe still in truth. I told you time is strange. He is so young, Celegorm. He has not even sworn the Oath yet.

[ A sigh ]

Of the people you should know about... Glorfindel is here - Turgon's liegeman. Galadriel's daughter Celebrian. One of my folk - Erestor, who I do not think you ever met, although I released him from my service millenia ago. King Thranduil, the Sindarin king of a forest east of the mountains. A dwarf king of Durin's line - Thorin Oakenshield. And two Men - Aragorn, the King of Gondor, a kingdom that has not even had her first borders settled, in your time. And his many times fore-father... Elros. Idril's great grandson.

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