ASGARD GENESIS - TEST DRIVE #1

[asgardmods]

the test drive meme. ❧ let's do this. Anyone can post to the test drive meme, including duplicates! Please put your character name and canon in the title of your comment. All threads are considered open to everyone! Tag around and make some friends (or enemies)! If you decide to apply to the game, you can use your TDM threads for your app samples! You only need to provide seven comments if you use TDM samples. You can't be "late" to a TDM! This will be considered open until the next one goes live next month. You can make up your own scenario, interact with one of the locations in the game, use the welcome process of your character selecting a god house, or use our optional prompt below! You do not need to pick a god house to play on the TDM! You can have your character still in the process of discussing/deciding/despairing instead. If you are accepted to the game, you can keep TDM threads as game canon as long as you fudge some of the details depending on your original thread. If you aren't sure exactly how to do this, you can always ask a mod. Reserves open on May 25 at 12:01AM PST and close on May 31 at 11:59PM PST. Applications open on June 1 at 12:01AM PST and close on June 7 at 11:59PM PST. Please always feel free to contact the mods if you have any questions! Have fun, dear (future?) Wanderers. ♥ ❧ optional scenario. As you enter Asgard proper, many of the natives have gathered into curious crowds to greet these mysterious children of the World Tree. Some of them carry baskets of flowers and nervously offer one to any Wanderers that come near. They are vibrant and colorful, picked from the wilds surrounding Asgard, and they might have an odd effect on your character if they sniff the flowers directly. Purple flowers will make your character very giggly and easily amused by everything they see and hear. Orange flowers will make your character feel very warm all over, like the sun is beating down on them directly. Blue flowers will make your character somewhat short and impatient with anything that seems like even a minor inconvenience to them. Effects of the flowers can wear off anywhere between a few minutes to an hour. And for those new to Asgard, this scenario aligns with some of the general curses we might have in the game! navigation.

Comments

[northerndragon]

At first, before she speaks, he wonders why her smile fades -- then he understands, and his expression hardens as mild displeasure creeps into it.

"Suppose he's our ally now." Then, "Does he know that?"

He hasn't told Daenerys of his own experience with Jaime Lannister, how it had almost seemed like friendship for just a moment, until he had realized that the Kingslayer was making sport of him and of the Watch.

But that was long ago, when he was a green and thin-skinned bastard boy.

[dorzalta]

He's better at schooling his expression. When she'd met ser Jaime, she'd been snarling at him.

"Insofar as we can be, I suppose." Her tone is flippant. Warning enough to still maintain one's guard around him. "He didn't dispute my claim of it."

If he didn't recall that meeting in the Dragonpit, surely he'd have mentioned it. He'd had no qualms about laughing over his friend saving his life when she'd asked him how he survived.

"He told me something--about my father." It takes a moment to draw her thoughts together. "He said my caretakers likely thought it best to shield me from his terrors, but if I intended to become queen, I should be aware of what he'd done.

"He said that my father executed a man by forcing him to strangle himself as he tried to save his burning father." She's looking him in the eye, now. When they met, he said her father burned his family. "That you would know enough about it. Is it true?"

[northerndragon]

He looks away from her when she asks that, even though he's holding her in his arms. The way her gaze is so square makes him glance at the ground off to her side, then nod.

"That was my uncle Brandon, the man who was strangled. And my grandfather who was burned in his armor. It's why the North rose up. Your father demanded my father's head, when my father had done nothing against the crown."

Now he looks back at her, tense, close to apologetic.

[dorzalta]

He would know plenty Jaime had said... and he did. Jon knew enough.

[ As she continues to watch him, her jaw clenches, her throat works. It would be easier to look away. She wants to look away, because 'being burned' doesn't sound nearly as horrific as what she'd been told truly happened. ]

And you still entertained me when I asked you to forgive my House.

[ Viserys never told her this. Ser Jorah, ser Barristan, not even Tyrion. No one thought to tell her this. ]

He summoned them south--why?

[northerndragon]

I did. The old quarrels, the old hatreds... they won’t serve us now. I didn’t come to fight you over what your father did; he paid for his crimes with his life. I came to make an alliance with you.

[It’s not hard to see that she’s horrified by the true story, and it’s not hard to tell that, for one reason and another, it’s been kept from her in the past.]

Your brother, the older one, he kidnapped my aunt when she was on her way to Brandon’s wedding. Brandon went down to King’s Landing to get her back. He wanted to fight your brother, but the king imprisoned him instead and summoned my grandfather.

[The imprisonment, at least, he can understand, but he can also understand why his uncle might have thundered down to King’s Landing to help a beloved younger sister.]

They never knew where my aunt was. Not until my father found her after the war and brought back her bones.

jfc I almost did brackets again kfdjghlfkdjg

[dorzalta]

"Because of the dead."

Others want to make her pay for her father's crimes. Would he feel the same way if the dead were nothing more than a story? Would he have answered her summons?

Finally, she looks away, off to her left. The grass is full, not trampled by countless feet, bright like the Dothraki Sea's grass is.

"Kidnapped and raped her, if you listen to the Usurper's side." Viserys, for all his faults and want of vengeance, spoke of their elder brother's death being one for love. For Lyanna Stark. "Perhaps the Kingslayer's right."

tick tick tick tick tick tick... (that’s the sound of a ticking plot bomb)

[northerndragon]

They both know it’s because of the Dead, so to that, he says nothing. It’s not until she speaks of his aunt that he replies.

“You heard a different story of my aunt Lyanna?” He shouldn’t be surprised. If the younger of her two brothers had shielded knowledge of her father’s crimes from her, why wouldn’t he have lied to her about what the elder brother had done?

TIME TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT

[dorzalta]

"Viserys said my brother died for his love." She's looking back at him now, brows lightly furrowed. "Ser Barristan did not speak of a man who would kidnap and defile a woman."

She couldn't very well ask the Kingslayer about Rhaegar. Not now, at least. Instead, there were a pile of corpses who might've known the truth of this, all turned to dust as time skipped ahead.

"What sort of woman was your aunt?"

[northerndragon]

He shakes his head: he doesn’t know much.

“My father would hardly speak of her. She was still half a child, sixteen or thereabouts. I’ve heard that she liked to ride, and that she was beautiful.”

It had never mattered to him much, except that she was a lady of the North who had been treated ill. That the war had led to his own birth is all that holds real interest for him, but it still won’t tell him who his mother is. He’s nearly given up wondering, long since resigned to the fact that the knowledge died when his father did.

[dorzalta]

"We inherited their wars and their dislikes, and we hardly know why."

Her smile's dim. It doesn't stop her from reaching up to trace the pads of her fingers along his jaw.

"Seems like we've stumbled into another mess."

[northerndragon]

“I like you,” he says, contradicting her. They don’t have to inherit each other’s wars and dislikes. They don’t have to hate each other because of what passed between their fathers, or their grandfathers. The only thing they can be certain of is today, right now, and that they love each other.

“Is it better, here, to have allies, or to fight each other over things that won’t matter again until we leave, that may not matter even then?

[dorzalta]

"Reason enough to not expect a knife in the back from you." Her smile grows, just a little. Fonder. "Now tell that to the rest of them."

He's made his point. She might not like the Kingslayer, but they were under a sort of ceasefire for now that she would continue to respect. She's already given him the assurance she wouldn't cause him harm.

"Theon is particularly hateful. I don't think he'd enjoy hearing your logic."

Now starring Aegon Targaryen as Jon Snow as Boo Boo The Fool

[northerndragon]

His smile becomes fonder to the point of indulgence. He doesn’t have to tell her that she doesn’t have to worry about that, doesn’t ever have to worry that he would hurt her and mean to do it, because they both know it. There is nothing she could do that she would do that could ever make him turn against her.

But Theon... that’s another tale. Some of the sweetness fades from Jon’s expression, replaced by trouble.

“Greyjoy never much liked hearing anything from me until we met on Dragonstone. When we were boys... we weren’t friends. Then he betrayed Robb. There were many years when I would have killed him on sight.”

ugly laughs....sob

[dorzalta]

He could melt hearts with that smile. He's already melted hers, loathe as she is to admit to something so girlish and dainty.

"Messy," she says again, giving his chest a good poke. "Now you're older and wiser. Handsomer?" A lift of the brows.

Her opinion of him is clearly biased.

"He looked younger, in any case. You should keep that in mind." It's a gentle reminder. "How will you deal with a belligerent child?"

blah blah ASOIAF and its masculinity issues

[northerndragon]

He chuckles again when she pokes him. He knows his reputation is for being dour like any Northerner, and brooding well beyond that, but she makes him feel light. She makes him smile; he laughs because he’s unable to help himself. He isn’t sure that he’s handsome, but people used to tell him that he was pretty as a girl if they wanted him to feel like less of a man. What he likes is that she likes how he looks... her, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Gods, this is what being in love is like. He remembers it now. He’d never thought to feel it again, and to feel it even more than he had in the past. Why hadn’t he and Dany schemed to choose the same patron here, so that they might be together as often as they could?

So this time, the smile doesn’t fully vanish when he speaks of Theon.

“Same way I always did. Ignore him until I can’t anymore.” It’s too bad Robb isn’t here to handle the situation, to act as a wall between them. Maybe they just won’t see each other much.

[dorzalta]

Her smile stretches into a grin. There's been laughter since he's spent each and every night in her bed. More of it than she's ever heard from him before. More than the quiet snorts of amusement, or the softer smiles that came with a joke in a bleak moment like in the Dragonpit.

Sometimes, in moments like these, he almost seems like too much. Brighter than sunshine.

She arches a brow at him, tilting her head. Her palm is flat against his chest.

"What happens when you can't ignore him any longer?" She's an idea, and it doesn't sound very pleasant.

[northerndragon]

He gives her a reproachful look. He can ignore Greyjoy for quite a long time, if need be.

“Do you mean, what happens when he’s not ignoring me?

“Suppose that depends on him.”

[dorzalta]

That look. She rolls her eyes.

"He seems too angry to ignore someone properly." Hiding the anger behind cockiness. It reminds her of Viserys. "Try to remember he is our ally back in our time?"

[northerndragon]

“You’d be surprised. I’m a bastard, he’s trueborn. If he’s angry, it will be because...”

He raises his eyebrows, and the look becomes meaningful: Because the North made him king, once, and because a queen loves him.

“The trouble won’t be me forgetting that he’s our ally, it will be him not knowing. I’ll do what I can, Dany.” But what he can do might not be much.

[dorzalta]

Her lips purse, just enough to silently voice her displeasure over him reminding her he's a bastard. If only you grew up across the sea with me, my sweet.

"Then knock it into his head until he does know." A dry tone, difficult to tell if she's actually being serious. "I know you will."

[northerndragon]

“Can’t knock the heads of allies. Their bannermen don’t like it.”

But he moves in close against her again, the way he ordinarily wouldn’t with so many people around, as if he’s going to kiss her. It’s like she’s the only woman here... until one of the natives brushes past, carrying a stack of rough breeches and pliant soft tunics with high round necks. He watches them pass, looking skeptical.

“Don’t know what to make of the clothes here.”

[dorzalta]

"I don't think his sister would complain--whether he deserved it or not."

He moves in close enough that she does think he intends on kissing her. She even tilts her head for one--but he looks away. Off after another person, no less, with a bundle of fabric in hand. The natives here wear enough of their own stylings that she already knows she'll be obtaining bolts of fabric to make her own clothing. Might be that she'll have to do the same for him, judging by the look on his face.

"Not enough furs?"

[northerndragon]

He turns his face back to her.

“Bit warm for furs.” Flirtatious again. He tilts his head as he leans in for that kiss.

Yet already, it’s strange to him that it is so warm and pleasant. It’s been a long time since he’s seen the like, and it’s never really so pleasant in the North. Maybe a high summer day years back in his childhood.

[dorzalta]

And she looks as if she's about to accept it. Even lifts her chin to meet him for that kiss... except right when their lips are about to meet, she's leaning back. Her hands on him tighten for balance, more of her weight in her hold versus on her feet, forcing him to chase after her lips if he wants that kiss.

The way her brows lift in challenge, maybe he might.

"You didn't need them in my room, either."

[northerndragon]

He does chase after her lips, leaning in. If it goes much further, they could topple... or he might kiss her jaw, or a place below her ear.

“Clothes weren’t much needed, in your bed.”

He isn’t sure he’s ever said something like that before.

No — he has. But not to her.

“I love you, Dany.” That’s the simple fact, with no confusion in it, only the overwhelming helpless affection he’d never expected to come to him.