spellgrinders | ( TDM #7 )

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( TDM #7 )

TDMs can be used for anyone interested in the game and/or testing out a new muse.

Test Drive samples are encouraged to be used for your application sample, though they are NOT a requirement.

Feel free to use one prompt, multiple prompts or make up your own!

These threads can be considered game canon upon game opening if you so choose.

Telepathy and magic can be used at any point in time on the TDM, from Prompt A to your wildcard prompt. A specific prompt exists, however, that makes sure all characters have an equal chance to use this mechanic within the TDM. You're encouraged to have characters use telepathy and their magic accidentally or even purposefully on any TDM prompt.

If you aren't set on your character's power yet or want to try out a few, you're still able to use the test drive. Maybe your character is a late bloomer and hasn't fully unlocked their intuitive drive yet. In the case of multiple powers, only prompts that contain the power you choose for your application will count as potential game canon threads.

While only one character can be apped or reserved during a cycle, feel free to post with more than one character if you like! This is for those who are uncertain of their first choice or who would like to try out different characters within the setting.

IMPORTANT: This world is low-frequency. No canon powers or abilities are allowed! Also check out the setting information for more info about Shehui.

You blink and that's all it takes. At first, the picture doesn't come in clear, like you're waiting for a screen to fully load -- more aptly, it's like you're waiting for a camera to focus so you can find image clarity. Before you happened to rapidly close your eyes and open them, your life was normal...well, normal for you, anyway. Fighting an alien, making a quesadilla, dying. And then that blurry picture suddenly takes over.

There's a lot to take in here -- you feel weird, your surroundings are weird. Everything is just weird. For starters, there's that new piece of jewelry inserted in the space above your chest. That certainly wasn't there before you opened your eyes.

aren't

GAME NAVIGATION

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[His call doesn't get Lapis' attention - rather, it's the sound of someone taking a tumble into the snow, concern prompting her to slow down. Coming to a complete stop when she's called "My Lady" ("Lady" is not a word usually used to describe her), gold eyes blinking at him owlishly.

A hand automatically going to her hair at his mention, blinking once more when she feels the warmth at the edges - the flames flickering around her fingers harmlessly. A curious hum escaping her as she reaches to bring one of the flaming strands to her eyes, before her attention turns back to Sion.]

No, not usually. I've only really started setting myself on fire today. [She gives a flip of her hair, her brows furrowing as she turns and sees the strands still burning - at least it's almost pretty, seeing the brown lighten and shine before it becomes flames at the tips.

And then she notices how her dress is on fire too. Welp.]

I can't seem to put myself out either.

How troublesome. [ Shaking his head with a laugh, the fringe of his hair bounces lightly with the motion! ] You'll not be able to venture indoors like that, I'd wager.

[ No more than she would be able to properly walk amid the locals of Shehui. This, Sion has become aware of by (unfortunate) circumstance: the people who dwelled within the dome of a city valued community above all else, such that they approached any anomaly, any outlier, with ill-disguised caution and fear. And for Sion, who always is shrouded by the glow of gold-touched light which limns from his skin, it had meant being avoided (and monitored) from the very beginning.

And lo: he'd found himself taking to the secluded avenues of the city itself.

(But for his companion's benefit, he'll not breathe a word of it.)

Instead: ] What manner of invocation did you use to call forth the flame? Perhaps therein lies the key to dispelling it.

[There's a soft hum of agreement at his words, a hand reaching down to give her skirts a good shake - instead only causing the flames in the dance in the cold air. Still rather oblivious to the natives views of magic, having simply kept to herself as she wondered the frozen streets.

Gold eyes then turning back to Sion, the light shining softly from his skin prompting a blink - wondering if it's simply the light of the flames. Curiosity telling her to peek closer, but she keeps her distance - not wanting to burn him accidentally.

Instead she focuses on his words, humming for a moment as she thinks - absently letting her heel trail across the frozen path in front of her, leaving a trail of melted ice behind.]

I didn't really do anything... But I did think that walking on the ice was a bit annoying, so maybe that prompted it.

[ A bit annoying, she's said, and for a moment, Sion's brow furrows in thought—so she'd woven no equation, no spell, to call forth the magic which bathed her figure in flame—before easing with a measure of familiarity: rather like sword, a manner of magic innate to only him, perhaps her fire is an extension of will. Of her desire to simply do away with the ice beneath her feet altogether.

(And well, it certainly had accomplished just that!) ]

Think, then, on an annoyance of equal measure: how vexing would it be, to return to your quarters after a day spent out in the winter's cold, and not be able to move about as you please?

[ And if that should not work, Sion has already thought on a plan b, one which he readily enacts by extending his hand to her—palm barefaced and open, fingers gently outstretched—such that she'd need only to shift by a hair's breadth to grasp it.

(Just as he cannot feel the cold, he cannot feel the heat of her flame—he would not draw back nor would he flinch away if burned.) ]

Or perhaps, even, what it might be not to be able to reach out to someone, if you wished to.

[Emotions are a powerful thing for Lapis, even if she does her best to hide them - it's not too surprising that her annoyance at the ice could be what caused the flames. Now she needs to figure out why she's suddenly able to set herself on fire.

But she'll think on that once she puts herself out - her attention completely on Sion as he speaks, nodding in understanding. Yet, that doesn't pull much annoyance to her, not caring either way about returning to somewhere that wasn't even home. It was all the same to her.

About to say that doesn't work, before tensing as he offers his hand - the fear of hurting him prompting her to immediately shift back just slightly. People never got close to her often, and now that she knows she's an active danger, she doesn't want to risk anyone getting close.

Her brows furrowing slightly at his words, since without her sister here, there wasn't anyone she would reach out for. For once, she hesitates, both at the unfamiliar gesture and the thought of burning him.]

But I never really do that anyway... And what if I hurt you? I don't want to risk that.

Do not say 'what if'. [ —though the sound of his voice is a gentle thing, somehow yet it is resonant with conviction. With faith in his companion, though they've only just met. And if asked for a reason why (why be so trusting? why put oneself at risk? why reach out to another person?), Sion would answer only with: "we are human". ] Say, instead, 'I will not hurt you'.

[ Unwavering, his hand remains outstretched, though he does not make to step forward where she draws back—never, has Sion been one to force another. ]

If you've never reached out to someone before, then perhaps this can be the start? [ Privately, he wonders what sort of life she must have lead before arriving the city, awakening to find herself alone and with only a signet emblazoned upon her chest as explanation. How lonely, that must have been, and how lonely he'd been before falling into a bank of snow. ] You and I, we are not alone, not here.

We can help one another. If nothing else, believe in that.

[How sure he sounds, how unwavering he is, causes Lapis to blink at him once more - part of her still worried, a voice still screaming inside that she'll hurt him. But she listens to his words, rather than her worries, her eyes flicking between his hand and his face - still not understanding why he's saying this. If she had her usual powers, she's certain he would think otherwise, as everyone does. But...

But she wants to reach out, she doesn't want to be alone. She wants to believe in his words.

So she takes a deep breath, pushing back her hesitation as her hand reaches for his own - telling herself that she won't hurt him, she won't. And as she places her hand in his, her body visible sags in relief when she sees the flames flicker away - her hand secure and warm in his as her expression brightens, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.]

Then I will believe in that... Thank you.

[ She reaches back.

Her fingers outstretched, she reaches for him, and in the instant before her flame might have had any true chance of searing his skin, her fire flickers and it fades, subdued by her will (her determination, her resolve) not to inflict harm.

Pale lashes hooding over golden eyes, his gaze falls downcast, fixing upon the link of their hands, a smile (somehow distant, somehow sad) touching his lips as his fingers curl in a gentle squeeze about her own. Never in his life, did he imagine he'd hold another's hand again. Never, did he think that he could return to himself—the man his friends trusted and believed in—after betraying all that which he once held dear.

And yet--...

Somehow, in this moment, it seems possible because of her, the Lady who could tame fire with but a simple thought.

(Who believed in the strength they could find together.) ]

My heart is glad, that you would share in my sentiment, though... [ A shake of his head; a more playful smile. ] ...there is no need for thanks.

[ For he isn't quite certain how to receive it, or if he is worthy of such a thing.

Instead: ] But perhaps an introduction is in order?

[ ...and in the meanwhile, he'll hold to her hand, unaware of how very cold his fingers are, for he has been out for quite a time in the winter's air, bereft of clothes suited for the wind, snow, and frigid temperature. (Maybe it might have been better if she hadn't willed away her flame and its warmth???) ]

Edited 2017-12-28 23:42 (UTC)

[Emotions are a very powerful thing for Lapis, and her desire to never hurt anyone always outweighs anything else. Even if she might have trouble believing that herself - it's why his words were so reassuring, having never heard that belief from someone else before. And it's why she lets her fingers squeeze around his in return, her touch warm and gentle, though the sight of his sad smile prompts her own to falter.

His words only prompting her expression to soften, wondering what could be wrong (though she puts that thought aside for now), only to then huff softly when he says there's no need for thanks. He helped her to put herself out, and so there's certainly need for thanks for that!]

Well, I wanted to thank you. [And Lapis does what she wants. It's why when she feels just how cold he is, she doesn't hesitate to reach for his other hand, brows furrowing in concern. How is he not noticing how cold he is? Well, either way, Lapis then holds his hands firmly between her own - determined to warm him up.

And this determination may be why her body, and therefore her hands, start to heat up just slightly. Which she doesn't notice just yet, thanks to the cold air.]

My name is Lapis, and you're freezing cold. Maybe there's somewhere nearby we can go into to get warm... [At least she waits for him to introduce himself too, before deciding to drag him along with her.]

[ Endearing to him, that stubborn huff of sound; her assertion that she would do precisely as she pleased, whether or not someone cared to insist otherwise. Though, at first glance, one might say his present companion boasted an impassive countenance, perhaps Lapis is only restrained (by her own choice, whatever the reason), for the way her fingers curl about his own even as she would contest him (well, I wanted to thank you!) surely seems testament enough to the fact. ]

Sion. [ And not freezing cold. ] My name is Sion Astal, King--...!!

[ Of Roland Empire, he does not finish, for quite suddenly, they're on the move, briskly walking down the pathway in search of shelter from the cold.

S-so forceful, Lapis??? ]

It is all right, you know. [ —he reassures while keeping to their hand-hold, falling into the pace which she sets for them (and what a novel thing it is, to be lead after so very, very many years of being the one to pave the way forward for others). ] If there is a chill upon the air, I cannot feel it.

[ But that does not mean it cannot harm him, for while he cannot perceive the temperature, he is not immune to frost-bitten fingers and wind-chapped skin. ]

My sense of these things... I have been without it for what seems like a lifetime, now.

[ Though... if he were to close his eyes and to focus beyond the ever-present thrum of pain which dulled all other sensations, perhaps he could feel it (or, at least, an approximation thereof), the warmth of her hand enveloping his own.

(He doesn't want to forget it.) ]

[Not even the announcement that he's a King is enough to slow her down, her hands still tight and warm around his own, the sound of her heels crunching against the snow still steady. She does, at least, turn to look up at him - the curious light in gold eyes the only change in her expression.]

A King? Hmm, you do certainly look regal. [He, Sion, vaguely reminds Lapis of the handsome kings and princes on the covers of her sisters comics ("manga" a mimic, memory, of her sister insists in the back of her mind) - especially the hair, having never seen hair that shade before. Though her admiration of his features comes to a halt as he speaks, his words doing nothing to soothe her.

If anything, it prompts her fingers to squeeze around his hand once more, her steps picking up speed as she searches for somewhere to duck into. The sight of a small store, lights bright and with condensation around the windows edges, is enough to pull Lapis in that direction - Sion kept by her side as she does so.]

It's not all right. Even if you can't feel it, you can still be affected by it. What if you got frost bite or worse? [Even if she herself had hated the cold, the horrible chill when death sucked the heat from the air, she knew those sense were vital - she couldn't imagine being without them.

And hearing he had been born without those sense causes her heart to sink, brows furrowing even as they step into the warmth of the shop - fully turning to face Sion now as she brings his hands to her lips, warm puffs of breath being blown over his fingers to help bring warmth to them. The concerned furrow of her brow still visible, even with her head is ducked down slightly - her voice soft, more so than usual, when she speaks once more.]

... How did that happen?

[ Their expedition to the storefront is not without its humor—regal, she calls him, and the appraising stare she fixes him beneath easily summons a rise of color to his cheeks (a light dusting of a gold-touched glow, more pronounced now in embarrassment than it had been mere moments before!)—for while Sion has never hesitated to reach out to others, his doing so has always been with a definite role: I will protect you, he has always pronounced, but as he and Lapis make good time and pace through the snow, he can hardly say he is protecting anyone.

Rather—Lapis, who is surprisingly bold???—is the one who looks out for him, seeing to it that he does not lose his footing upon the ice and snow.

To say that he, King of an Empire, is flustered would be an understatement, but even so--...!! He is enjoying himself. Their dash out of the cold and into the small shop is fun, for while they move with purpose (Lapis, she needed to find brief respite and warmth, just as much as he), their goal is a simple one. There is no great legion of soldiers at Sion's back, no sound of warfare in the distance; the decisions he makes now will have no impact upon the world at large, but instead will mean everything to his new-found friend.

Lapis, who safely ushers him inside and brings his fingertips to her lips, blowing the warmth of her breath over them to help the waxen skin regain its color. ]

My Lady--...

[ His voice trails off as he studies her, his expression gentling as he notes the furrow of her brow, his fingers flexing lightly within her grip. If his touch has always been overly delicate, ginger and slow with care, it is because he has never been able to properly gauge the strength of his own grasp; how it might affect another.

(No, he'd never wanted to hurt anyone, either.) ]

It seems I am now the one who must properly convey my gratitude. [ Where he'd trouble accepting her own, moments before. ] I did not mean to worry you with my confession.

[ A small half-smile playing upon his lips, he considers drawing back. Drawing away from Lapis and her question, though he finds he hasn't the will to. ]

Did you know, that I've never seen snow before today...? Perhaps the sight of it made me a bit reckless; I will endeavor to take more care before venturing outdoors again, but...

[ Giving pause, Sion rocks back and forth upon his heels, shifting his weight from toe-box to the back of his foot in an almost childish bid to bide time. ]

There is nothing to worry about, not truly, no more than there is anything to be done about my 'condition'. It is the product of a magic which cannot be unwritten.

[ A curse, he does not say. ]

But, in learning this, I would not have you distrust your own ability. Your flame is beautiful, Lapis.

[Of course the sight of a gold flush to his cheeks, not red or pink, catches her attention. And the more mischevious part, pleased to see that she made him fluster, is tempted to try to get that flush to linger a bit longer - yet, she holds back for now, the search for somewhere warm more important than gently teasing her new companion. The playful twinkle and slight up-turn of her lips the only indicators of her thoughts, before her attention then turns to getting him warmed up.

Even once she has finished warming his fingers with soft puffs of air, she still holds his hands tightly in her own - both a reassure and to stop him from drawing away. Her expression only softening at his gratitude, quiet still as he keeps speaking - another huff escaping her, this one amused as another faint smile tugs at her lips.]

That would explain you not being careful. I can show you how to build a snowman later once we get you some gloves.

[And even as he rocks on his heels, she still keeps her fingers wrapped around his hand - her hold firm but confident as she listens. Her brows furrowing slightly at his explanation, already thinking that it sounds like a curse - something she can't really help with, not as she is right now.

His thoughts on her fire, however, causes golden eyes to blink at him in surprise - humming softly once more as she ducks her head down, looking at where her hands hold around his, her mind drifting to her fears of earlier.]

Thank you, but... But the flame isn't really mine. It isn't the power I was born with. [There's a soft, almost sombre hint to her voice - missing her companions, being able to sense them there. Even if her power terrified others, it was still all she knew.]

So--... [ They are not so dissimilar, are they? Sion had suspected, of course, but now glimpses proof of the matter in Lapis' solemn word; her downcast eyes. Perhaps they'd both been running from something, out in the cold, seeking distraction in the form of exploration and the testing of the boundaries newly imposed upon them.

What happens next is seems a natural progression of things: Sion, ducking his head so that his forehead might briefly rest against Lapis' own, reciprocating all the support and reassurance of their handhold. Already, she's warmed him—his fingers no longer seem so ashen; his pallor has improved—and as they stand together in the shop, Sion finds that he wants for nothing more than for Lapis' worries to be eased.

After all, they've made a promise, haven't they? To believe in one reaching out to one another. ]

Something once intrinsic to you is now gone. [ A missing piece, as it were. ]

When I arrived here, I found myself in a similar situation, but... [ Pulling ever-so-slightly back, he offers her a smile, and wonders if he may ever come to share a moment like this with Iris, his little sister in all the ways which counted, were the fate of Menoris to meet with a favorable end. ] ...will you tell me of this blessing that you were born with?

[ There is something in his gaze which suggests he wants to understand; that he will listen and hold no bias, no ill-favor against her. My Lady... what is it that weighs upon you so? ]

Afterward, I think I should very much like to learn about these 'snowmen' of yours.

[The feeling of his forehead resting against her own, however briefly, causes her to tense in surprise for a brief moment - gold blinking owlishly into gold, before she relaxes once more. This is so new, having someone be this close to her, that wasn't her sister or one of the dead.

But it's nice, and so she wants to cling onto this feeling, just for a little while.

So she stays put, before he pulls away - relieved she isn't the only one to have lost a part of her, even it's upsetting to hear that he's lost the same. And when he calls it a blessing of all things, Lapis can't stop that soft, bitter huff of laughter from escaping her - even if she accepted her powers, she knows that they would never be a blessing.

The understanding in his gaze, however, eases the growing uncertainty about telling him - about pushing away one of the few people who don't seem so scared of her. Even if it's only because he doesn't know.]

It's not really a blessing, since I can hear and speak to the dead. For years my only friends were the dead, so to not be able to see and sense them feels... ["Lonely" is the word that comes to mind, but Lapis pushes that aside - she never admitted to her loneliness before, and she never will.

So with a shake of her head, she pushes that aside, turning the topic of conversation back to him once more.]

Though, before I teach you about snowmen, what power did you have?

The capacity to communicate with those who have gone from the mortal realm... [ Hers is a self-depreciating laugh, a sound which Sion knows all too well, for many a time he has held himself in the same regard: not as someone, but something to be kept away and hidden from others, if only for their benefit. But the ability which she'd revealed to him is nothing if not both startling and signifigant in its power for in his own realm—worlds away from here—the voices and influences of dead were preserved only in relics of old, and never accessible by way of simple channeling alone. ] ...what else might it be, if not an extraordinary blessing?

[ Rather than turn to the idea of snowmen, or the question she's posed to him, he slips his right hand out of her hold, if only so that he might be able to stroke his thumb along the back of her wrist in fleeting caress. Inexplicably, he is drawn to her—their similarities, their differences—and it will be a wonder if the shopkeep does not believe them to be involved in a way which is by far more profound and deep than newly-met acquaintances. ]

Gifts are meant to challenge us, and we will never be without our hardships because of them, but--... [ Challenges, such as being unable to feel the warmth of Lapis' breath, or the material of her jacket beneath his fingertips. Hardships, like facing the world alone. ] I know you used your ability to help others, where you were able, and I am sorry you are without it now.

I vow to you now that I will do all within my power to see you safely returned to your home, my Lady. We will find a way to return to where we belong.

[To hear him still call it a blessing, even when he knows what it is now, causes her eyes to widen for a moment - surprise and shock clear on her expression, however briefly. Her power has been called a number of things over the years, but never a blessing - not even her Grandmother, her mentor in these abilities, called it as such.

It makes it hard to think of a response, only able to furrow her brows once more - unsure of what to say, since isn't it obvious what else her powers could be? A curse, something terrifying, horrible. And yet, that isn't what he says - and this confusion, this brief vulnerability, that lets the flush to rise to her cheeks at the caress.

But she's quick to force that away once more, not noticing how the shopkeeper watches them with barely stifled giggles, already having assumptions of just how close they are. Lapis just forces her expression to become impassive once again, though she can't stop the smile tugging at her lips once more, giving the hand still in hers another gentle squeeze before she loosens her hold.]

I'll just need to do my best to use my new powers to help people here. And thank you, Sion. [For what he called her powers, for his kind words, for his promises.] I vow to do the same for you.

[Then her smile takes a teasing edge to it, a playful light shining in her eyes.]

Though, that wasn't an answer to my question. [But, she won't force it (for now) and instead glances around the shop, before spotting a selection of gloves nearby - not hesitating to drag him over, looking up at him expectantly so that he will pick out a pair. They need to go back into the cold eventually, so she wants him to be at least slightly prepared.]

[ ??? On the wings of her oath (a beautiful promise, something which should have never been within his grasp, but somehow is all the same) she smiles—mischievously, boldly teasing—and she sees him whisked away toward a winter-clothing display??? A display of gloves, to be exact, the garments sitting in a quaint arrangement of hanging rows. This--... is truly modern convenience, isn't it? Apparel, mass-produced instead of tailor-made, and in every color which Sion might have ever cared to imagine. And just for a moment, Sion finds himself overwhelmed, for while he'd very much been in his element while their hands had still been linked, their discussion of magic familiar grounds, this manner of 'shopping' is so very new to someone who hails from a time of oil-lit lamps and horse-drawn carriages.

Ah... what to do??? ]

What do you think of the blue?

[ —he asks with an incline of his head, his golden eyes seeking out her own, awaiting her opinion. After all, she is better versed in this than he, the King who is suddenly rather boyish, reaching to card a hand through the fringe of his hair in a rather sheepish gesture.

(From afar, the shopkeep can no longer stifle their giggles.) ]

[At least she's kind(??) enough to stand back and let him choose - her vow was to help him get back safely after all, and that means making sure he's prepared for the cold weather outside. Though she gets the feeling he's a bit out of his element, his clothing hinting to a place where items of clothing in such a large quantity and in such a variety isn't exactly common.

It's why when he asks of her opinion, she doesn't hesitate to step forward, quietly appraising the gloves he inclines his head towards. The sheepish gesture prompting another smile to tug at the corner of her lips, before reaching for a pair of blue gloves to offer to him - approving of his choice in colour.]

I think blue would suit you, though you should try them on first. [The sound of the giggle catches her attention, golden eyes glancing over at the shopkeeper, who quickly tries to stifle themselves - lips pursing as she looks back at her companion]

Did we do something funny?

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( TDM #7 )

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