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February-March 2024 Test Drive Meme
February-March 2024 TDM
Introduction
Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.
All TDMs are game canon and work like "mini-events". For new players and characters, you can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Current players are also allowed to have in-game characters post to the TDM so long as they mark their top levels ‘Current Character.’
TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.
Playing and interacting with the TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.
🦊 New Star Children meet the Fox still in their worlds, and she brings them into the new realm of Folkmore. As you follow her, your body begins to change and new characteristics emerge. These may stay for a while, or perhaps they will hide away after. And during all of this, the Fox explains to you where you will be going: to Folkmore.
and then... you fall like a shooting star, falling to the land in a burst of starlight.
🦊 Experienced Star Children are already familiar with this time of the month. There are shooting stars all across the sky, and some fall to the land, which means the Fox has brought new arrivals. These newly arrived Star Children will face some tests, but Thirteen wants the more seasoned residents to participate as well.
Perhaps you follow the falling stars on your own, or perhaps the Fox simply teleports you there, but it appears you too will be part of this.
Content Warnings: Power Nullification, Potential Kidnapping, Potential Animal Spirit Harm
The island of Never Fade can no longer be seen in the sky from elsewhere in Folkmore, enclosed within a large purple tinted cloud. Within that cloud, the island is under water—a dreamy purple underwater that all Star Children can breath in if they breath and function in if they function on electricity, so on and so forth. It causes no more difficulties than reduced visibility and greater effort to walk. It's even possible to swim underneath the island, so long as Star Children make sure to make landfall before they get too exhausted and… well… fall.
Friendnapped
Spread the Love
The island of Never Fade can no longer be seen in the sky from elsewhere in Folkmore, enclosed within a large purple tinted cloud. Within that cloud, the island is under water—a dreamy purple underwater that all Star Children can breath in if they breath and function in if they function on electricity, so on and so forth. It causes no more difficulties than reduced visibility and greater effort to walk. It's even possible to swim underneath the island, so long as Star Children make sure to make landfall before they get too exhausted and… well… fall.
Friendnapped
The purple water has streaks of silver shot throughout it. Beware, these silver streaks neutralize powers, canon and role abilities alike, for at least an hour. A neutralized Legend won't be able to sense others in danger. A neutralized Myth won't sense danger coming. A neutralized Familiar won't be able to shapeshift to help others. That may set of a danger alarm but not any spidey-sense. These silver streaks are harbingers of spirits recently returned to Folkmore thanks to donations at the Shattered Spoon Shrine: lonely sharks.
The source of the silver streaks in the water, these silver gray sharks swim up and gently bite people. These bites make people go instantly limp but otherwise don't do any damage. They won't even break the skin. Once limp, the lonely sharks take theirpreynew best friends down to a cave or grotto off the underside of Never Fade. These caves are full of silver water, saturated by the magic of lonely sharks, and the entrances are covered by a thin silver barrier that prevents Star Children from leaving. That means should a Star Child track down where someone is being kept, should they enter its home, they too will be trapped there.
Being held by the lonely sharks isn't the worst experience. These spirits will try to please their new friends, giving them their favorite foods and perhaps even an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item. Mind, the magic of these items will be neutralized in the shark's cave. It is possible to fight a lonely shark, even to kill one, but that will only be a temporary measure. Star Children will remain trapped and have to wait for the lonely shark to revive—with even more golden cracks than before. In the end, the only way to escape are hugs, cuddles, and other measures of friendship. Once all the golden cracks have thinned and disappeared, Star Children can leave.
Spread the Love
By the time mid-March comes around, most of the lonely sharks have been fully healed and no longer kidnap Star Children. Instead they swim the None of the Above tunnels below the island's surface, where they provide guidance to Star Children who ask them how to get somewhere. If Star Children have nowhere particular in mind, the lonely sharks encourage Star Children to make their way toward the Shattered Spoon Shrine.
The lonely sharks still create silver streaks in the water that neutralize powers, but they will accompany Star Children and warn them of some of the dangers. When voices call their names, the sharks will snuggle up against Star Children to provide comfort. They're devoted to helping Star Children reach the shrine. Once there, they will encourage the Star Children to donate Lore to one of the broken spoons there, each spoon representing spirits who have left, spirits who became shells of themselves from lack of lore, or ghosts.
Star Children who donate Lore will find their companion lonely shark presenting them with an item from home. This may even be a weapon or magical item. Mind, the magic will be neutralized until the Star Child has spent at least an hour away from the silvery water lonely sharks create. Lonely sharks will happily spend as much time with Star Children as they're willing but will show the way back to the surface either via LIM (Lavender Institute of the Mind) or the None of the Above tunnels.
- Never Fade is underwater within a cloud.
- Silver streaks in the water neutralize powers, both canon and Role based.
- Lonely sharks kidnap Star Children and take them to caves on the underside of Never Fade.
- Star Children who find those caves are trapped too.
- Escape by hugs, cuddles, and being friends.
- By the second month, most lonely sharks are healed and found in the tunnels.
- Lonely sharks guide Star Children to the Shattered Spoon Shrine to donate Lore to help others.
- Either when captive or once donating Lore, lonely sharks will give Star Children an item from home.
Content Warnings: Forced Relocation, Potential Secret Revelation, Potential Coerced Physical Intimacy
With the wide range of Star Children from many different worlds, sharing similarities, it's no surprise when moments of deja vu happen. That sense of the familiar with the new, the sense of something that happened before without quite being able to place it… or perhaps it being impossible. Regardless, when that connective moment happens, the Star Children involved are transported to a windmill home from the Cloud Colonies. They land together on a couch before a large television with all the makings of a movie night. There could be wine and cheese. There could be soda and popcorn. There could be tea or other hot beverages. There's a cozy blanket (only one). The movie has already been selected, and it starts playing.
Headliner
Remake
With the wide range of Star Children from many different worlds, sharing similarities, it's no surprise when moments of deja vu happen. That sense of the familiar with the new, the sense of something that happened before without quite being able to place it… or perhaps it being impossible. Regardless, when that connective moment happens, the Star Children involved are transported to a windmill home from the Cloud Colonies. They land together on a couch before a large television with all the makings of a movie night. There could be wine and cheese. There could be soda and popcorn. There could be tea or other hot beverages. There's a cozy blanket (only one). The movie has already been selected, and it starts playing.
Headliner
The movie is roughly based off one of the Star Children's lives, specifically for the Star Child that experience deja vu and triggered this experience. Regardless of the moment of deja vu, the plot of the movie is based off of some real or potential relationship—romantic or queer platonic—in their life. That Star Child can recognize some similarities immediately. If they had any doubts, they get a text message on their relic as the movie starts:
You need to get closer with your companion(s). You can either talk about what happened (or didn't) or not talk wink wink about it with them. The choice is yours (and theirs)! Have fun!
It's possible to ignore the message, at least for a while. The longer the movie plays, the more apparent it becomes that it's based off that Star Child. The starring character's clothes will change to resemble theirs. The cadence of their voice will shift to imitate theirs. Their facial features will shift. These changes will become more and more heavy handed as the movie goes on until even the most clueless companion will have real trouble not picking up on it. It may get harder and harder to distract them from talking about it! There's no pause button, and the only way to mute the movie is to *ahem* distract themselves from it until it becomes an indistinct background murmur.
Remake
If any Star Children thought this experience might have been a Valentine's Day prank, they'll be poorly mistaken come mid-March when it continues with a twist. The movie less closely resembles any one Star Child's life (whew?)… because it blends the lives of all those present together into a new story. One character is based off each Star Child, and it fits the other Star Child into the role of someone who was or could have been emotionally and/or physically intimate with them. If they had any doubts, each Star child gets a text message on their relic as the movie starts:
You need to get closer with your companion(s). You can either talk about what happened (or didn't) or not talk wink wink about it with them. The choice is yours (and theirs)! Have fun!
Not only does each Star Child have to decide what approach they want to take, but the other Star Child may pick up on what they're putting down! One Star Child may want to talk it out, but the other one desperately doesn't. Oh noes, how shall it be resolved? Well, the longer it takes, the more clearly the film demonstrates one way they could resolve it—a fictionalized ending, happy or sad or bittersweet or anything else, between the characters as they more closely resemble those watching them on the sofa. No one's free until they have a heart to heart or a something to something else. Any physical intimacy can do.
- Experience a moment of deja vu and get transported to a cozy living room in a Cloud Colony windmill.
- For the first month, the 'host' Star Child gets a text letting them know to get intimate—emotionally or physically.
- For the second month, all Star Children get that text.
- For the first month, the movie is based on the 'host' Star Child's experiences, what did or could have happened. As the movie progresses, it becomes more and more obvious that's the case.
- For the second month, the movie is a story blending Star Children's experiences together. That too will become more obvious over time.
- Some form of intimacy is the only way out!
Inspector Javert | Les Misérables (Novel) | Familiar
He heard her in his mind upon the rail of a lonely bridge, his intentions interrupted.
She was the voice of the earth, of nature, of fairytales and folk magic, like the tales from the peasant bands of the Asturias and the wandering peoples of the mountains. Like a fable spun out of the colorful mouths of his childhood, weathered and ragged encampments weaving a fantasy for their half-starved children better than the real world could ever provide. The voice contorts, gives way, plucks a faded memory deep down of a world-weary, penniless mother doing all she must to shield her child from the horrors of the streets. He could not ignore her gentle, motherly commands even if he wished to, the fire of warmth and impossible familiarity kindling in his broken and battered soul.
The fox leapt gracefully upon the parapet, her magnificent red tail aglow in the moonlight.
Follow me. Not to Hell, but to Folkmore, Familiar. Begin anew. Like a warm stove, he felt the truth of her echo; when his trance ebbs and wanes, he will wonder how he is expected to start again, whether it is possible for a hollow man stripped of his understanding of the world to deserve this chance.
Whether it is right. Or just.
She jumped.
He fell, like a long shadow from the rail, the choice he would have made with or without her.
The river below never claimed him. He left that world before the rapids battered his lungs to pulp. He drifted off, down, up, away, dappled with starlight, into the comfort of a world melting away, never to patrol the streets of Paris again.
Friendnapped
Water did catch him, but not as he expected. This liquid body was like a cloud, cushioning his fall from the heavens far above. Javert shakes off the last fading embers of starlight when he pushes himself to a seat, gathering his bearings.
Impossibly, he can breathe, and his breast does not burn for it. He can breathe, and yet he feels the weightlessness of water all around him, his hair wet, the skirts of his iron gray frock coat fanning out around him.
He is changed, too, he senses, though he has no mirror to confirm. He felt it happening even before he dissolved and contorted into motes of star fire: claws of a beast, the ears of one of the great cats, whiskers which bled into his own two forests of black-and-gray hair framing his face. A fierce blunted nose, sharper and broader than he remembers it. Eyes keen as an eagle’s, the brow low and feathered atop shrewd amber irises.
If he tries to probe that promised changedness (as the Fox-woman told him) any further, he will run into a wall. Something has emptied him, cordoned off this new piece of himself. Blunted. Stunted. Heavy, dark, and cold.
Very well. He shall have to gather himself up and continue.
He had barely the time to resolve himself to wander when his ears prick up at the whooshing sound of a struggle, and a gray creature, hauling a— person? Swims past, diving down below, to the underside of the island jutting clear out into the purple waters.
Javert’s police instincts kick in, his head unable to reconcile so many witnessed impossibilities in such a short amount of time that he merely accepts what he sees. There is mischief afoot; what will they do with their seized and subdued victim? Feast upon their innards?
Urgency impels him, not conscious thought. He follows, his kicks and paddles as swift as his massive mitts can carry him.
Friendnapped II
Which brings him to his current predicament.
Trapped. Warmed. Made comfortable. Seated within a quiet grotto with one-or-two other victims alongside him, and the pleading black, glassy eyes of a shark spirit plopping trinket after trinket into his hands.
First a police cudgel. Then his hat, which he was sure he left behind upon a bridge parapet in Paris. A hunk of black bread. A deck of tarot cards, which screws up his already-ferocious face unpleasantly. And, lastly, a police badge encased in glass, with his name scrawled upon the front side: JAVERT, Inspector of the First Class, Aged Fifty-Two.
That last item makes his face slacken and dull. He presses his broad thumb over his name, blotting it from sight.
Without looking up at the shark again, he murmurs blandly,
"This shan’t work, whatever-it-is you want. Eat me, or don’t." He jerks his chin toward the person beside him, his pupils fixing upon the stranger. "Incredible. I meant to nab you and get you out of this wretched place, when I saw this thing hauling you off in its jaws. Now see what has become of us!"
Wildcard
[Hey, fling anything at me and I'm happy to roll with it! You can also reach me at my plurk
ii.
A well dressed man in some kind of period uniform followed, clearly trying to save Henry. And now, here they are, trapped together in the shark's grotto.
Henry looks up from the item in his hands— an iPhone 3— when he's spoken to, trying his best to shift his focus away from the pictures of his family in his photo app, towards his new companion instead. He sticks the phone in a pocket of his cargo shorts for now.
"Oh, and I'm real grateful that you tried! Thanks for that, honestly. But I don't think he wants to eat us. If he did, he would've eaten me right away, instead of bringing me— bringing us— here."
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Allow what, you may ask? Allow occurrences. Allow the world to happen to him, rather than him to impress his willing action upon the world.
At least his companion seems to be in good enough spirits, and willing to talk. Javert eyeballs the strange device he drops into his pocket, a dearth of recognition (and a smack of intrigue) in his look, then drops his lids back to his own belongings.
"Then what does the creature want?" he muses distantly. He tips his hat upon his head, where it sits crookedly. The unkemptness doesn't suit his figure, upright and stiff in spite of his pervasive melancholy. "To mock us?"
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"Well," he starts, "a lot of times when these sort of things happen, it's by Thirteen's design in some way. Like, there's some lesson she wants us to learn from it. About ourselves, or about each other."
He's interrupted when the shark swims over and deposits another gift in Henry's lap: an airpods case. Henry just smiles, and reaches out the pat the shark on the nose.
"Thanks, buddy. This is a great gift. I really appreciate it."
The shark seems pleased by Henry's show of gratitude... But not pleased enough to release them, as it turns and swims back into the depths of the cave. Henry sighs again. "Ah, dang. I was kind of hoping if we were nice to him, he'd let us go. But I guess that's not the answer."
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I
Of course she'd been fascinated by the silver streaks in the water. Of course she'd pursued them. Of course she'd tried to get closer to the silver sharks. She's practically made herself easy prey. It was mostly her faith in Thirteen that told her it would be all right, somehow. And after spending some time in the shark's lair, stroking its gleaming, silver back, she'd managed to escape.
It seemed, however, that the shark wanted more petting. She only made it halfway to the surface before it pursued her. And while it wasn't violent, it was persistent. Eventually, she decided the best course of action was to just go back with it, lull it with additional snuggles, and then make a much faster escape.
So there she was, streaking back through the strange, purple mist, her long hair loose and floating being her like the tail of a comet. Not exactly a damsel in distress. More a damsel slightly irritated.
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"You there! Halt!" he shouts after the shark, kicking his legs furiously to follow. He's only a mediocre swimmer, in truth. Someday, when he learns to Shift, he will sprout fins and glide like the most elegant of otters, but today he is sloppy. Still, he inches closer, his hand outstretched to grasp something of hers--her hair is closest in reach--and pry her carefully out of the shark's mouth.
"Unhand her at once, or I shall kick, you hear me? Do you speak like the Fox-Woman could?"
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"Get back!" she called to him. "Don't draw attention to yourself or he'll take you too." She wasn't sure when she'd decided the shark was a 'he.' She had absolutely no knowledge of marine biology whatsoever. And also, "He doesn't speak!"
Fox-Woman, huh? Probably a new arrival. It was that time of the month (she failed to understand why people laughed whenever she made that observation out loud). Poor thing probably didn't know what a trial looked like.
She tried to wave him off with her free hand, but it was too late. The shark heard Javert and wheeled around, clearly interested in collecting a new friend.
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CW: Brief reference to death by drowning
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CW: mild suicidal ideation at the end
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We can just about wrap this thread up and move on to the main game, I think!
ii
She smiles at Javert, cheerful if anything. "I think the shark wants to be our friend! He just went about it the wrong way is all!" She wiggles free of the blanket, setting aside what the shark had given her to stand up. "Lemme see if I can pet it."
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"Are you mad, mademoiselle?" he hisses in an undertone, his glance darting urgently towards the cave entrance. Can the shark hear? He prays not. He crouches down to scoop up his cudgel, his hat, his-- he hesitates at Luz's feet, frowning at the badge as if it might burn him if he grasped it again. "That is a sea-beast. Don't give him the opportunity to tear a limb off with his bite."
It sounds ludicrous even as he says it, after what he's seen from the sharks.
"Tell me something. How does one go about making friends with a fish? He is no horse. They are untamable."
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Luz taps the side of her forehead with a smile, "It had to bite me to bring me here, it could have eaten me then, but it didn't!" The fourteen year old is working off half logic, half hope, but it has never really stopped her before. "So it must want us here for something." Luz is assuming friendship given how many gifts were doled out.
"I assume the way you approach any animal? Nicely?" Luz offers back, working off of her experience from helping her mother at the vet's office she ran.
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kidnapped part two
The owlbear beside the man towers over him even while they are both seated at the edge of the pool, their mossy-green feathers gleaming prettily against the shifting reflection of the water. Dressed in a lavender gown with a stiff bodice covered in curling embroidery, their oversized, swooping tulle sleeves hide the bulk of their long wings away, keeping them delicately tucked against their side, the sleeves pinched carefully around their wrist with shining pearls.
And above their head, a halo of living peonies in constant bloom, fragrant and colorful.
In their massive, taloned paw, a shark pushes a water-bloated piece of parchment into their feathery palm. Delloso de la Rue's gaze narrows briefly on the gift, a gentle pinch at their cheek, before they slip the letter into their pocket. Out of sight, out of mind. This is not the time to dwell on the messy past.
They must slip free of this place first.
"Truly, I appreciate that you even tried. At least, whatever their intentions, these sharks do not seem particularly vicious."
I gasped softly. RUE IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!! CW: unintentional misgendering
so...
Comely.
In any case, he must bluntly accept what his senses and intuition tell him, or he shall end up a stark-raving mad puddle on the floor, utterly useless, inactive. Best not to dwell on the impossibilities flung at him, one after the other after another.
He self-consciously averts his gaze from the Angel's parchment, catching only a line or two before they tuck it into their pocket. It entices him to drop his own badge out of sight before the nosy questions come his way. A silent agreement, then; let the past stay in its messy, unwholesome place in history, and let us not probe too deeply into one another's hidden personal grievances.
"If only they would be, so we have got reasonable cause to wrest our way through and out," Javert murmurs sullenly. "As it stands their only crime is man-snatching. Though on my part, I have hardly been snatched from anywhere of importance."
I can afford to rot here with the fishes. He raises his eyes up, up, to the Owl-Bear-Angel's face, pupils skirting the delicate halo of blooms, frown uncertain.
"But, you." He presses his lips together, thinking deeply. "Perhaps they want a deal, an exchange. My dedication and service to whatever-they-want in exchange for your freedom."
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"-it all, I know my reasoning will not seem very reasonable. These places...the things they have brought upon us, the things we have been made to see and live and do, have opened my eyes to the folly of my being. I am not, and have never been, of strong enough constitution to persevere in the face of such odds-"
But then the parchment is politely tucked away and Rue's full attention falls upon the figure beside them.
Less than a year within this realm, but still, the owlbear considers themself quite the socialite around Folkmore. And this man has either been avoiding every party, event and network call for months, or he's newly arrived to this place, dropped into the ocean before being dragged away by the sharks.
What an introduction to finding your true potential!
Even consider current circumstances, Rue's heart-shaped face softens, their big eyes warming with welcoming smile as they clack their beak together in a gentle, but scolding tut.
"Nonsense, good sir. I have no intentions of leaving you to the sharks while I stroll freely. No, we will find our way out together." Or they can simply wait for any of Rue's sons to catch wind of their parent's predicament and come save them both. "I do not know how much Thirteen has told you of this world yet, but she is quite fond of putting us all through strange trials like this. Anything to draw out our full potential."
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II
"I see." Her tone is less dramatic than his though she does sound somewhat annoyed. It's not personal. She just has things that she'd rather be doing. "We just have to figure out what they want."
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In contrast to Kate's rich, refined poise, Javert is a man succinctly described as old-fashioned. He looks like he stepped out of a period film, his iron gray frock coat woven from heavy wool, his cravat loosed, the hat in his hands weathered and threadbare, his riding boots well-worn. He speaks like a historical novel, too, clipped and a touch too formal for a modern orator.
He pockets his badge with a frown, then tips the hat upon his head. It compounds his already-lofty height, and casts a shadow just right over his eagle's eyes. Let him look imposing, even if his spirit feels crushed beneath it all. He appraises his woman-companion thoughtfully, his frown drooping crookedly with a fresh idea.
"You strike me as a well-kept woman. I might offer to take your place, Madame," he offers slowly, rudely, even, though he means no offense by his observations about her. She looks Important. He happens to be reduced to the bag of flesh that carries him, a sack of nothing remarkable. He has nowhere else to be but with the fishes. "Bid them to let you go on your way and have them keep me for this farce. Surely they can be convinced to allow one of us to walk free."
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She observes him for a moment much for her benefit as well as his. Javert looks as though he's stepped straight out of a Charles Dickens novel. She's not going to judge him for what he's wearing. Time doesn't matter to Thirteen. They can pluck people from wherever and whenever. She doesn't want to scare him or make the situation worse by immediately dumping on him.
However, what must a thoroughly modern-dressed woman look like to him? Kate with her bright coat and gloves, wearing trousers and hair just loosely pulled back. At least she isn't showing ankle or worse, kneecaps. Maybe she is a surprise to him.
She listens to him speak and isn't quite sure what to make of his observation of her. Is he calling her a kept woman? Her eyes narrow at him. What a rude thing to say. But perhaps he doesn't mean it the way she thinks he does. She cannot be sure and decides to go the graceful route of giving him the benefit of the doubt.
"You don't need to take my place." She doesn't think it's going to be that easy to just switch places. "I don't think I can just tell them to let me go and they will. It has to be more complicated than that."
Just then a shark swims up to Kate with a brown paper bag in its maw. She backs up a little bit. It's a shark after all. The shark leaves the packages with her and then swims off. She reaches for the bag, opens it, and pulls out a small plastic container. "Oh, it's hot. That's odd." She opens the container and can't help but smile as soon as the aroma hits her nose. "Oh, it smells just like my Nonna's lasagna. You know, I have her recipe but try as I might, I can't make it as well as she can."
CW: mild period-appropriate sexism in the text, not spoken aloud
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friendnapped II
Unfortunately he didn't know how to swim so he couldn't avoid the silver streaks in the water. His erratically glowing purple eyes that resonated with his emotions suddenly dimmed completely, the color turning back to his natural brown from when he was still human. He was easy prey for the sharks and he surprised when someone tried to save him.
He silently watched the fool that got caught with him. He was distracted when the shark brought him gifts as well, an empty magic crystal that was useless without his magic to charge it, a totem carved from the wood of his father's ship that was shaped like the sea serpent which had inspired the eight black scales below his right eye from his myth form, and some of his old paint brushes. Not bad. He could save himself some lore for art supplies thanks to this and old paintbrushes were better anyway. One of the paintbrushes had a dark stain that looked suspiciously like blood and he quickly snatched it from view. Seems like they both have secrets.
Animals normally shied away from his magic and he hesitantly pet the friendly shark's snout, careful not to spook him so he didn't accidentally cut him with his claws. It wasn't enough to forgive them for dragging him here and keeping him trapped in this underwater hell, but it was nice.
He turned to Javert with a small glare.
"Are you saying this is my fault? I never asked you to save me."
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He cannot be certain what is staining the brushes, but the way the fellow swiftly shields them from sight makes him wonder. The police investigator within him cannot help but take notes and proceed with a measure of caution.
"No." Javert lifts his gaze to meet the fellow's glare. "I am telling you I make a poor rescuer. How the devil would our predicament be your fault, unless the sharks are trained to your keeping?"
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At least Javert wasn't blaming him for their predicament and his glare softened a little with a noncommittal hum. He still didn't trust him but it was a start. He frowned at his comment about training the sharks and he pulled his hand away from the creature, much to its dismay.
"Don't be ridiculous. I would never trap myself underwater like this."
He was barely keeping his panic hidden as it was and the feathery looking spines along his arm bristled slightly. The shark seemed to sense something and it nudged against him, even as he tried to push it away. You are not helping him prove that he has nothing to do with this. He decided to try to change the subject as he wrestled with the affectionate shark.
"Why did you try to save me?"
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cw: drowning mention
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the snail returns! sorry I'm so late
Friendnapped II
Now assured he was awake and alert, the shark focused expectantly on Astarion. "I... see." What the elf wouldn't give for a potion of Speak With Animals right about now. All that said, though, the animal's look was somewhat familiar...
"Actually, I have some experience with this sort of thing... believe it or not." It apparently hadn't made any attempts to eat either of them, and it continued to bring what appeared to be gifts. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out to pet the creature, which eagerly headbutt into his palm.
"Aha!" Astarion couldn't help a short laugh of disbelief and relief as he stroked the shark's nose. "Well! You're no owlbear, but you're still another baby killer just looking for love, aren't you?"
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It did not take a brilliant leap of logic to conclude that he might be sharing space with a dandyish thief. As it were, Javert had extensive knowledge and experience with Astarion's sort, and to his fine-tuned investigator's eye, he knew that he was looking at the tools of a pickpocket. He tucked his cudgel beneath one arm and thrust his enormous fists (along with his assortment of trinkets) deep into his pockets, where he would be sure to notice an errant pluck of fingers brushing against his possessions. A precaution.
Of course it was a common thief he tried to save. Of course! Javert's expression contracted and dimmed further, pupils gliding after Astarion's long, pale hand, and violently stomped down his prejudices the best he could.
Give the dandy space, you hot blooded fool. You may have glimpsed wrongly. Perhaps he was a locksmith, or the keeper of a wine-cellar, with the bottle he's got. Let him show what sort of man he was. He shall either prove those suspicions wrong, walk face first into your worst expectations, or--
He dared not allow himself to consider the alternatives, his thoughts roiling beneath a flat surface. Not yet. His scorched soul, freshly wounded from Paris, was too tender to yield, and too shattered to break further still.
"Experience with what?" he asked gruffly, a wry, if tired, twist to his tone. He wasn't impressed just yet. He was wary, wholly uncertain what was to come next. "Taming wild beasts? If so, you ought to take your delicate touch and command him to show us out of this place. No baby-killing along the way, thank you."
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He didn't exactly look easy to seduce. That made things more difficult.
"No, no, not baby-killer -- though I can understand the confusion, and I suppose it's entirely possible, given some time. But you see this is a shark pup." Astarion gripped the animal and aimed it at Javert to get a good look, while the creature wagged its tail and generally looked delighted to be handled. "A killer beast. Baby size."
Astarion paused. "Have you tried feeding it?"
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I love Astarion so much
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ii
By the time he was in the grotto and had gotten his bearings a bit, he was joined by a stranger, the same one he's fairly certain who he'd seen trying to swim after him when he'd been initially snatched. And the man looked less than thrilled with the gifts their captor was plying him with. Not that Fjord could blame him; there was small pile growing near him of various trinkets and snacks. A knife had been offered which was the only thing he took, just tucking it into his belt and feeling a bit better for a weapon at hand. His fellow prisoner's complaint just earned a low huff from the half-orc as he shook his head.
"I mean I appreciate the attempt, even if we're both still stuck here," He drawled easily in response, reaching absently as the shark edged closer to him to put a palm to the smooth snout and redirect it away again. "Though I don't think our host would've waited if they were keen on eatin' us."
Yesssssssss
In one fell swoop, he gathered his pocket-sized badge and cards and shoveled them carelessly into his deepest coat pockets. The less questions asked about them, the better.
"Our host also has time aplenty to let us lay here and fatten up," he said dryly, gesturing to the silvery curtain blocking the exit. Two sacks of meat and a predator. Javert was not known for his patience in the face of certain death, and if he could get no closer to solving their conundrum shortly, then he would be certain to start heckling the beast for an end to this. He propped his stiff, straight back against the cavern wall, chin bowed to his breast. "But you are right. Sharks are not known for their cunning or foresight. Frenzies, yes; carefully-plotted capture and plumping, no."
Javert paused, steeped in thought, a shadow cast over his eyes. The tips of his tufted feline ears airplaned and lowered in tandem (and it was just as well he did not try to fit his hat upon his head, because he would find that his new telescoping appendages would change how it felt). He watched the shark nuzzle the green man like a pup begging for scratches, and he frowned, pupils constricting to tiny pinpricks in orange-gold irises.
"What you were doing when you were captured?" he asked, ruminating. It sounded like the start of an interrogation, and less like an innocent curiosity; such is his nature, even if his intent was to get to the bottom of this strange puzzle and connect the commonalities between them. "It is an ocean, and evidently it is deep. Quite a place to be out for a jolly swim."
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Javert might observe the way the other shifted, though not in any seemingly purposeful way- when he pushed from where he was before he just seemed slightly smaller than he had before that moment, a bit less broad. Not a problem, not a danger, not a threat to be watched or suspected. Not entirely unlike how a particularly savvy conman or criminal might adjust their behavior when someone in authority comes around. But he wasn't anything like that was he? Just a man who offered a wry, crooked grin at the dry comment, with a hum of consideration.
"Never known sharks to bother with prey if they aren't hungry in the moment, unless something's bloodied," Fjord mused as he once again gave a push to move the shark away, though each time he seemed less annoyed and a bit more bewildered at the eager way the shark just tried to snuggle back in again. "They might nip at somethin' then but usually that's just them tryin' to sort out what somethin' is. What bein' they don't have anything other than a mouth to investigate with and all."
Fjord wasn't used to his own new appendages. The tone with which the other man spoke was definitely more interrogation than conversation, and while that might not be entirely on purpose, it definitely had wolfish ears pricking to attention in response, gold eyes turning his way thoughtfully. He didn't think that he'd done anything to rouse that sort of suspicion, it might just be the stranger's nature- he seemed fairly taciturn. But that wouldn't stop him being cautious in his behavior and answers.
"Exploring," Answered easily enough as he caught the shark's nose in his hand again, but this time using the grip to 'wobble' it's face, watching as the gleeful creature allowed that to get it's whole body swaying along with the motion. "Figured I'd start with somethin' that should be most familiar to get my bearin' which generally means starting with the ocean."
A tilt of his head. "What about you? Comin' to strangers rescue some kinda habit of yours?"
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/finally emerges from exam hell
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