medietas_ooc | Test Drive

Entry tags:

!test drive meme

Test Drive

Welcome to Medietas! Are you interested in joining the game? Do you have an old muse you want to dust off? Are you looking for a place to voice test a brand new character and would like to do so in our little island setting? Well, you've come to the right place!

You all know what to do but if you don’t, just follow the instructions and HAVE FUN!

How To Play:

→ Comment with the character you’d like to test drive. Don’t forget to add their name and canon in the subject line.
→ Choose a scenario, or start your own!
→ Tag around!

Possible Scenarios:

1. New Arrival: You have just arrived on the island of Medietas, in the city of Aerilon via a floating boat with people you may or may not know. Of course, you can't help wondering what the heck is going on here, or how you even got on the boat in the first place. But as soon as the vessel docks you are greeted by some lovely locals who offer you a map and a communications device before leaving you to your own. You probably have questions and there seems to be a number of people there already who may or may not have those answers. Talk to them! Or, get on the network and introduce yourself!

2. Getting Settled: So, you've arrived, but now there's five islands you should get yourself acquainted with. Meet your starter home neighbors! Start your new job! Check out the market on Aerilon. Or, attend one of the many block parties!

3. Lost!: Somehow you got yourself turned around and confused and getting back to where you want to be is looking impossible.

4. Wild Card: Got something else in mind and want to create your own scenario? Go for it!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He followed her, hoping he did not look like some sort of lost puppy trailing after her, as he pulled himself into a kitchen chair. Looking around at all the ... things that were present here - both familiar and unfamiliar. The refridgerator caught his attention and he moved to open the door, then close it. Then open again, trying to figure out how the light turned off and on.

Ah, yes, there was a switch on the door - clever - but where did the light come from? He eyed the glass bulb, wondering what powered it, when he finally answered her, "... he does deserve it, and I'll confirm it, if necessary. I am glad you have had one another."

"Podrick has made sure no one has harmed me since I've been here and he's offered his life in exchange for mine if Ramsay Bolton shows his face," Sansa says. She knows Podrick will keep her safe and she fears that if Ramsay comes, he'll kill him. It's something she always has to worry about.

"But you're here, now, so he'll be glad to see you. I know that he's worried quite a bit."

"If Ramsey Bolton comes here, the only life that will be exchange will be his for his balls." Tyrion murmurs as he closes the door to the refrigerator, then moves around the kitchen itself, eying the other lights that do not seem to require flame. Fascinating. "Because I plan to make Varys a new friend."

He looked over at her, and smiled, "I shall be happy to see him. I was ... worried over his fate as well."

"He never hurt my face, Tyrion," Sansa says, pulling things out to start a simple dinner for the two of them. "He needed the face of Ned Stark's daughter to cement his claim. Oh, but the rest of me...I think making him a eunuch might be too good for him. It's too quick."

Sansa isn't one for vengeance, really, except in this matter. "Lord Baelish had to have known about him. He prides himself on knowing everything."

Tyrion's hand clenched into a fist at his side at those words, before he swallowed down his anger. He was not angry at her - by the Seven he was not even angry at himself. But Ramsay Bolton and Petyr Baelish ...

"Yes, yes he does." He murmured quietly, before loosening his hand and going to stand next to her. He looked up at that fine profile, cool as ice, and he slips his fingers inbetween hers again. "Whatever you wish to happen to them, my lady wife, I will see it done."

"I would rather like it if the entire Lannister army had their fun with him but I think that's a bit too much for a lady like me to want," Sansa says. She squeezes Tyrion's hand, more desperate than their earlier touch.

"Promise me, Tyrion. Promise me that you'll never hurt me the way he hurt me."

"I have seen the results of that ... and I think it a just punishment. One that fits the crime." He feels the tightness in her grip, and then he looks up at her.

"I promise. I will never hurt you in that way." He rasps out quietly, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "As we have agreed, lady wife. As we will it, and no other."

He sealed that promise, by turning over her hand and kissing her palm gently, knowing his beard would scratch her soft skin, but it made it all the more real.

Sansa closes her eyes. It's such a sweet, tender gesture that it pricks her heart a bit because she's no longer a maiden deserving of such things. And yet, Tyrion doesn't seem to treat her any different.

"It doesn't bother you that I'm not...that I've been defiled, Tyrion?"

He looks up sharply at her for that, before he exhales. Slowly. "You are my wife, Sansa. Whatever was done to you, was not by your choice, or by your leave. I am bothered by Ramsay Bolton - but you ... you deserve nothing but my respect, and my ... my awe."

He clasped her hand in both of his small, stubby ones, his mis-matched eyes fierce. "You should hold no shame, Sansa Stark. The ones who should be ashamed are the monsters who did this to you."

"My lord, he used me worse than a...he made him watch...he made me, and my own blood, when I had to..."

Sansa cannot get the words out. Everything is too horrible and she doesn't deserve to be the wife of a highborn lord after what happened to her. Who would think her worthy to bear their sons now? She won't cry though. There are tears brimming, threatening, but she won't cry.

"Sansa ... Sansa, look at me. Look at me." He squeezed her hand, knowing that she was on the edge of tears but she would not weep. She would tear herself up on the inside first, and he knew all too well how deep those wounds would go.

"You are my lady wife - and as far as I am concerned - you are still the Maiden in my eyes. He may have touched your body but he did not touch you - your spirit, your warmth, and your courage, which have held me in awe ... for ages."

He brought her hand to his lips once more, kissing it gently, his voice tight. "I would be ... proud to be the father of your children. Proud to have you as Lady Lannister and humbled, if you chose to stay married to me. By choice, and not by ... necessity. Never think otherwise."

"He didn't...he wasn't successful in getting a child on me," Sansa says, blinking back tears and looking down at the floor. "I hope that was just the gods looking out for me and not because I can't."

What good would she be as Lady of Casterly Rock if she cannot even do the one thing a bride must do for her husband? It doesn't matter. Tyrion seems not to care about how she's been used and she's grateful for it.

"Tyrion, I'm sorry. I'm crying instead of making your supper and answering your questions. You had more questions, didn't you? About this place?"

"Well, if you cannot have a child than we shall adopt one. We shall adopt a dozen orphan babies and you can be swimming in children and snotty noses and me trying to carrying around at least four babies at once." He stated with a firm tone, one corner of his mouth lifting, "And if you can have my child - by the Seven, bless that poor thing again and make sure he or she looks nothing like me."

He squeezed her hand once more, "I believe at this moment I will keep you from crying than worrying about food -- and yes, let me distract you further. How do these lanterns work?"

Sansa snorts a little at the image of her with a dozen orphans clinging to her skirts and it's the most unladylike noise. She composes herself and gives him a little smile, a true one.

"Well, I want them to have your nose. Now, the lights? It's something called electricity. I don't really understand it but there's a library full of more books than I've ever seen in my life. I'm sure you could find one that explained it."

There we go -- a laugh is better than anything else he could imagine. He crooks a smile at her, before he touches his poor nose. "Less the scar, I trust."

Now he is the one who is brightening, his smile growing. "There is a library? Would you escort me there - after dinner, of course."

Sansa nods quickly. "I will," she says, wiping her tears away. "Gods, you must be starved and here I am crying all over you. I'm sorry, Tyrion, let me get you something to eat."

Once she sets her mind to it, it doesn't take long to make a stew from chicken and fresh vegetables. Sansa has fresh bread and even a few lemoncakes left over from the bakery and she puts those out as well, setting the table daintily.

"Please, eat as much as you want. I have no wine, Tyrion, but I could go get some?"

"My stomach can wait for my lady wife to smile at me again." Tyrion stated simply, and moved out of her way so she could do what she needed to do. He had no idea how to help, so he simply amused her by singing old songs, like 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair'.

He seats himself, with all due manners, tucking the napkin into his lap. One corner of his mouth turned up, and he shook his head, "I have been ... lessening my intake, as of late. I shall be fine with water, if I may have some?"

"Of course you can have water," Sansa says, going to pour him a glass before settling with her own. When she sits down, she cannot help but reach across the table in hopes that he might touch her hand. He did so once, in King's Landing, and she had appreciated the comfort even if she couldn't say anything at the time.

"Is there anything else you might need?"

When a beautiful woman offers you her hand across the table, you take it. Tyrion had been many things, but he had never been an idiot. He folded his fingers around hers, rubbing his thumb along her palm as he ate slowly with the other hand.

"... I am perfectly content, as we are." And -- it was true. He had not felt this at ease in some time.

Sansa likes how it feels when he touches her hand and she wonders if he'll do it more often. She decides she'll ask him over for dinner again. That way, she can be certain he's eaten and that he's eaten well. It's what a wife is supposed to do. As to the other things a wife is supposed to do, Sansa doesn't know how to address those.

"Will you want to share a house with me? We are married, we probably should. So long as there's still room for Podrick and Arya?"

He himself is wondering if he is allowed to hold onto her hand as long as he likes, and thinking they might be stuck together for some time. Even more so, after her question. He pauses, a fork half-way to his mouth, before he asks cautiously, "Is that something you would desire?"

A wave of his free hand, "And I would never dislodge Pod or your sister."

"I would like it," Sansa says, giving him a soft smile. The smiles come easily around him and that comforts her. This is much easier than she thought it would have been.

"So long as you like it?"

At her gentle smile, his own moved up at the corners, easing his expression into something warm. "I would like it, as well."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Test Drive

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