medietas_ooc | 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

"Nowhere you can get a decent drink or a whore to bed."

This voice – dry, cultured, cool – comes from behind him, followed rapidly by its owner, striding quick and purposeful. If he's relieved to see his brother, it shows less on his face than in the set of his shoulders.

It is truly dire straits when Tyrion's stunted form is the best thing he's seen all day...but Jaime has always harbored a feeling of affection for his little brother, no matter Cersei's snide remarks. "That was your real question, wasn't it?"

Tyrion's entire body stiffened at that voice. That smooth, cultured, cool voice that he once valued about all others. That he tried to emulate, improve on. That read him stories as a child.

That betrayed him in a dungeon, not that long ago, and thirteen years before then.

He closed his eyes, and clenched his fists, his face, his heart.

" -- I have rather lost my taste for whores. Ever since I found out my first one wasn't a whore at all."

Ah.

There's a keenness to his eyes that he blinks away in the space of a breath, something sharp and edged that he tosses aside with a studied air of carelessness nevertheless solid and abrupt as a shield lifting between them. "Then you won't mind."

He's happy to see Tyrion alive, and (visibly, at the least) unharmed.

He is quite sure that sentiment is neither welcomed, nor mutual, but he stops when he reaches his brother nonetheless, right arm moving to his hip out of long habit, making him grimace when the lump of metal at the end misses a hilt no longer there to meet. His instincts are still all wrong.

He's not sure they'll ever be right again, but then, perhaps they never were. It isn't for him to ponder: Tyrion was always the thinker, Jaime the sword.

Neither is he prone to second-guessing past mistakes, though it niggles at him, lodging like grit in the empty space where his sword should be, in the sore joint between his stump and the golden lump pretending to be his hand. "Would you like me to apologize?"

Tyrion can feel him coming up behind him - strange how the Lannisters always seemed to know when one or the other was about. Perhaps it was the feeling of a threat, just resting right there between their shoulder-blades. You could always sense when another predator was close.

He looks up at Jaime, no end of malice in his mis-matched eyes, even as his mouth twisted into a bitter, sardonic smile to match his. "All the whore are yours, brother, if you have tired of our sister's affections."

He eyed the stump, eyed the lack of the sword, and wondered if there was a glass bottle about so he could cut Jaime's balls out as easily as he had gutted Tyrion's heart. Yet he knew he would need the element of surprise there - Jaime was crippled but Jaime was still Jaime.

A mirthless laugh escaped his lips, "Would you even mean it? Or would it be as gold-plated as the rest of you?"

His mouth firms, but shows no other outward sign of a hit. Instead, he bypasses the first remark entirely, striding easily to the second as calmly as he lifts his head to study the passers-by around them: their strange garb, their lack of weapons, no known sigil or color to lend him a clue to their whereabouts. "You're the one always looking for some other meaning in plain words, not me."

Still facing at an angle, he cuts his gaze to his brother. "What difference could it make? If regrets and forgiveness could undo mistakes of the past, well...we'd all be in a very different world, now, wouldn't we?"

But they are.

And perhaps he is.

But it changes nothing. Tyrion would kill him, if given the chance and the opportunity, he has no doubt.

It's a shame, but not a surprise.

Edited 2016-06-23 17:33 (UTC)

Tyrion's mis-matched eyes narrow on his brother, as Jaime looks out at the people. He was always happy to have a moment to gather his thoughts, find the chinks in the armor of his enemies. "There is more meaning in words than you will ever find in a blade. And usually, plain words are used to hide a multitude of sins."

He looks back up at him, his jaw tight, and ah yes, there it was. The venom, the bitterness. "It would show you actually regretted the crime of ripping apart a happy marriage and a young girl who did nothing more than be poor and love me. That you let me believe for more than thirteen years that she was a whore. You allowed our father to destroy me."

He is as tightly wound as a lion ready to attack. "I trusted you, Jaime. You were my older brother, the one I always bet on ... " He shook his head, "An apology would be a way to start."

Test Drive

Re: Tyrion Lannister | ASOIAF | Option 3

Re: Tyrion Lannister | ASOIAF | Option 3

Re: Tyrion Lannister | ASOIAF | Option 3

Re: Tyrion Lannister | ASOIAF | Option 3

Re: Tyrion Lannister | ASOIAF | Option 3

Tyrion Lannister | ASOIAF | Option 3