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Entry tags:
May 2022 Test Drive Meme
MAY 2022 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. You can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Each TDM will provide a scenario for how characters arrive in-game that particular month.
Playing 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.
Current players are allowed to have in-game characters react to TDMs via the Network or make a log with the prompts. Current players are always encouraged to tag new people on the TDM!
TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.
Content Warnings: Possible insanity via cuts by thorns. Temporary nullification of abilities.
DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS
OUT OF THE WOODS
DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS
The world comes into focus in one sharp, overwhelming rush. You are laying on the ground surrounded by staggering walls of flowers of all types and colors. Their sweet scent fills the air and the sky above is clear, blue, beautiful, and endless. It would be easy to be lulled into a quiet nap in such a peaceful place. You can even hear a soft, disembodied voice singing songs from some unknown place all around you. After some time, this siren song creates an intense yearning that will eventually bring you to your feet and pull you forward. You are filled with the urge to find someone important. You may know who or you might just have some aimless, faceless person at the forefront of your mind.
All you know is that when you finally find them, you'll know. Is it love? Is it a friend you have always needed? The perfect enemy? Only time will tell, but for now, you must find them. The flower maze is dense and for now, it doesn't seem like flying out and above them is an option. If you try, you just wind up vaulted back into the maze. Nope! This trial is about using other means of exploration. Maybe you can destroy the flowers, but you will find that this flower field is apparently endless. If you get cut by thorns along the way, you will become increasingly hectic about finding this mystery person. Some have been thrown into insane desperation just looking for their People among the flowers.
But once you finally find them, you're both filled with relief and the flowers around you blossom wider. You can then treat the flower maze like a solvable puzzle and get your way out of it. However, some people spend a bit more time in the maze since once you do find your person or people, you will be stricken with the urge to talk to them, to "open up" about your yearning to find them...even if you've never met them before!
OUT OF THE WOODS
Just outside of the flower maze is a little festival set up just on the edge of Willow and partway into Epiphany! Little stalls of food and drinks have been set up - and we mean little! The good folk who set up these stalls are magical cats standing upright and wearing clothes like little people! All the stalls are cat-sized and so are the dishes and food - which means most of the people walking through will likely be quite a bit bigger! That's okay, the cat folk seem happy to serve you bigger or multiple helpings of their yummy soups and bread. None of them seem able to really communicate with the new arrivals, but that's okay, their cute meows are fun to listen to anyway.
The music is a bit more pronounced here and a handful of cat couples are dancing around. Don't be surprised if they encourage you to join in the dancing! Maybe you didn't actually find someone in the flower maze - if not, the cat folk will encourage you to dance with another new arrival to get to know them! Because apparently dancing with someone you don't know is a good formal introduction? Ah well. Sometimes it's just the idea that counts.
There will also be some supplies to help patch people up who have gotten a lot of cuts from the flower maze. Some of the bouts of insanity are probably still going a bit hectic, so you might want to lay down in the recovery area until you feel a bit more stable. Talking to people apparently helps with the stability, so maybe strike up a conversation with a fellow newbie?
Content Warnings: Optional selective amensia and/or altered sense of self, possible monster/creature violence, temporary enchantments, forced relocations.
LONG STORY SHORT
DAYLIGHT
LONG STORY SHORT
You're in a very unusual, specific outfit and in a place you might have seen once or twice in a storybook or in the imagination of your childhood. For some, you might pick up on what's happening immediately. For others, you might be so immersed in the role that you don't realize it - but you're featuring in a classic fairy tale. Maybe it's Sleeping Beauty or Little Red Riding Hood or Tale of the White Snake or The Mirror of Matsuyama. Either way, you're the main character or the main antagonist and it looks like you're going to have to play out the story with whoever you're stuck with!
The other person in the trial can either match up to the other side of the story or just arrive as themselves and have to play along. Trying to just abandon the trial is quite literally impossible! You're stuck in the weird woods or high tower and trying to "leave" just results in you going in repeated cycles until you wind up where you started. You have a role to fill and you might as well get used to playing roles in Folkmore! It's time to understand how these trials work. What lesson are you supposed to take away?
If you're grumbling about it or are left confused, don't worry! Thirteen will appear to those struggling and explain the situation: "You need to play out the story! C'mon. Everyone knows this story...Right? Well, whatever, it's obvious! If you play your part, I promise I'll give you something you want." Can you really trust a fox though? Especially the fox who brought you here? She laughs before you can really pester her for more information and vanishes in a burst of red dust. Foxes really are mischievous, aren't they...At least most fairy tales are incredibly short, basic, and straightforward so most people should be able to figure it out!
In theory.
DAYLIGHT
At least the Fox wasn't lying. When you complete the task of the story, the fairy tale world will melt into one of the settings in Folkmore and you will be brought back into the current reality. You will be left in the weird clothes, but fear not! A mystery trunk has appeared in front of you and whoever you completed the trial with. Inside the trunk, you will find some of your canon clothes and a few canon items. Nearby, there will be some weapons sticking out of the ground: basic swords, guns, shields, etc. These items might not be enchanted, but at least you have something to work with!
Better yet, you don't necessarily have to complete the Long Story Short prompt to find these trunks either! They seem to be dotted around Folkmore and you might find them just by virtue of exploration! The trunks seem to mysteriously know who is opening them so you won't find someone else's stuff by accident, but you might have to fight over who gets the sword in the stone...
A word of caution to those who grab the weapons...You will immediately be tested on how good you are with them. As soon as you have pulled them out of the ground, the ground will begin trembling and a serpent-like creature will form out of the ground. If you're in Wintermute, you have a sizeable icy creature to deal with. If you're in Cruel Summer, meet the fire-breathing snakey nightmare that's going to try and roast you alive. Don't think Epiphany or Willow will have gentler creatures! They might be covered in moss or flowers but they will hit just as hard. You have to defeat the angry creature - or try running for your life. They are relatively easy to beat and people without powers can manage if they are highly skilled or...really lucky...Or if someone far more capable finds them! Good luck. As a pro-tip, maybe don't pull weird swords out of the ground in the future.
no subject
[Not, this time, a man pretending to be a man with coals for eyes and a furnace for a mouth, split between four dreaming minds. But the fox hadn't struck him stupid with fear like the Dark One had in those encounters--far from it. But isn't that more reason to fear--to distrust--having felt compelled to follow after something he doesn't understand into a world he sure as shit doesn't understand?
He hums an off-tune note that doesn't match the festival music, drowning out whatever feelings that raises.]
Well, that was one of the questions rounding out the top of my list. If everyone here was having chats with fox things. [Not more dreams, but something else. Something far more beyond imagining.] And if there are other worlds out there and it can cross them with guests along for the ride, then I have to think the only reason you could hear about hunting machines the size of buildings and not Aes Sedai is because we came from different--
[He breaks off when she skips like an over-excited filly. Slightly out of sync, like two mismatched objects. Fitting. Laughing dismissively at the apology, he slows them to a pause, finishing his thought with some head-spinning finality for a burgeoning theory:]
... worlds.
[It's what does fit, isn't it?]
At least dancing is the same. Look at me, not where you're going to put your feet. The trick is feeling each other out.
[But her last half-distracted comment echoes on. Wrong. Coming here hadn't felt wrong, but he has to wonder if that's the part to be extra cautious of, the sweet perfume hiding the thorns.]
no subject
Honestly, I'm still hoping this whole thing was just a fever dream and I'll wake up at any moment.
[ Aloy's sigh has a distinctly defeated quality to it.
Different worlds... it's a concept so out of left field that even Aloy looks a little skeptical the next time she glances up and holds his gaze. She knows what planets are of course - yet another outlier in tribal society - but travelling to another world always seemed like a feat that could only be paired with the grandest of technological marvels.
A sketchy talking fox is... well. Not that, to put it mildly.
Additionally, it stands to reason that if they were brought here on a whim, chances are they're also stranded here until or unless another whim sends them back.
What a disconcerting thought. For the first time since Matrim's timely rescue, Aloy much prefers to focus on stumbling through her first dance recital than dwell on an unsolvable problem.
So instead of worrying she does as he asks and keeps her chin elevated, everything from the neck up comically stiff as a board while Aloy takes a couple more tentative steps, as wobbly and unsure of her footing as a newborn fawn. Kind of like a puppy putting on booties for the first time and promptly deciding their paws have vanished from existence. ]
Easier said than done.
[ Grumble grumble. He might not be so chipper about his 'feeling out' advice if he gets a foot in the shin or something. What happened to just flailing and stomping around by yourself like most tribal dances?
Smh kids these days. :T ]
no subject
[Why, with this overflowing cup of optimism, there should be excess left over to pour into this footwork, shouldn't there?
Light help his plan for them to blend in.]
Does relax mean act like you're in five inch wooden clogs where you're from? I said it, but I'm not so sure that's what you're trying to do.
[Under different circumstances, this would be so much funnier that maybe it's for the best they're labouring through his still-healing dance with the dagger and the collapse of the natural order. He wouldn't care to laugh so hard he gets a purposeful kick to the shin.]
I'm breaking you into dancing. We're discussing going mad together. That should put us on friendly ground. You can relax around a friendly face.
Throwing down the gauntlet come at her bro
You're bossy for a supposedly friendly face. Relax, don't relax, look up, don't look up... anything else, or is that the whole list?
[ Aloy drawls, one eyebrow raising on the same side as a sly little grin just barely elevating the corner of her mouth. Dancing might make her uncomfortable - how does one relax with someone else constantly in one's space??? - but banter... ahhh. Banter is soothing, familiar terrain she knows how to navigate with both eyes closed.
And it has the handy side effect of distracting her from dancing at all, which in turn has the tension wrapped tight around her neck loosening, lifting the suffocating focus she'd brought to bear on the world's most serious dance. Perhaps they're moving too slowly, leaving too much space and time for Aloy's perpetually active mind to calculate and analyze, getting in the way of a fun activity.
Huh. Come to think of it, keeping her mind occupied has always been the best option. Maybe they've been approaching this all wrong? ]
Just... dance like you normally would if I wasn't here. [ Now who's being bossy, Aloy??? ] I'll adapt. Don't slow down, and don't stop.
[ And just like that - her demeanour shifts from beleaguered offworlder to attentive student. What's the harm in goading him with a harmless challenge, huh? Absolutely nothing could go wrong. :o) ]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DT4kQlM5xuE #gitupchallenge
Oh, there's more. [Just call him mister taskmaster. Might as well start off strong in a strange land and strike fear into the hearts of others just wanting to know what a cat is.] I was trying to ease you into it.
[And he, too, notices its—such ghastly defamation, and the humoring of it—positive effects when she actually does relax, easing into taunting him and out of overthinking her movements in pace with his. She flows, grace waiting to take over beneath heavy-handedness.]
Well, generally I try to avoid dancing alone with my arms full of an invisible person...
[But an earnest request like that. She looks so frank about it—more than he'd banked on, with his half-assed ideas for a diversion in pulling her from her cat fellow, his mind splintering off in a dozen other directions. Really, he's the one being the subpar partner in this duo. It's the girl's first spin around a dancing circle; that should warrant his full attention, even here, feeling like shit left out in the sun. Some etiquette is just universal that way. How can he refuse?]
Are you sure?
[Mat's game. But not before injecting more searching ominousness into the question than it rightfully deserves, face straight. Is the girl who faces hostile machines ready to face a proper Two Rivers caper?]
If one of the ladies falls over during the challenge does that mean it's a #hoedown? 🤔
[ For all that Aloy makes an admirable attempt at 'huffy indignation' under her breath to maintain her end of the straight man dynamic, she settles for shaking her head despairingly with a great, gusty exhale that sets wayward strands of wild ginger hair fluttering by her jaw. The nerve of this man, making a Very Serious Undertaking into another joke! What cheek.
It's when he very not jokingly suggests that she doesn't know exactly what she's asking for that a ghost of genuine emotion flits across her features. Fleeting and as much disbelief as anything else, but the scrunched nose screams offended louder than any shrieking Longleg could ever hope to match.
You'd think being underestimated so often would have her desensitized by now. ]
What, you don't think I can handle whatever you throw at me?
[ Her chin tilts up just a touch. Defiant, mulish, and as definitive an answer as he'll hope to get: yes, she's very sure she wants to test how light he is on his feet. It'll be a learning experience! Like sparring with one of the Pit Masters west of the Sundom, but without the weapons.
How hard could it be? ]
Ask me again once you're the one sitting on your ass. Now are we going to dance, or do you plan to stand here all night?
#queenshit, respectfully
And maybe, on the cusp of an unrestful, scratchy-eyed doze that skims the barest surface of sleep some hours into it, he'll similarly reflect on the odd bittersweetness that is someone whose roots are so strange reminding him of the roots Moiraine and Lan had helpfully yanked up for him. Just maybe.
But that's then, and this is... a girl doing her and his ancestors both proud ready to put him in his place.]
Manage to trust your feet and my lead and we'll see.
[Unfalteringly blithe, all the same. Nerve and cheek and jaunty smirks to infuriate the masses, his middle name. He'll give himself the pass—this is still his wheelhouse wherever he's landed among the stars, a village green with music all around. She can carry the drollery torch when Thunderjaws come knocking.
An accepting nod. As you like it, Aiel-who's-not-an-Aiel. The contract is sealed.]
Since you asked. Let's.
[—cut a post-apocalyptic rug in cat town.
This time when he sweeps into a tempo on the high note of a fiddle, it's in line with her specifications: looser and faster, as he might with any of the familiar village girls he had danced with over the years who liked to laugh and spin and twirl, no passive demonstration but a gliding step forward that slides into a sidestep, their vaguely straight direction becoming a smooth spinning rotation around another couple.]
Based
one finger of the monkey paw curls...Instead of staring at her feet and worrying where to step, she freely relinquishes ground as Matrim advances, leaning heavily on the precise grace that's saved her skin countless times before to make up for her lack of familiarity with the music. What may have been a leap backwards to duck the bladed edge of Clawstrider tail transmutes into a nimble backstep, the pivot threading them between dancers lifted straight from the brief memory of pain blazing a line across her bicep where a barbed Tenakth arrow etched a pale scar into her skin.
Funny how the knowledge of how to adapt was there all along.
As adept as Aloy is at correcting her posture and foot placement mistakes, alas... she can't quite match the confident swagger he's throwing out like it's going out of style or the practised ease of how to hold oneself between steps. After all, it's as much acting a part as dancing, and she so hates to be pushed into the limelight.
The idea may rest easier once she's shrugged off the completely alien feeling of dancing with a partner like this, but for now she's still falling back into the role of a hunter stalking a rabbit through the long grass - sleekly predatory, laser focused, and about as brusquely utilitarian as you can get. Sorry, not sorry.
Perhaps she's pursuing him around the dancing circle as much as he's leading her through the hectic steps. Push and pull, like the lunar tide?
Anyway. Aloy's mood is vastly improved in the meantime! Check out that cheshire cat smile curving her lips and the telltale lifting of one eyebrow, oh so smugly locking gazes with her Two Rivers counterpart as if the satisfaction isn't tangibly radiating off of her as is.
"Are you sure", he says. Pfft. ]
no subject
Light, she's fast, though, despite minor adjustments to help familiarize her with the pattern. Apparently all he'd needed to do for her to start to intuit the movement was goad her into making him work for his confidence. The way she'd spoken had implied some kind of hunter, or fighter (—or something? Everything alluded to about mammoth machines still needs processing). He'd have believed it if the lithe, muscular young woman were in a burlap sack with the most demure disposition this side of catville. A bit intense, the way her eyes follow him, and the matched steps with it. Some might even say a wee aggressive.
He's not exactly a slouch in the most fleet-footed, pulse-pounding jigs, but had Mat been a rat put to the chase, he might have been more afraid of the hint of teeth showing through her exultant smile than the felines around them.
Well, all right, considering she's got the bloody bit in her mouth, next lesson—]
Now— [Calling the shot as his amusedly approving smile plainly raises the bet.] —you turn.
[He still has a hand as they step, and break apart, and come back together, and as he raises his arm around her he brings hers with it. Push, pull, and how about a subset of both—a spin?]
no subject
As accustomed as Aloy is to keeping her stance wide and low - useful in combat and hiding from machines both - there's an alarming moment of wobbling as her ankles knock painfully together, feet moving as requested but the rest of her reluctant to follow. Only after she rights herself does the Nora hunter give Mat another wordless look, a self-deprecating "well, I deserved that" wryness lodged in the quirk of her mouth and the faintest crinkle of her nose.
Rost would doubtless have several somethings to say about his adopted daughter's headstrong tendencies. In comparison, Mat's being perfectly kindly!
...that won't save him from kneejerk sass though. ]
Starting to think people break legs regularly doing this.
[ She mutters (mostly to herself), taking her cue from fellow dancers in her peripheral vision and the brief blur of noise and colour during the spin to use her hand on his shoulder to anchor herself for a brief skipping hop that looks more graceful that it feels, landing on the downbeat of whatever rustic drum that's been setting up the merrily pounding pace of the song.
Sets of three. As that connection clicks into place, some of the innate wildness of her movements moderate themselves, steadying now that the rules of the game are better understood. ]
no subject
She's giving it a game try, the poor thing.
All together, the young woman feeling her way through the newness of a spin is exceptionally charming in its own way. Whoever failed to take her dancing before now should be ashamed. He's not about to laugh outright at the risk of it being mistaken for mockery—it's certainly not with any meanness he's enjoying these efforts—but it's clear some jovial laughter lives in the place he bites his lower lip, holding it between his teeth to keep his smile from outgrowing its confines.]
You gave it a good go. [Hey, she made it 360 degrees and stuck the landing! Willfully going where no dance virgins have gone before, maybe, sure, but she could've walked away from him at any time and he's pleased she hasn't.] You did say you wanted to dance at my pace.
[And that was just a first time.
He's improvising a bit now, playing with the standard regularity of moves, but that doesn't seem to impede his rhythm.]
One more?
[Practice makes perfect. And it's cute, okay, he's going to milk it.]
no subject
Did you hear me complaining?
[ Aloy's about as out of her depth as one could be without finding themselves neck-deep in the ocean without notice, but 'sink or swim' has always been the way she's learned, bruises and all. Better to make many mistakes now when she has the excuse of inexperience rather than misstep later when it matters!
So she shakes her head while meeting Mat's stifled laughter with an amiable grin of her own, not taking particular offence at misfortune she invited upon herself.
Having him try to draw her bow might be in order afterwards. You know. Just to level the playing field a little bit before he goes and gets a big head about all this. :T ]
One more. [ A lift of her chin, confirmation and obstinate demand both. ] I've got it this time.
[ Does she though? Aloy sounds confident enough considering the upset not a moment ago, as if stating her intent as solid fact will somehow tilt the scales in her favour instead of backfire spectacularly in her face. Then again... the rate she's been adapting at, she might very well be telling the truth.
Give her your best shot, Mr. Two Rivers. She'll spin like a Beyblade and look like the daintiest mfer at the ball while she's at it. ]
this is so cute, wtf c':
Dancing experience. A silly, trifling thing to focus on amid everything, but it's doing its intended job as a distraction perhaps a little too well, allowing Mat to momentarily forget the rest of his questions.
Well. He'll sort the rest now or later, one way or another. No choice there.]
Must have misheard. [Mmhmm.] Then, an encore—
[His practiced hand sends her out in an easy spin the length of their joined arms and back toward him. If she were to lose her footing, he'd catch her; however, her quick study says she likely doesn't need it.
Co-signed. Dainty... mm, maybe not the right word for her, but she's a lithe mfer.]
∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
lithe mfer... mr cauthon pls have a little decorumLo and behold, the Nora machine hunter is true to her word; Mat's arm extends to his full wingspan and she allows the momentum to direct her in a graceful twirling movement that has them anchored hand in hand like the links in an unravelling chain. Another tug and she's reeled back in, coming to rest in their starting posture as if it's as easy as breathing, not so much as a braid out of place.
...this time around, Aloy wisely keeps her ego in check by settling for quiet satisfaction in another obstacle overcome. She's learned that lesson already!
The additional layer of keeping track of the downbeat in the back of her head tells her what comes next - the frenetic step-hop-turn-step she'd barely managed to pull off just a minute prior so much easier now that Aloy's precisely where she needs to be. Who knew paying attention to the drum made coordinating movement so much easier?
Tikiti-tom (step-two, hop-four), tikiti-tom (turn-two, step-four)--
She might, possibly, be enjoying herself at a party for the first time ever.
Just a little. ]
🐾😺🥳
Then again, she also said she was an outcast from her people, so maybe she hasn't been around enough young lads to recognize horndogs as a dangerous breed on a different kind of hunt. That's a big lapse in the bestiary, never leave home without your shin-kicking clogs.]
Bloody well put the rest to shame. You're doing it.
[Not so quiet with encouragement and laurels; the girl's hitting her stride, shedding discomfort little by little. Well done. He means it with a grin sans teasing, though the visible traces of laughter persevere.
Push and pull turns into a greater feeling of unity. Completing each other's steps with one another. He tries not to think about Winternight most days, but he has missed the feeling of dancing. He does laugh then, more breathless than he expects, partly with exhilaration, partly in reminder he's still regaining the strength the dagger sapped.]
Not so bad, is it?
no subject
Unfortunately this is Aloy we're talking about here.
Turning her face aside to hide the fierce burn across her cheeks won't make the sensation fade any quicker, but she still stuffs the uncomfortable feeling deep down where she won't have to think about it, consigning the whole thing to the abyss of "future Aloy problems".
Easier to just act as if nothing was said in the first place. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ ]
Not as bad as I expected, actually.
[ No, not even close. Once the culture shock is overcome and her naturally skittish nature firmly bolted down like ropecasters snaring a Glinthawk, even Aloy must admit there's a certain appeal to this kind of activity. Normally the sensation of silent kinship only happens in the sparring pit when she's trying to clock someone in the skull with the blunt end of a training spear!
What she finds even more surprising is just how much of a workout dancing is turning out to be. Though she isn't quite at the point of losing her breath entirely, there's the telltale sheen of moisture on her brow and faint wisps of steam rising off her hunting leathers in the moonlight giving away just how much exertion this particular dance requires. ]
Fair warning, if we need to dance any faster my leg feels like it's going to fall off.
i would just like you to know tho' i haven't started i dled HZD 😌
[What's that? A blush? A flush? Funny how it wears so vividly on the people he's met (except one notably deceased exception) with that reddish hair color. It's one of the few reminders of his best friend that twists his stomach with nostalgia instead of just to the point of sickness, and for that he refrains from pressing her on it, though the urge is there.
And truth be told, he's more relieved than not she admits to the exertion; she's not the only one feeling it or showing it with a bloom of color in her face, he's just putting in a mammoth effort not to let wobbly legs betray him. She said it first. His pride is off the hook if they were to take a break at the same time.
An apt moment for the current song to wind down into its last notes. At the dance's end, he releases her to crown it with a grin and a sweep into an elaborate bow, back bent and arm across his chest. He has enough fuel in the tank for that. Some situations demand courtesy, no matter the universe.]
Thank you for the dance. [More fun than anything he'd expected from anyone or anything on this strange day, actually.] It was my honour to be your first. Don't worry about the fast ones—I have no doubt you'll keep up just fine for the next one.
✨Y a s s s ✨
For now, the implication she'll be doing this again in the near future has Aloy already shaking her head. ]
"Next one"? [ She huffs, as much a rueful sigh as laughter. ] After all that, the next person to try will have to catch me first. If I'm lucky they'll be too out of breath to ask.
[ SPEAKING OF WHICH. Time to relocate.
There's an inviting patch of green just a little ways away that she beelines towards, unceremoniously collapsing into the long grass with the hopes of having the volcanic heat stoked under her skin leeched away into the cooler soil, retreating from the stifling press of bodies and the low chatter of those waiting for the next song to begin.
Suckers for punishment, clearly. ]
LIFE just needs to give me the TIME
Oh, give it up. You enjoyed it. [Said in a tone wheedling for the truth. He caught those there-and-gone-again smiles.] Admit it.
[And he will not even smugly take credit for being the driving force behind the idea. Pulling her away from the townsperson had been a small favor, joining the dance a ruse. But it had benefited him, too, even if somewhere along the way he'd forgotten his resolve to use it as opportunity for interrogation. It feels like forever and a day since he'd last had a bit of fun.
Trailing her at a languid pace—because, well, he really had got off track from his questions—he snorts incredulously to watch her swoon into her patch of grass.]
Now you're really putting it on. Did I tire you out?
[But let's be real, his is a corner of dramatics, not decorum, and any critique levelled from it is all hot air and little heft. It does... look comfortable...
It's his own private argument with his leg muscles that keep him upright, coming to stand by her side, scuffing the grass with booted heel.]
No rest for the wicked!
Don't know where you got that idea. I'm sore, overheating, and publicly humiliated myself, but - [ And this is a very hesitant "but", mind you! ] - yeah. I guess I did have fun.
[ After all it's the good kind of sore. The triumphant burn after a long and challenging hunt, or in this case the obvious conclusion of being pushed and pulled in every imaginable direction in ways she's never experienced before. It's not a feeling she gets very often nowadays.
Once Aloy's galloping pulse calms and her breath has once again settled, Aloy laces her fingers behind her head, comfortably stretched out on her grass bedding like a cat in a sunbeam without a care in the world; the cool grass on her skin and the sweetness of crushed vegetation on the air with each breath feels twice as luxurious as finely spun Carja silk after all that.
Well. Until he has to go and needle her pride, anyway. That gets a pointed look. ]
You'd be more convincing if you didn't sound as out of breath as I am.
ain't that the truth ヽ(ー_ー )ノ
[While he's speaking, he bends to put a hand on the ground and slowly lower himself down a ways from her, making it look like an idle gesture and not that he's taking his time to cover his labouring. Still better than his dead man's staggering to Tar Valon, though that already feels like months ago.
The ungraciously wide expanse of his grin comes more easily. Perched slightly above where her flame-red hair spills over the grass, it appears upside down, and the right side up iteration is no less teasing.]
How do you know breathlessness isn't because of you?
[Look. She can roll over on her belly and sock him in the leg, but she can't call him out with observations. That's not allowed on this already no good, very confounding day.]
no subject
Alas. That opinion is about to flip a full 180 very quickly. ]
Dream, remember? You've never had a nightmare where the whole tribe's turned out to laugh at you over something stupid?
[ A lazy gesture with one arm encompasses the world around them; grandly sweeping over the whispering grass, the flickering firelight, and the shadowy figures of the catfolk frolicking gaily in their absence as if to say "bro, just look at all of this shit".
Granted, this is a pretty tame nightmare all things considered. No machines, no blood-soaked Sun Ring, no scrambling for her life because she forgot to bring her bow and spear to class that day, etc etc. All very reasonable conclusions to make.
Unfortunately for Aloy, all the plausible explanations fuelling her train of thought come to a screeching halt at the teasing/flirting(?????) thrown back in her face. Yes, she's aware he's purposefully distracting her, but at the same time this is the previously mentioned Future Aloy Problem™ rearing its ugly head a lot sooner than she assumed it would. Can't say she didn't ask for it.
So, naturally, the resulting mental bluescreen has her pausing for a brief (but damning) moment that says all that needs to be said. ]
You -- I mean -- [ She awkwardly clears her throat, 110% aware of the pained expression embodied in furrowed brow and pursed lips. ] Then maybe you shouldn't have been dancing in the first place. How is that my fault?
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Or perhaps reflecting that he'd vastly prefer it if his nightmares were only just that, surreal and full of nude dancing, is to blame. He looks, he even holds onto his carefree smile, but his newfound weird shit radar is pinging loudly. Hate to break it to the both of them and their plausible deniability, but this still feels pretty bloody real and un-dreamlike. As solid as her hand had been clasped in his. As solid as the grass now. (Although arguably she, herself, has proven to be one of the stranger features here and could certainly make one question the reality of foreign lands, lands surely not inked down on Bran al'Vere's prized map.)
Well, anyway, those serious waters with no life raft aren't going anywhere. Back to unnecessary and flustering segues.]
That aside— [He's fine, let's not talk about it.] You dream about dancing with men like me a lot?
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Rather than take the bait this time she counters with a question of her own: ]
Do you dream of dancing with strange women a lot?
[ That topic's a two-way street, smartypants. >:T Nice try.
More importantly, one of Aloy's eyebrows quirks in that telltale sign one of her signature blunt observations is imminent. ]
It's starting to sound a lot like you're just trying to distract yourself from something.
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As for those... Well...
A pause precedes his response. Perhaps not the "gotcha" moment Aloy was hoping for as he raises his eyes to the sky in what he means for noncommittal politeness. However, the considering scrunch of his lips says it all: yes, that is also exactly the sort of subject matter he dreams about in pleasanter times, actually. Among other things. Sometimes different activities. Usually the women, though.
Hey, they're his dreams. He will not be accepting criticism or kink shaming at this time—this is a safe, sharing space.
Except for, you know, what she puts her finger on next. He looks back at her, still wearing a topical buffer in the form of a smile.]
Of course I am. You're not? Talking foxes, out of body experiences, and now cats are muscling in on innkeeping before they train us to do the mousing... It's going to be one impressive breakdown when it hits.
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every time i see this is MAY my sense of time melts
Time flies when you're having fun!
this! is! the truest!!
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🥂 happy belated anniversary, l m a o...