Ferran Gallagher (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
noblegarnet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2021-06-03 12:26 am
noblegarnet) wrote in middaeg2021-06-03 12:26 am
Entry tags:
[open] 🔶 it's a sad, sad situation
Who: Ferran & YOU
When: Iuneril
Where: Aefenglom (the river somewhere, the haven, aristocratic district)
What: Teleportation mishaps, accidental traps, and disguised run-ins (with bonus bad decisions) + any closed threads. Possibly more! Only time will tell.
Warnings: n/a
A. 2nd
[Although Ferran had felt an inclination towards building shapes for some time, it wasn't too out of the ordinary... being a hopeful architect and all. What was odd, initially, was the inclination towards one specific shape, which admittedly took some time to realize the reasoning behind, but the request from the company of native fairies the other month only solidified the idea, and although teleportation certainly sounds amazing, there are so many things that could go wrong:
What if he doesn't go to the right place? How does it transport him? Can something else happen to someone aside from being misplaced? What if his particles don't get put back together correctly??? And so, he decided he needed to fully comprehend the technique before giving it any serious attempts.
It's taken some time, but now he feels confident enough to transport an actual person, rather than the simple, replacable objects he'd been using for his tests—himself, that is. He's had a few mishaps, losing a few pencils and blocks in the process, but he's ready to make the jump. He thinks.
The first couple of tries go well enough, being only a short distance from each other. But the third?
He ends up in the river.
Of course, it's a much better outcome than landing himself in the Wilde, especially given that he's always been a decent swimmer, moth wings or no. It is, however, an unpleasant surprise, and he ends up taking in a bit of water, possibly making his emergence on the surface a little alarming with the way he coughs to clear his lungs.]
Jesus— [hack] Christ, [he gasps, paddling just enough to stay on the surface.
If he doesn't catch someone's attention immediately, he'll definitely end up resorting to calling out to whoever's nearby—not necessarily because he needs rescue, but in the hopes of making his exit from the water much less messy.]
Hey!
B. 3rd-7th
[It's fine this time, though. He's got it sorted out, a circle set up just inside his yard's shrubs and the other halfway across town. He's made a successful trip from here and back. It's working, and as long as he concentrates and keeps them up, he's confident they'll continue for however long he holds them together. He's making progress!
Brushing his hands (and a bit of accidental fae dust) over the construct, he looks up and happens to spot a passerby, who he greets with a smile.]
Hello there.
[He's in a good mood, apparently.]
Where are you headed? I might be able to get you there faster.
[What he doesn't realize is that he might end up getting them absolutely nowhere and stuck for some time. Fae magic isn't known for its reliability, and it's nearly as fickle as its users without enough experience.]
C. 4th-9th
[A tall, dark-haired man makes his first appearances in the aristocratic district this month, claiming to be from Dorchacht and gathering what information he can about the local politicians (aka nobility) and their tendencies. He's polite and subdued, frequently with a mild smile on his face, winning over at least a few locals with his looks, deep voice and pleasant demeanor.
When the man stops speaking with someone, however, the smile fades fairly quickly, and he seems to be in a hurry to retreat when he turns and knocks into someone with much less force than his size would imply.]
Ah, excuse me.
[In reailty, the man is in fact a young Fae who's completely concealed himself under the glamor of his guardian and the source of most of his troubles. Is this healthy? Probably not. Does he care? ... well, yes, but that doesn't mean he's not going to do it. Rion's persona is perfect for gathering information: he's charismatic in a number of ways, and Ferran knows his face, mannerisms and voice incredibly well, making him easy to imitate and remain constant. Plus, if he ends up saying or doing the wrong thing, it's less likely to paint a target on his own fluffy back, and he won't feel bad for ruining any reputations.
(Wouldn't that be fun, if the man showed up only to have everyone already hate him? It would almost make such a development bearable.)
In his hurry, he doesn't notice that he drops a golden quill, which looks valuable even outside of its enchantment and sentimental value. Hopefully whoever he's run into will be kind enough to try to return it to him...]
Wildcard.
[OOC: Feel free to play with these prompts as you please; jump in halfway, interrupt him, whatever! You can see Ferran's info and current goings-on over here and hit me up over pm or at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
lumieresdedragon to plot something else out! Or just toss me a starter out of the blue! I love surprises!]
When: Iuneril
Where: Aefenglom (the river somewhere, the haven, aristocratic district)
What: Teleportation mishaps, accidental traps, and disguised run-ins (with bonus bad decisions) + any closed threads. Possibly more! Only time will tell.
Warnings: n/a
A. 2nd
[Although Ferran had felt an inclination towards building shapes for some time, it wasn't too out of the ordinary... being a hopeful architect and all. What was odd, initially, was the inclination towards one specific shape, which admittedly took some time to realize the reasoning behind, but the request from the company of native fairies the other month only solidified the idea, and although teleportation certainly sounds amazing, there are so many things that could go wrong:
What if he doesn't go to the right place? How does it transport him? Can something else happen to someone aside from being misplaced? What if his particles don't get put back together correctly??? And so, he decided he needed to fully comprehend the technique before giving it any serious attempts.
It's taken some time, but now he feels confident enough to transport an actual person, rather than the simple, replacable objects he'd been using for his tests—himself, that is. He's had a few mishaps, losing a few pencils and blocks in the process, but he's ready to make the jump. He thinks.
The first couple of tries go well enough, being only a short distance from each other. But the third?
He ends up in the river.
Of course, it's a much better outcome than landing himself in the Wilde, especially given that he's always been a decent swimmer, moth wings or no. It is, however, an unpleasant surprise, and he ends up taking in a bit of water, possibly making his emergence on the surface a little alarming with the way he coughs to clear his lungs.]
Jesus— [hack] Christ, [he gasps, paddling just enough to stay on the surface.
If he doesn't catch someone's attention immediately, he'll definitely end up resorting to calling out to whoever's nearby—not necessarily because he needs rescue, but in the hopes of making his exit from the water much less messy.]
Hey!
B. 3rd-7th
[It's fine this time, though. He's got it sorted out, a circle set up just inside his yard's shrubs and the other halfway across town. He's made a successful trip from here and back. It's working, and as long as he concentrates and keeps them up, he's confident they'll continue for however long he holds them together. He's making progress!
Brushing his hands (and a bit of accidental fae dust) over the construct, he looks up and happens to spot a passerby, who he greets with a smile.]
Hello there.
[He's in a good mood, apparently.]
Where are you headed? I might be able to get you there faster.
[What he doesn't realize is that he might end up getting them absolutely nowhere and stuck for some time. Fae magic isn't known for its reliability, and it's nearly as fickle as its users without enough experience.]
C. 4th-9th
[A tall, dark-haired man makes his first appearances in the aristocratic district this month, claiming to be from Dorchacht and gathering what information he can about the local politicians (aka nobility) and their tendencies. He's polite and subdued, frequently with a mild smile on his face, winning over at least a few locals with his looks, deep voice and pleasant demeanor.
When the man stops speaking with someone, however, the smile fades fairly quickly, and he seems to be in a hurry to retreat when he turns and knocks into someone with much less force than his size would imply.]
Ah, excuse me.
[In reailty, the man is in fact a young Fae who's completely concealed himself under the glamor of his guardian and the source of most of his troubles. Is this healthy? Probably not. Does he care? ... well, yes, but that doesn't mean he's not going to do it. Rion's persona is perfect for gathering information: he's charismatic in a number of ways, and Ferran knows his face, mannerisms and voice incredibly well, making him easy to imitate and remain constant. Plus, if he ends up saying or doing the wrong thing, it's less likely to paint a target on his own fluffy back, and he won't feel bad for ruining any reputations.
(Wouldn't that be fun, if the man showed up only to have everyone already hate him? It would almost make such a development bearable.)
In his hurry, he doesn't notice that he drops a golden quill, which looks valuable even outside of its enchantment and sentimental value. Hopefully whoever he's run into will be kind enough to try to return it to him...]
Wildcard.
[OOC: Feel free to play with these prompts as you please; jump in halfway, interrupt him, whatever! You can see Ferran's info and current goings-on over here and hit me up over pm or at
B
Oh, that's an interesting thing you're working on there— [ And to answer the question given, he follows with a half-hearted reply ] I'm just trying to find a place where I could find some good time.
no subject
Well, I don't know what kind of good time you're looking for, but I can take you out into town.
no subject
The entertainment district is quite far from here— think you can reach over there?
no subject
Give me five minutes.
[With a flash, he's gone. It's a bit of a rush to pick the pieces of the other end up and fly them over to the requested location, but he's glad to do it. It's good practice for the future, whether he might need to set one up in an emergency or just to get a better handle on his magic.
Determined to be on time, he returns within the five minutes through that same ring, a just a little out of breath. He steps just outside the ring again, putting his hands on his hips.]
Looks like that'll do. Ready to go?