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
no subject
[He assumes a thoughtful frown when she explains her situation, rather than the look of understanding that crosses his true face. The people of Dorchacht are well aware of the Mirrorbound, though their experience with them is much more limited. He has to play the part, and pauses a moment as if to consider his words.]
It must be quite the adjustment for you... [to say the least.] How have you been faring?
no subject
[He seems the proper amount of concerned for her current lot, which Hilda appreciates.]
It has been an adjustment. Really, I'm still adjusting. The Coven's helping where they can, but it's not like they can afford to take care of everything for us. I'm probably going to have to find a job soon so that I can start buying things...
[She may or may not be angling for a free lunch. Might as well--worst that can happen is he doesn't do it. It's not like she'll actually starve.]
no subject
[Ferran just barely manages to keep his own bitterness from the tone of the statement. Even if he recognizes the Coven does a lot for the Mirrorbound, they do a lot for the Coven, too, including their dirty work. The least they could do is provide some kind of stipend... The concern deepens in the man's gaze as he continues.]
Are you having any trouble with the necessities, in the meantime?
[Even if he weren't acting, she would have gotten him hook, line and sinker.]
no subject
Hilda gives him a small, if slightly downcast, smile. All the better to look like she's putting on a brave face in the wake of her predicament.]
I don't think any of us Mirrorbound have asked for this. We all just showed up.
Food is the biggest challenge right now. Everything else, we can come by for free if we really need to...
no subject
and pity, maybe, the man pulls out his wallet—a decidedly nice-looking piece of leather—and silently counts out a number of coins and bills.]Perhaps this will suffice for a few days.
[He offers her the money, which should indeed last several days of three square meals, as long as she doesn't go looking for a feast.]
no subject
Are you sure? I don't want to impose and cause any hardship for you...
But thank you. This is really, really nice of you, Mr. Rion.
no subject
Please, think nothing of it.
[This is what he's put all that effort into finding work and resources for, really. It's hard to feel good about being charitable when you don't actually have anything to offer.]
I hope things will get easier for you, my dear.
no subject
[Most likely by buying or making him something. There's a delicate balance to all of this, as far as Hilda's concerned, and she hates feeling like she owes someone for too long.]
Don't let me keep you. You said you have a lot to get to still.
no subject
If you insist. [He's similarly glad to take the out, really feeling the edges of a headache creep in the longer he maintains the glamor. He returns his wallet to his pocket, this time checking to make sure all his belongings are in place, and turns to leave her with:] Take care, Miss Hilda.