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
A.
He sits by the riverbank, intending to go for a dip later on. The sun's high in the sky; he's found time to himself for once, putting aside the chaos that's been circling home. Not that it's been too tumultuous, lately. Yennefer's returned. They've reached...an understanding.
For now.
Of course, peace and quiet never does last, does it? He's only just leaned back to rest when a body splashes into the water, spraying the shore. He blinks. The fuck --
He gets up, wading into the water to extend a hand, helping to haul the man inside out. ]
Wrong turn?
no subject
That's a good way of putting it.
[He definitely seems more exasperated than alarmed as he reaches solid if slippery land, although there's clear confusion in his eyes when he pushes his watery bangs out of his face and realizes he's surrounded by trees rather than buildings. He grumbles to himself:]
Outside the city? Figures.
[He's clearly not dressed for exploring the Wilde, not even his usual wing-covering cloak present. And here he thought he was being careful—but at least it's just him alone, and he hasn't dragged someone else into this mess.]
no subject
He shakes it off quickly. Geralt gestures towards south. In the far distance, the wall can be seen stretching into the sky. ]
City's that way. [ Though he knows the Fae aren't suited to be wandering in the Wilde. Even with some of the Shades pruned back, there's still plenty out there. Geralt's learned to avoid them where he can. ] Can you get yourself back?
no subject
Normally I'd say yes, but—
[He manages an ineffective flutter of his wings, which does nothing but spray the grass with more water. They're completely soaked, like the rest of him. He can handle flying in short bursts in the rain, but attempting it after a full dive in the river just seems like a bad idea. He folds them back once more to keep them out of the way.]
I don't trust these right now. Or anything Fae in general...
no subject
Geralt sidesteps the spray of water and goes to where he's tethered his horse to a nearby tree. He digs a blanket out of Roach's saddle before returning, draping it unceremoniously over the Fae's shoulders. ]
Dry off, then. If you want a ride before sundown, stay here. Otherwise, the walk back's about two hours.
[ He eyes the Fae up and down for a second. Mm. Maybe three hours for him. ]
no subject
Although surprised by the generous offer set on his shoulders, Ferran doesn't waste much time getting to it, starting with his hair.]
Thanks—but just so you know, you'll be seeing glitter on your things for weeks.
[He does pause after that to stare at the aforementioned horse for a moment as he unbuttons the back of his collar, intending to wring out his shirt at least mostly. He's capable of the trek, but he's never ridden a horse before... maybe it'll be fun? And safer, most likely, to go with a companion.]
... I'll stay, if you don't mind.
no subject
He sits back down on the shore, a wave of his hand that suggests the fae can stay. He'd offered for a reason. ]
Just don't go teleporting anything else.
[ Look, last time there were fae teleports out here, a handful of folks went missing. He'd rather not trek around to find them again. ]
no subject
Don't worry, I'm definitely done for the day. [He huffs as he dries off his upper half to some extent, although it seems pointless do much regarding his wings except hope the wind and sun are enough. Not to mention it would make even more of a mess...]
I hope I didn't interrupt anything.
no subject
You did. [ His tone is vaguely amused, though. There's an unhurried pace to his time here now that he's largely...what. Settled? Yeah. It's odd to think about, so he tries not to for the most part, but he has. What else to call it, when he returns to the same roof every night with the same three people under it? ]
What's your name? On the off chance you get lost again.
no subject
He almost doesn't answer the question, not sure how his name would help with locating him, but his human upbringing wins out over the Fae avoidance. Take that, Talam.]
It's Ferran. What's yours?
no subject
Geralt. [ He suspects Ferran might know that name, too. ] You're Yennefer's friend.
[ Well. Acquaintance. But she's clearly taken a liking to the young man, which is about as close to friends as either of them possess. Yen does not perform favours for just anyone, and she performs even fewer favours that involve asking him for assistance. ]
fun fact i almost banned you bc of hover menus
He recognizes Yennefer's name before the memory of Geralt's comes to him and almost immediately brightens up at the sound of it. Even if he hadn't been told about Geralt, he'd have considered a friend of hers to be a friend of his.
... maybe that's a naive way of thinking, but it's still nice to think.]
Oh—and you're her bonded. [He smiles, all the annoyance from his failed portal gone in a blink.] It's nice to meet you, even if I'd prefer to be a little more dry for it.