dagung | TDM: MARCH

Entry tags:

* tdm

TDM: MARCH

Test Drive: March

All threads can be considered game canon,

the prompts and test drive itself will be

• Reserves Open Today! If you're interested in securing a character, put one in! This time around, reserves will expire after the first 48 hours of applications being opened. Those first 48 hours will be open to those who have reserves only, so we recommend placing one. It will not guarantee you a spot, but it will guarantee you can post your app immediately when they open.
• Applications Open The 24th! There will be a cap of 30 applications accepted this round, and apps will close whenever we've reached that cap. If there are slots left after the reserves-only period, apps will open to those without reserves. The application page can be found here.
• If you have any questions about the game or the world, please refer to the FAQ page; if you still have questions, feel free to ask them! For questions specific to the test drive, please ask them on the appropriate thread.
• For the purposes of the test drive, your character will have access to all magics taught by the Coven if they're a Witch, and as much of their shifted form as you'd like if they're a Monster. Feel free to play around and experiment with each!
• Test drive threads can be used as samples for your applications!

You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the wind brushes playfully against your face -

and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that.

The Underground

Take a moment. Let your eyes adjust to the dark, your ears to echoing silence, but for the steady drip of condensation down the stone walls that surround you. The tunnels down here are wide, the ceilings high, but they are dim, devoid of sunlight and breeze. The only light, in fact, comes from the shards of softly-glowing shards of quartz lining the ground and the bio-luminescent algae that smears the stone in long, blue veins, pulsing gently, pushing breathable air into the otherwise-stale passageways. The air is damp, but the temperature is moderate - almost comfortable. The tunnels fork off and meander from where you are, some narrowing and some widening, but none seem to lead you to the surface, no matter how long you wander. Is it a trick of the light, that the algae glows a little brighter, pulses a little quicker, when you head in a particular direction? It's hard to sort your senses so deep underground, far from the world above where things make sense. Hopefully you've found a friend by now.

The Crystal Cavern
Many of the tunnels, both wide and narrow, lead to the same place: a massive chamber hewn out of the stone by time, and the drip-drip of water from the ceiling into the central lake. Perhaps you came out toward the bottom, and the ceiling is a thousand feet above you, or maybe you came out toward the top, and the lake is a thousand feet below. There are a hundred or more holes in the sloping stone walls that lead to more tunnels, and something like natural steps down from most of them. In a way, it resembles a beehive, this room acting as a central hub of sorts.

This is also the first place you find signs of life. Short, tough little tufts of grass growing from the thin soil, bone white in color, having long abandoned photosynthesis and chlorophyll. More of the glowing algae. Small, skittering insects - beetles, grubs and worms. The occasional albino rat, much larger and louder than rats have any right to be. Ruffled and capped fungi growing on the wet rock like parasites, some as large as a grown man. Blind, slimy cave fish wriggling around in the still waters of the lake.

And milling around the great stone cavern, slurping up the glowing algae that covers the rocks and grows in lacy sheets across the water, are dozens of great beasts, bigger than horses. Shaped like worms, but with dozens and dozens of stubby, fleshy legs, these creatures are huge, with velvety, multi-colored hides, and though their antennae wave in curiosity when approached, they don't seem aggressive. At least, as long as you avoid the big silk-wrapped bundles stuck to the walls and ground all over the cavern. These are their egg sacs, and if their young are threatened, they'll quickly shoot jets of viscous slime, a quick drying adhesive, that can slow and trap even the strongest adult. If you find yourself in a sticky situation, you better hope someone can wrench you loose - the worms seem content to eat algae, until they've caught prey. Each worm has a long, hooked, chitinous blade concealed within its fleshy jaws to tear and shred, and a nightmarish round mouth full of multiple rows of teeth.

Navigate carefully. There at the bottom of the lake, where it feeds into an underground stream that leads down another wide tunnel, there are a few small rowboats, some missing oars, certainly not enough for everyone. You'll have to share if you want to get out of here. Or you can keep hanging out with the giant wormipedes.

The Procession
As you proceed down the stream by boat, the lighting grows just a little brighter, seeming a little more purposeful in how the glowing algae is planted, how the softly glowing crystals are placed. You start seeing a new type of moss, greyish-green and growing in ragged sheets from the ceiling of the tunnel. Watch your head - it's near impossible to cut through this stuff should you get tangled. For a while, you only hear the soft splashing of the gentle stream, but then... there is a flash of torch light, up ahead.

The boat ahead is longer than the one you use, better kept, and full of people - three Monsters, all whose forms are based on creatures that thrive underground, in pieces of armor, holding spears, and one very elderly Witch woman, seated in the middle, wrinkled hands folded primly in her lap. Her milky gaze stares straight ahead, with something soft and proud in the set of her face. One of the Monsters holds the torch, the other rows the boat, and the third settles down next to her; they speak in hushed voices, with little smiles.

After a while, the rowing Monster slows the boat, before they can bump into a thick, heavy, impenetrable curtain of grayish-green moss that stretches across the whole tunnel, blocking the way, like a gate. The other two help the woman to her feet, and guide her toward the front of the boat - and the curtain of moss. She reaches out for it blindly, and they help her step onto the edge. There is something almost ritual or reverent about the movements, the way they regard the Witch as she touches the curtain of moss... and is wrapped into it quickly, swallowed up, absorbed. After twenty minutes of gentle pulsing, the lump that used to be the Witch is no more, and the whole of the moss pulses with light and magic. The Monsters watch this whole process vigilantly, and once the lights die down, they continue on. The moss parts to allow the boat through, brushing against the Monsters but not swallowing them.

The procession happens a few more times, in separate boats, with separate victims - but all are very, very elderly, and seem proud, even happy to meet their fates. Trying to follow them further after the ritual will have the same thing happen for your boat - the moss will part, and brush over those in the boat without causing harm. If you happen to be infected with the Cwyld, however... you might meet the same fate as the old woman, with the moss reaching and grabbing for you. The procession can be stopped, but drawing attention will draw the ire of the Monster guards, and, strangely, the victims themselves, who will fly into a distressed rage at the interruption.

The Marketplace
Beyond the veil of moss lies... civilization? The cavern is enormous, big enough to contain a city at least as big as Aefenglom, if not larger, though the population at a glance seems to be much smaller. Twenty thousand people, perhaps, give or take. Buildings have been carved out of huge stone spires, or formed by draping cloth around and between the natural stalactites and stalagmites. Monsters tend to be quite tall or bulky, possessing obvious physical strength, while Witches and humans tend to be shorter than in Aefenglom. They all mingle on the streets together, with no immediately obvious class difference. Since there is no weather to dress for, some don't bother to dress at all, though humans at least tend to wear flowy silks or simple clothes made from wormipede hides. The streets are wide and the buildings far-spaced, and many get around on the backs of those worm creatures, having made them saddles and reins.

The stream ends in a lake right next to a marketplace, with many small boats docked on its pebbled shores. The stalls sell all kinds of goods: clothing made from fine silk and worm hide or rat fur, skewered meat (It's bug.), weapons, armor, jewelry made from chunks of beautiful stone. Your arrival is bound to cause a stir though, so keep your head down, and maybe it's time to snatch a disguise from one of the clothing stalls.

Monster guards, occasionally flanked by Witches, patrol the streets and keep the peace, and stopping to talk to anyone will make one thing clear: they are not at all used to outsiders. They won't believe a word you say about being from above ground, and they've never heard of your world or Aefenglom. You're nomads from the tunnels, right? Of course, don't be ridiculous, you can't fool them with tall tales! At least they're usually willing to talk - briefly, of course, everyone is very busy down here, it's morning and many will be heading to tend to the herd soon.

Those who are subtle and pointed in their questions can learn a lot about the vast but also small civilization below the surface of the world. Strength is valued here - the stronger the Monster or more powerful the Witch, the higher their rank in society, and the closer they live to the center, largest spires of stone. Monster-Witch Bonded pairs are the be-all-end-all, and often wear matching wrist-guards or pendants proudly. Pretending to be Bonded to another will put many of the natives at ease, though Monster-Monster pairs get snide comments about how you have to team up to find a good Witch, and Witch-Witch pairs will get odd looks and assume you both have a very strong Monster partner somewhere. It must be quite rare for Witches to go un-bonded here, and any who pass through without an obvious partner may be propositioned by young Monsters showing off their various talents. Unbonded Monsters may be nudged in the direction of any strange, unbonded Witches - usually fellow Mirrorbound - in a poor attempt at matchmaking. Those poor unbonded Witches need protection, right? Or so the locals think.

It's too bad trying to go any farther than the Marketplace will get you stopped by guards and turned back, however. They don't allow nomads into the inner city.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The comment about him talking a lot rolls off Reynir without comment or other pushback; it's not as if he hasn't heard versions of that from just about everybody in his life at one point or another. The important thing is that Emil can understand him, and thank goodness for that. Reynir wants some answers.

The answers that he gets, however, are fairly confusing. Emil is much more casual than Reynir would have expected about how he ended up in the dreamspace, something that doesn't make much sense until he explains that some even stranger things have been going on for him. ]

But - how is that possible? I only just saw you when we made camp and went to sleep, and you were in Finland with me, not in this - Aefínglom. [ He tried. ] How is...

[ But Reynir trails off, touching his chin as a look of dawning comprehension comes over him. After all, time in dreams doesn't always play by the exact rules of he waking world. It could be that this Emil is an omen, or indeed speaking to him from the future. One more key piece of information that Emil said, however, has sunk in: ]

You're a mage?!

[ Reynir just blinks, round-eyed, for several seconds. But then a grin is tugging at his mouth as he says: ]

I guess that explains... well, a lot, actually!

[It's a little strange, talking so easily with Reynir and having him understand what Emil is saying. It's sort of strange, too, that Reynir seems to be listening and actually considering what Emil is saying, that's something he isn't used to from the people at home, even when they can understand him. But Reynir seems to take him seriously and asks him questions about what he's saying, and Emil is quick to respond, with surprisingly little irritation in his voice.]

That's strange...I've been here nearly a month already. What's the last thing you remember that we did, besides go to sleep?

[It's hard to piece together what might be going on, and Emil isn't very optimistic about what information he might get from Reynir, considering the other boy has always come across a little airheaded. Oblivious to the irony of himself thinking of anyone else as airheaded, Emil nods as Reynir asks for clarification that he's a mage. Emil's about to 'yes, yes' him and explain what he's been training, but then Reynir is following up by saying that explains a lot.]

Wait, what? What does it explain?

A month?! How...

[ Reynir breaks off, staring at Emil wide-eyed and eventually just shaking his head. He doesn't understand it, or how it can be possible. He believes Emil, though. Why would he lie? Just because Reynir doesn't understand yet doesn't mean it is untrue. He just needs more information.

Emil, it would seem, has that same impulse, asking what Reynir remembers last so they can compare memories, events. Reynir taps a finger against his chin and then answers: ]

Well, a lot of it was just... the stuff we do all the time on the journey. But we were only half a day's journey away from the sentinel. Mikkel was sure of it.

[ As for Emil being a mage, well, that one is easy: ]

It explains the dream. With Lalli, and his memories. How else could you have been in the dreamspace? I've never seen someone who isn't a mage there. It just doesn't happen. Maybe you were a mage the whole time and didn't realize it like me, or maybe... I don't know, maybe the gods saw you were on a dangerous expedition and decided to favor you just now...

[ Reynir doesn't seem too concerned with which one of these explanations is the truth - he is just looking at Emil with bright eyes and a small smile. He had been so happy when he discovered he was a mage, even though the others hadn't believed him. Well, he is going to believe Emil - and he isn't going to hide that this is a good thing and he's glad of it. ]

Frankly, I have no idea. It doesn't make a lick of sense.

[Emil shrugs a bit, just looking at Reynir's clueless wide-eyed face. He'd be inclined to think Reynir's probably a moron, even now that he can talk to him, except that he doesn't know the answer either, so if Reynir's a moron then so is Emil. When Reynir explains that mostly it had been normal things they'd done, Emil makes a tiny sound of frustration. Half a day's jourey from the sentinel...it's pretty close to what he remembers last.]

Well, that's difficult to pin down, time-wise...

[But he drifts off as Reynir is suddenly explaining that he remembered Lalli and his memories and that whole dream sequence and all that, and Emil raises his hands in silent supplication to gods he doesn't even really believe in.]

You could have mentioned remembering that when you were telling me what happened before you left. God. I remember that too, learning all about what happened to Lalli when he was a kid, and your painfully obvious crush on his cousin and all.

[It's a bit flippant, because the other part of that seems more important.]

I doubt I was a mage the whole time, and I really doubt that the gods suddenly saw fit to make me one, considering I spent most of my life believing in them. Either way, I was always different in dreams than Lalli was. I can't say if it's different than how you are, since I don't think the thing with Lalli's past was a normal dream. It felt different. Usually I sort of forget, off and on, that I'm having a dream and just sort of go along with whatever's happening, even if it's weird.

[A shrug, and a sigh. Lifting a hand, he rubs it over his face.]

This is exhausting. Honestly.

[ Reynir doesn't dignify Emil's remark about Onni with a comment. He is plenty used to being teased and he is not going for what seems to him to be meaningless bait. And if his face happens to get much, much pinker, well, at least they're in a dark dank cave and Emil isn't likely to notice that.

What is clear to him is that Emil doesn't understand what's going on and that neither of them are going to get any kind of clarity on it by just talking here like this. Reynir, impulsive and decisive as he is, just gives a short nod and sets it aside for the time being. He has faith that they will find an explanation sooner or later. He must be here in this dream with Emil for a reason. Perhaps it will all become clear in time. ]

Well, let's not worry about it right now. Even if... those things aren't infected, I still say we should get the hell out of this creepy place.

[It might surprise Reynir to realize that Emil is extremely observant about that kind of thing, so he can't quite help smirking a bit to himself when he sees Reynir's cheeks go red. But he's a generous sort of person and he lets it go without comment.

Besides, they've got bigger things to deal with right now. He does, at least, agree with Reynir when he says they can not worry about it for the time being, and he nods.]

Don't tell anyone I said this, but good idea. Let's go.

[Stepping backward, he furtively scans the area looking for a way out that doesn't involve creepy people-eating moss or culty boat people. But while he's looking around for a direction to go in, he forgets to watch where he's putting his feet. And so he puts his foot on one of the weird bundles of creepy thread crap wrapped around who knows what, and only realizes he's done it when he feels his boot squelch as he rests his weight on it.]

Oh gross.

[Not like he's not used to getting gross goo on himself or anything. He's also pretty used to violent reactions from whatever creature he's disturbed. And this place delivers on that, as the worms turn to look at them, and suddenly he feels extremely exposed.]

Jävlar! I think they noticed us.

[ Reynir, for his part, scans the area as well. It's not that he doesn't believe Emil about being a mage - he does - but who knows if he has come far along enough with his powers to notice the sorts of spirits or ghosts that Reynir might be able to see. Still, there don't seem to be any threats apart from those giant awful worms...

He hears it, first. The crunch and awful wet squelching as Emil steps on one of those strange bundles. Reynir whips his head around to look... as do a few of the nearest creatures. The Icelander looks between Emil, frozen in horror, and those worms, who seem decidedly more interested in their presence...

And it's not just that they've been noticed. One of them lets out an awful, wordless screeching and surges towards them, opening its awful maw. Reynir reacts on instinct, grabbing Emil by the shoulders and hauling him away. The two of them narrowly dodge the projectile slime that lands where they were standing just moments before, and from the smell of it, whatever it is - acid or adhesive or both - the stuff is powerful and very, very bad. ]

Shit shit shit, we gotta get outta here! C'mon!

[ And Reynir grabs Emil's sleeve, doesn't let go even as the two of them run full-tilt through the cavern, but the creatures are everywhere... ]

[For a long moment, Emil is frozen in his tracks, wide-eyed and with his mouth half open, as that gross thing screeches at him and then unfolds what looks like a giant machete or something, except hooked at the end, and it's awful. All that runs through his head over and over is 'jävlar' on repeat, until suddenly Reynir is grabbing his shoulders and steering him away from the rampaging creature.

As soon as Reynir gives him that momentum, Emil is running too, darting out of the way of the projectile slime vomit with the acrid smell, and Reynir is swearing, hanging onto his sleeve. Twisting his hand, he grips Reynir's sleeve in return, his mind moving as fast as it can, his breath coming sharp and shallow. He's already getting tired; Emil has never had really great endurance when it comes to running, but he keeps pushing himself.]

They're...they're gaining. Shit, fuck, we're gonna get stuck down and eaten!

[Unless he does something about it, of course. Blinking to himself, he thinks for just a few seconds, and the distraction has him tripping slightly over his own feet. For just a moment, he totters, his balance wavering, but then he catches himself.]

You think these guys like fire?

[ Reynir's stomach drops in terror when he feels Emil stumbling, and for a moment he thinks they are both going to go crashing to the ground. But Emil regains his balance, thank the gods. Still, Reynir can hear how hard he's breathing, and there are no exits he can see, no rescue coming, no way out. His mind is racing, too.

When Emil suggests fire, Reynir doesn't waste the time to reply. He nods at the same time that he's letting go of Emil's sleeve, running away from him - not in the direction they had been going, but towards the charging monster and to the side, slightly. As he runs, he cups his hands around his mouth and calls, as loudly and obnoxiously as he can: ]

Hey, ugly! Yeah, you, you stinking ugly gross puke-y worm! Over here, dummy! You want a piece of this, huh?

[ It's not the most elegant diversion, but it does the trick of drawing the thing's attention. Hopefully, it will give Emil the window of time he needs to prepare whatever fiery agenda he has in mind. Reynir is watching for it, but even so, he only just lunges out of the way of another jet of that foul-smelling stuff, yelping as a little of it splatters on the sleeve of his cloak. It doesn't seem to be burning through, however, so... small mercies. He waves his long arms and whoops mockingly. ]

That the best you can do, you overgrown caterpillar?! Lackluster!

[ Emil had better hurry... ]

[Almost seamlessly, Reynir turns and lifts his hands, waving them at the approaching monsters and yelling various insults at them. It's kind of surprising how seamless it is, actually, because Emil gets what he's doing right away - distracting them to give Emil time to sort out what kind of fire he wants to use and where to apply it. Frankly, this looks like a pretty big job, it seems like quantity rather than quality would be the best option.

Taking quick mental stock of his supplies and what magic he can do so far distracts him for a moment, but then things get very abruptly very intense when he sees that glop of goo landing on the sleeve of Reynir's cloak. Okay. Okay. The danger is real. Think quick, Västerström!

With a practiced movement, he pulls his flask of liquid accelerant from a pocket at his belt, pulls it open, and sprays it in a wide arc, trying to catch as many of the giant gross bug-things as he can with even a few drips of it. Putting that away, he takes a deep breath, and tries to center himself, tries to focus as much as he can in the moment and 'feel the magic' or whatever it is they're teaching him in the Coven.

Lifting his hands, he waves them around, drawing the rudimentary rune shapes in the air, or at least the ones he can remember from what he's seen Reynir do. He's totally guessing about how they work or how they fit together, but they seem to do at least a bit of the trick. Then he speaks, the words of the incantation coming out a little garbled and stumbly, but his palm fills with fire anyhow, and he lunges forward before he has a chance to be proud of himself or anything, and lights the accelerant on fire.

It catches in a rush, the fire licking up the fluid and then attaching to the bugs. More screaming, and they start flailing toward the two of them. In another well-practiced motion, he grabs at Reynir's sleeve and gives him a solid yank while his left hand plucks one of his little explosive grenades from his belt. Turning in a smooth motion, he drags Reynir behind him, setting himself between the Icelander and the monstrosities, before giving him a firm shove.]

Go! I'll be right behind you.

[And then he manages to reignite the flame on his hand, lights the bomb, and throws it in a smooth arc toward what he figures is going to be the center of the throng of them when the bomb is set to go off.

And then he's running too. Not just from the worms, but also to get himself and Reynir the hell out of the blast range of that thing.]

[ Reynir does not go right away, when Emil tells him to. There's a half-second's hesitation, his expression - lit by the flickering orange of the flame spreading over those shrieking worms - is one of fear. Not for himself, but for Emil. He doesn't want to run and leave Emil behind. That had made sense, back in the Silent World, where he wasn't immune, and even a scratch could mean worse than death for him. But here, now? Leave Emil behind?

It's only once Emil has lit the bomb, thrown it, and started to run himself that Reynir runs, too. His legs are long and he is fast, and the two of them pelt away blindly. Reynir has some experience with Emil and his love of firepower - his hands are already covering his ears when he feels the concussion of the explosives going off.

They keep running a short ways, and then, as if by some shared silent cue, both come to a stop, breathing heavily. Reynir looks back, but they are not being pursued any longer. All that's visible is dust and debris in the air, licking flames, and silence.

He turns to Emil, breathless and, now that they are out of danger, beaming. ]

You did it!

[ He grips Emil's shoulders in his relief, giving him a tiny shake and laughing, long face alight with relief and happiness. ]

And those runes! That fire! That was so badass!

[As much as he's preoccupied with getting rid of their wormy entourage and getting the two of them out of there in one piece with all their appendages and no singe marks, he notices that Reynir doesn't run right away when he tells him to. Emil is torn somewhere between irritation and gratitude, but he doesn't have time to talk about it or process his feelings or anything like that. Not when they're literally running away from an explosion and an army of flaming centipede monsters with scythe mouths.

They run for a while even after the blast goes off, Emil manages to mostly keep himself from stumbling over his own feet or whatever obstacles might be on the ground. Once they're tucked just out of view of anything that might have been still trying to follow them, Emil leans down, hands on his knees, catching his breath. He's not expecting it when Reynir bursts out with that praise, about him and his runes and the fire and all of it, and calls him badass.

Emil is genuinely caught off-guard, and he looks up at Reynir with slightly wide eyes, lifting a hand to fluff at his hair and try to get it back in some semblance of order.]

It's no different than anything I did in the Silent World, that you've seen before.

[But it's obvious that he's flattered.]

Come on, it was a little different!

[ It's not that Reynir thinks of magic as above using conventional weapons or fighting hand-to-hand or all of the awesome badass stuff that Emil and Sigrun and Mikkel would do to keep them safe. But at the same time, it seems like it falls into a different category. It's more personal somehow. Maybe he is just biased in a way. ]

And who says I didn't think you were badass before?

[ He hadn't told Emil that in so many words, sure, but then, he wouldn't have known a word for it that Emil would understand, and Reynir's pretty much given up on trying to mime things out unless it's really important.

Absently, he pats at Emil's back while he's bent over and getting his breath back. Reynir listens for signs of danger or pursuit, but there aren't any. They got away.

Which means he's finally got a moment to think about the inciting incident and... ]

Man, whatever that was you stepped on, they did NOT like it!

[As thrown off balance as he is by the whole concept of actually holding a conversation with Reynir and that conversation being relatively pleasant (and flattering), Emil doesn't really reply for a few moments. Reynir pats him on the back and shoulder, and Emil takes that as a sign he should stand up and stop giving away how pathetic his stamina is when it comes to running.

Pushing his fingers through his hair again, he blinks at Reynir.]

It felt like an egg pod or some other such thing. It felt like stepping on a troll nest.

[That sends a shudder down his spine, and then he takes a moment to look around and see if he can't spot a way out of this place.]

Do you, by the way? Think I'm badass usually?

[ Reynir makes a face at that, nose wrinkling at just the reminder of troll nests and the thought of egg pods, and he can still hear the shrieking of those giant grub things ringing in his hears, and he can smell that stuff they'd spat still, and it's a pretty awful thing to linger.

When Emil starts looking for a way out, Reynir picks up on what he's doing quickly and starts to do the same. He wishes it weren't so dark, that he at least had a flashlight or something...

Emil's question catches him off guard, in that way that it takes a moment or so for the meaning of the words to sink in. Once they do, though, he gives his answer with the ease and distraction that says he didn't even need to think about it. ]

What? ...Oh, well, yeah, duh.

[ Obviously he thinks Emil is a badass! Emil is a badass and Reynir's not blind and he's not an idiot, so clearly, he is aware of that. Why is that even a question?

Squinting at a patch of darkness that seems a little less dark, Reynir nudges Emil with his elbow gently and points: ]

Maybe over there?

[Honestly, Emil is trying not to dwell on it. He's had a lot more close encounters with troll nests and troll goop and generally anything gross that trolls can produce, and he'd rather not think too long about any of that stuff. It's disgusting, and he gets the chills just remembering it.

Besides, he's suddenly more interested in what Reynir has to say than he ever has been before.

When Reynir says it, it's not some grudging admission or a dismissive 'yeah sure.' Reynir says it like it's obvious that he thinks Emil is a badass, and that leaves Emil blinking again. Usually, people don't even really notice when he does something like this. Sigrun congratulates him on a good kill sometimes, but she's still better at it than he is and much older and more experienced to boot, and it's sort of condescending because of that. Lalli never seems to notice at all, and who knows what Mikkel thinks on a regular basis anyway? So it's a little strange to have someone say it's obvious that he's a badass.]

Oh. Well, thank you then. And yes, that looks like a good direction. Wait a moment.

[Pulling out his little lighter, he flicks it for light, and moves in front of Reynir. They might both be susceptible to the Cwyld, unlike at home, but Emil still has much more fighting experience than Reynir does.]

Just stay behind me, alright?

[ Reynir notices something shift in Emil's posture. Like he's holding his shoulders a little straighter or his head a little higher, after hearing that compliment. Which... is surprising, since Reynir had thought the words and the sentiment behind them were obvious. But apparently he'd been mistaken. Interesting.

He hasn't got a lot of focus or attention to spare on that at the moment, so he files the observation away for later. For now, they just need to focus on not getting killed. When Emil moves in front of him, Reynir doesn't object, but he does glance around to the sides, keeping an additional look-out just in case. ]

Okay. But be careful.

[ It's not that Reynir thinks Emil isn't careful, normally. Well, there was the whole egg thing... but anyone could have made that mistake. He is just worried, because he doesn't know the rules of this dream, and just because they got out of one tough scrape doesn't mean they are safe now. It would be nice if that were how things worked, but Reynir has learned better.

He reaches out and holds onto the back of Emil's jacket, keeping the both of them linked and close as they make their way towards the light.

Quietly, after they've gone a few paces, he says: ]

Do you see anything?

Yes yes, whatever is out there, I'm sure we can handle it. We handled those centipede things well, after all.

[He doesn't notice that he's shifted over to 'we' now that he's talking with Reynir and they can hold an actual conversation. Already, it's more like Reynir is a person rather than a mildly annoying decoration who paints shapes on everything.

But it's not something he's thinking about too clearly at the moment. Probably not something he'll think too deeply about anytime soon. Emil isn't the most self-aware person, after all. And right now he's focused on moving toward the exit, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of danger, of more enemies. While he moves, he draws his dagger, just in case, his pace more cautious now than it had been before.]

Don't see anything particular, just more of those weird egg sac things so watch your step.

[He doesn't notice the irony of telling someone else to do that right after he'd done it himself.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TDM: MARCH

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