Magdalene de Leon (The Disciple) (
bibliofilo) wrote in
saveyourbrain2013-12-27 12:44 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME
> The Park. Man, what a nice day out. Why not enjoy it? I'm sure -- shit, yep, there's some echo monsters.
> The Mall. Exactly what it says on the tin! Dodge the hordes of teenage mallrats or take part, whichever suits your tastes.
> Rainy Day. Agh, it's fucking awful out. And is it raining those vermilion things?? Now you've got an Echo to contend with on top of everything else. Find some shelter, quick!
> PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION, HOW FUN
> The most horribly kitschy Arts and Crafts Fair you can imagine.
> NEW YEARS. What better way to start out the new year than to learn that everything you know is a lie? Or if you are already acquainted with the network pass out some resolutions.
> A food fight has just broken out in the cafeteria. Join? Flee? The choice is yours alone.
> Wild Card! Make up your own.
Glorfindel | LotR+
[Gabriel is the botanics lecturer at the uni, when he's not tied himself to a tree somewhere. He's also a washed up model from the 80s, although you wouldn't be able to tell it today. He's been off on an another of his campaigns, and apparently not had time to drop home to wash. Being blonde saves the students and staff from stubble, but otherwise he's indistinguishable from someone homeless
or a particularly grubby student, even though he's smiling under the dirt.He might nip into the mens to wash the worst off his face before heading to his lecture, or he can be found in one of the staff rooms trying to use the hot water from a coffee maker to make green tea and muttering about boiling water. Of course it's not the first time he's come in like this, and students are free to grab him if they want him, and if he sees someone from his lectures he'll wave and smile at them, and possibly head over to greet them properly.]
[B Video]
[The video opens to someone's ear, surrounded by golden blonde hair. The tip is pointed and long fingers trace the tapered edge, unsure and cautious about it.]
I don't suppose anyone else has had anything like this happen to them?
[Leaning back reveals Gabriel, although unusually for him there's something of a frown on his lips.] My hair can hide it, but I'm not sure how long for. [Given that he still does modelling shoots and ad campaigns, not to mention press photographers it's almost certain that someone will catch a photo of it, and there's plenty of proof out there that it's a new thing. But he cracks a smile finally, laughing.] Maybe I can convince people that I'm going off my rocker and I've had cosmetic surgery.
[C Open!]
[Open to anything else! Gabriel is a charity campaigner, lecturer and model as mentioned above and somewhat of a c list celebrity because of it. He's in his 50s, charismatic and generally open and friendly, and in a previous life he was an elf lord. His charities lead him down darker streets than you'd expect to find someone like him, but he can also be found in all the usual places; grocery stores, the park, and around the uni.]
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A short young man with dyed blue hair has been feeding grain to a storm of pigeons in a weedy little park in a less-great part of the city. Which might be a little odd, but he's talking softly to them in slightly broken Elvish, the better to make one relax so he can try to hold it and unwind a tangle of string from one red foot.]
Davo eliad anech, hey? Hold still, let me help you.
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His attention had already been drawn in by the man's hair, admiring it, so hearing a language that is strange and at the same time familiar is a bit of a shock. Realising he's been staring he approaches, footsteps light and movements slow. He doesn't want to startle the pigeons.
Aware that his footsteps would be silent to most, he clears his throat as he approaches to let the man know that he's behind him before he speaks,] Need some help?
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His hair really is nice - long enough in back that he could put it in a stubby tail, fine-textured and lush, tending to clump gently. It's actually a fine form of feathers.
Turning with the captive bird struggling in his hands, Julien reminds himself that he's not doing anything terribly suspicious, and looks rueful.]
Hah, you startled me... I'm just trying to get this thread off her foot. It's wound too tight, this is how they lose toes.
[hmm, that's a somewhat familiar face. Local celebrity?] - you're, uh...
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Squatting down so he can see, he then holds out his hands.] I can hold her for you? [He's no expert, but he's been involved in a few animal charities and he knows how to hold birds.]
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Hello! I'm Julien, good to meet you! I can get it but sure, hang on, hang on-
[now that he's sticking to English the bird is fighting to get loose. It beats a free wing, kicking for purchase, but Julien is practiced with pigeon wrangling and manages to get it like this. It tries to bite but can't quite break the skin, it's like being pinched with a paperclip.]
Careful, she's going to struggle. Make sure you pin her wings closed or she'll slap you. It's not fun!
[Julien knows his skin is noticeably too soft and thin, and his temperature suggests a high fever, but he can explain that away if it comes up, right?]
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He chuckles, but he's impressed with how he handles her. Nodding, he reaches out to take her, hands careful, but his grip firm.]
Don't worry, I've held a few birds in my time. Been bitten by a few too. [He's too polite to mention Julien's abnormal qualities; the language he was speaking earlier already gave Gabriel a hint towards what might have caused it. And to try and settle the pigeon again he tries it himself, tone soft and just a little cautious. He's only tried this by himself so far. It's not the elvish that Julien knows but Glorfindel's birth tongue of Quenyan, similar and with more than a few matching root words, but at the same time different, like comparing middle English to modern English.]
Shh, friend. We mean you no harm.
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ah-
[Julien can understand it, and not only because he's been learning a more standard form of Elvish for months. He can't pick up on the specifics exactly, but he's far along in the process of turning into an animal. Somehow the words sink in below the level of language.
His skin puckers into gooseflesh. Julien blinks hard, trying to keep his semitransparent inner lids hidden, and gets to work on the thread tangled up in the bird's foot. Said bird is still keeping its head up and clearly alert, but has settled for now.]
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Do you know where she picked that up from? [Maybe he needs to organise another litter picking drive. It seems to be harder and harder to convince people to get off off the sofa and come and physically help out.]
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I don't know, but it happens a lot. They just walk through string or fishing line or whatever, and it gets tangled... I hear it can happen with long hairs, too.
[It takes a pair of tiny scissors that Julien carries around, but the string is removed.]
She looks a little worse for wear, but they're pretty tough. I don't think anything's infected.
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I'm glad she's all right, though. Shall I let her go?
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[He stows the little scissors and balls up the nasty bit of string. ...what's he going to say to this guy when the bird flies off. Hmm.] Yeah, go ahead. I think she wants to get back to her friends.
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Instead, he releases the bird and watches as she flutters off to join the rest of her flock. He brushes his hands off on his trousers, and then stands, straightening his legs which are starting to ache. Then he offers Julien his hand to help him up too.]
That language you spoke to the bird. Where did you hear it?
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Then he dusts himself off, watching carefully. There's an oddly-textured pearly brightness to his eyes, but Julien does look like the sort who might wear fancy contacts.]
It's... something a friend's been teaching me. Doctor Strider, at the LSR. Ah - heniog? [Do you understand?]
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I've never met him but I've heard of him and, well. Seen him around.
I understand it. Sort of. I think I know a version a little different. [But he didn't know it at all two weeks ago.]
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[Julien can still more or less understand that. And it's still weird.] ...like but different. Hmm. [He rocks back on his heels a little. Julien is inclined to be cautious, but if this guy knows a similar language there's really only one plausible reason why.]
It's Elvish. They both are - yours sounds fancier, but I've heard Strider singing with a few of those words.
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It's a numbers club thing, isn't it? They must be related. Is it a memory of yours or just something you learnt from him?
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I need to learn to turn my phone off. Last tag for the night.
<3
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A
She steps close and then
how does she say hello.
Just standing here watching him deal with the coffee maker.
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He steps out of the way as he speaks, not one to stand between anyone and the hot beverage of their choice.
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Getting straight to the point has always been a lot easier for her than beating around the bush, and while she is fairly sure that she got the right person, checking first definitely won't hurt and feels necessary.
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He offers her his tea free hand to shake. "Call me Gabriel. You wouldn't be Siiri, would you?" There couldn't be many Finnish young women with glasses and long blonde hair looking for him around these parts.
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She really hopes that this won't compromise further interactions. "And yes."
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"Do you have your work with you?" He asks as he leads the way.