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Who: Adrasteius; perhaps you
When: 3/5 - 3/15
Where: Throughout Caissa
What: Working hard for the money; inciting the youth; picking pretty flowers
Rating: None
meet & greet; a
[ Sadly, Adrasteius is not the one with the arms. He does have a cascade of thick, lovely hair, though, and the children of this particular school cluster around him, petting him as though he's some kind of cat. But because they're nearly half his already meager height, and because they literally do not know any better, Adra doesn't feel his usual threatened agitation. He's not exactly enjoying himself, but he'll tolerate it. So long as their stubby fingers keep away from his ears. ]
--my people live in a city full of magic, just like yours. There are grand, cream and gold spires everywhere, decorated with enormous rubies that reflect so well it'll dazzle your eyes right out of your head if you look at them directly. Animated brooms sweep our streets, and the lanes of the city are dotted with huge, potted ferns that float. You can find anything you like in the central bazaar--not just armor and weapons, but food spiced with spells, rare books, and potions that'll turn you into things you can't even imagine. We cast magic with every breath. It's as much a part of our bodies as, say, our eyes.
[ He gestures to his own--glowing bright, pupils barely visible. ]
Or yours.
[ It's a rosy picture he's painting. Many things about Silvermoon are not so enchanting as he's describing. He doesn't mention the constructs that patrol the city, barking propaganda ('Happiness is mandatory, citizen.'). The guards who drag people from their beds to harass them on the street. The dens of demonic magic. The brainwashing, done out in the open, sanctioned by their absent prince. Adra's wise enough to know that such things are not for children's ears. So he smiles as he talks, genuine, but undercut with sorrow.
Not that he has time to dwell. The kids just keep piling on, fascinated by his unique physiology, and he might be starting to panic. ]
Not the ears, please!
meet & greet; b
[ Of course, he can't resist deviating from the script just a bit. When it comes time to talk about the pseudo-mana potion, Adra segues into it as best he knows how. ]
--now, not everything in my world is perfect. We do have some bad men running around, doing all kinds of bad things. And they get away with it! Can you imagine?
[ He taps his right earlobe. ]
Now, I hear you have a similar problem, children. Bad men trying to sell you a lie. You can't let them. You have to question everything put to you, okay? It doesn't matter if it's an adult, or what kind of title that adult claims to have. You have the right to think. You have the right to decide for yourself--and you should never bow to outside pressure. Not from a shady salesman, not from us 'heroes', not even your teachers. Understand?
[ A tiny chorus of 'yeahs!' comes in response. The supervising teacher might look a little worried. Maybe someone should step in and soften up the rhetoric? ]
herbing;
[ You'd best believe that Adrasteius spent some of his colle on gardening tools. Just a few things: a small hand spade, a little knife for cutting stems, as well as twine and burlap for carrying specimens. True, he lives in a cramped room with a bunch of other people and an obvious zero-lot line, but he's hoping he can claim a patch of earth for himself, someday. In the meantime, he's happy for the opportunity to familiarize himself with the local flora. He'd spent yesterday reading, observing, and making drawings; now, this morning, he's ready to go.
Back in Azeroth, Adrasteius collected herbs of every kind, and then milled them to make brilliant inks. Twilight purple, carmine, shimmering emerald. Colors infused with actual magic, pressed into the pages of handcrafted spellbooks.
Potions were a secondary concern, but in either case, he understands the importance of a properly handled plant. Gathering itself wasn't the problem. The problem is that Adrasteius remains hilariously frail of constitution, and he simply doesn't have the stamina to carry back what he's digging up.
He realizes this as he sits among a particular patch of herbs, his hair already damp with sweat from digging, his hands dark with soil. ]
Damn it. I'm going to have to start lifting things while standing in place like an idiot.
[ He paws at the soil, agitated. ]
Eating protein. Running.
[ Life is terrible. ]
When: 3/5 - 3/15
Where: Throughout Caissa
What: Working hard for the money; inciting the youth; picking pretty flowers
Rating: None
meet & greet; a
[ Sadly, Adrasteius is not the one with the arms. He does have a cascade of thick, lovely hair, though, and the children of this particular school cluster around him, petting him as though he's some kind of cat. But because they're nearly half his already meager height, and because they literally do not know any better, Adra doesn't feel his usual threatened agitation. He's not exactly enjoying himself, but he'll tolerate it. So long as their stubby fingers keep away from his ears. ]
--my people live in a city full of magic, just like yours. There are grand, cream and gold spires everywhere, decorated with enormous rubies that reflect so well it'll dazzle your eyes right out of your head if you look at them directly. Animated brooms sweep our streets, and the lanes of the city are dotted with huge, potted ferns that float. You can find anything you like in the central bazaar--not just armor and weapons, but food spiced with spells, rare books, and potions that'll turn you into things you can't even imagine. We cast magic with every breath. It's as much a part of our bodies as, say, our eyes.
[ He gestures to his own--glowing bright, pupils barely visible. ]
Or yours.
[ It's a rosy picture he's painting. Many things about Silvermoon are not so enchanting as he's describing. He doesn't mention the constructs that patrol the city, barking propaganda ('Happiness is mandatory, citizen.'). The guards who drag people from their beds to harass them on the street. The dens of demonic magic. The brainwashing, done out in the open, sanctioned by their absent prince. Adra's wise enough to know that such things are not for children's ears. So he smiles as he talks, genuine, but undercut with sorrow.
Not that he has time to dwell. The kids just keep piling on, fascinated by his unique physiology, and he might be starting to panic. ]
Not the ears, please!
meet & greet; b
[ Of course, he can't resist deviating from the script just a bit. When it comes time to talk about the pseudo-mana potion, Adra segues into it as best he knows how. ]
--now, not everything in my world is perfect. We do have some bad men running around, doing all kinds of bad things. And they get away with it! Can you imagine?
[ He taps his right earlobe. ]
Now, I hear you have a similar problem, children. Bad men trying to sell you a lie. You can't let them. You have to question everything put to you, okay? It doesn't matter if it's an adult, or what kind of title that adult claims to have. You have the right to think. You have the right to decide for yourself--and you should never bow to outside pressure. Not from a shady salesman, not from us 'heroes', not even your teachers. Understand?
[ A tiny chorus of 'yeahs!' comes in response. The supervising teacher might look a little worried. Maybe someone should step in and soften up the rhetoric? ]
herbing;
[ You'd best believe that Adrasteius spent some of his colle on gardening tools. Just a few things: a small hand spade, a little knife for cutting stems, as well as twine and burlap for carrying specimens. True, he lives in a cramped room with a bunch of other people and an obvious zero-lot line, but he's hoping he can claim a patch of earth for himself, someday. In the meantime, he's happy for the opportunity to familiarize himself with the local flora. He'd spent yesterday reading, observing, and making drawings; now, this morning, he's ready to go.
Back in Azeroth, Adrasteius collected herbs of every kind, and then milled them to make brilliant inks. Twilight purple, carmine, shimmering emerald. Colors infused with actual magic, pressed into the pages of handcrafted spellbooks.
Potions were a secondary concern, but in either case, he understands the importance of a properly handled plant. Gathering itself wasn't the problem. The problem is that Adrasteius remains hilariously frail of constitution, and he simply doesn't have the stamina to carry back what he's digging up.
He realizes this as he sits among a particular patch of herbs, his hair already damp with sweat from digging, his hands dark with soil. ]
Damn it. I'm going to have to start lifting things while standing in place like an idiot.
[ He paws at the soil, agitated. ]
Eating protein. Running.
[ Life is terrible. ]
no subject
I'll have you know that I'm an expert at both, and I can still accomplish at least one style of cooking in this Light-forsaken place.
[ The supervising teacher winces. Adra just groans. To the kids, again: "What I mean to say is that I'd love to help cook your lunch some time."
For their part, the kids are hardly listening. They are just pulling his hair. ]
no subject
[ Wukong, the Sassy Monkey King. He'll take it and wear that title with pride. Then again, don't give him ideas.
Still, watching the kids use Adra as an elven jungle gym? That's hard to watch, because what he's seeing is definitely not safe for work. Actually, it's not really safe for anywhere, because he knows what it's like to have hair tugged on and that's not okay.
Looks like Wukong will be taking one for the team... ]
Hey, kids! Come over here, look at this tail.
[ And he successfully lures a few children over, who immediately start tugging at the monkey's precious prehensile limb and he grits his teeth. Okay, maybe he could have just laughed at Adra's misfortune instead... he made a mistake. ]
So--- hey, be careful --- why'd you take this assignment, anyway?
no subject
[ He pauses as Wukong redirects the kids, obviously surprised (and pleased) by such selflessness. The kids, of course, find Wukong's tail irresistible, and infinitely more interesting than a pair of long ears. They paw at it gleefully, and Adra winces in sympathy. ]
A few reasons.
[ He walks over, gently taking a couple of kids by the hand and pulling them away from Wukong. To them, he says, gently, 'Why don't you get yourselves some cookies and juice, and I'll you the story of Uther Lightbringer, a true and brave hero?'
Once they've run off, he looks back to the poor tormented monkey. ]
First of all, I like kids.
[ He picks up another one by the waist and lifts her onto his hip; she seems dismayed, at first, but quickly goes back to fussing with his long hair. ]
Second, they need to know about us. Their lives are full of fear and uncertainty as it is--we shouldn't contribute to it.
no subject
Uther Lightbringer... what a gaudy name.
He bites his tongue, wanting to say something a little less than polite about the children, who still play with his tail and start to tug at his uniform. They want to touch his face, which he won't allow without a fight.
And he's not going to start beating up kids, even if his patience does get worn thin by the large amount of abuse he's receiving. ]
Yeah? I mean, I guess we all have interesting stories to tell.
[ Then he grins. ]
Do you, Addie? What kind of things have you seen? I mean, I'm sure that Uther Light-whatever guy is probably cool.
no subject
He stands still for a few moments, hands on one of the kid's shoulders, as though temporarily paralyzed by Wukong's suggestion. But life as an elf wasn't always a horror show. ]
Hmm. Let me tell you about the time I was around your age, and I got stuck in an enormous tree because of my magic.
no subject
[ And during his casual questioning, he closes the gap between him and Adra. With a sneaky smile, he reaches out to hopefully (and carefully) graze one of those pointy, long ears with a curious finger. ]
no subject
[ It's not quite a moan--Wukong's just grazing him, after all--but it is a slightly inappropriate gasp of surprise. He recoils, clutching his ear, scowling. ]
Light damn you, Wukong!
[ The children look a bit shocked. Wups. ]
no subject
Addie! Think of the children!
[ Though, as he feigns his shock, Wukong grins and winks. He knows how to fight elves now, he's seen the sign of weakness (or something else) that was shown! Leaning in, he tries his best to whisper just loud enough for only him and the elf to hear. ]
Although, I wonder if your cats would react in any way, shape, or form like you almost did?
no subject
He stalks up to Wukong, hissing low. ]
I'm not the one going for a grope, am I? Why don't you spare a thought for these kids!
[ Not that any of them seem to understand or care about what's going on. They're mostly milling about now, drinking their juice, eating their cookies. If they're interested, it's only in the animal way, the primal draw of conflict that no one of any age can resist.
He's not even going to answer that sass about his cats. ]
no subject
Well, maybe just a little. Hard to ignore the red that covers those cheeks and ears. ]
Hey, I only brushed it! Besides, better me than one of the kids touching them. They probably won't go near them now after seeing your attitude now.
[ With an apologetic and nervous smile, he folds his arms. ]
Will a 'sorry' do?
no subject
He glances at Wukong through gritted teeth. ]
It'll have to, won't it? After all, we're in public.
[ He sits down on the floor, and beckons to his carrier. Up until that point, the metal cat had been rolling around among various pockets of children, soaking up love. It trots over quite happily, wending around Adra, until he grabs it by the middle and sets it front of the gathering gaggle. ]
Now, kids. Where was I ...
[ BEST JUST SIT AND BEHAVE FOR THE REST OF THE DAY, MONKEY MAN. ]
no subject
Ugh, timeout sucks. ]