February 2022 Test Drive Meme

[reddosmod]

FEBRUARY 2022 TDM

Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!

All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.

Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.

Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Carnival booths at dusk]
[Image Two: Gif of a scantily clad woman walking near a large blinking automatron clown head.]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A giant spider impales small boy in a black silhouette platform game.]
[Image Two: Laughing woman with nothing but a mouth on her face.]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Dice being tossed in slow motion.]
[Image Two: Overgrown mansion in the woods.]

[NAVIGATION]

TDM Questions • Reserves • Taken • Applications • Full Navigation

[Jump to Comments]

A Less Than Typical Arrival

WHEN: Last few days of February into mid-March
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk
CONTENT WARNINGS: Clowns, creepy dolls, extortion?

---

When you arrive, the process is as easy and comfortable as turning from a squid into a Sleeper can ever be. The weather is almost balmy and blossoms bud on the trees. Pink blooms float out like cherry blossoms across the coastline. It is comfortable enough out that you might be tempted to strip down to your shirt. However, you would be the outlier: the people of Trench cover every inch of their skin and wear their gloves. Despite the pleasant weather, there's an ominous feeling and dark clouds over the ocean in the distance.

Oh, don't pay any mind to that! There's a festival going on on the boardwalk. Trenchies beckon Sleepers forward, and they'll find that along with food stalls that offer typical carnival treats (fried dough, corn dogs, etc.) are carnival games of chance. Ring tosses, dart throws, claw grabs. All of the games seem to rely more on luck than skill, and there are gambling tables set aside for people to play against each other.

Among the prizes, Sleepers see familiar items from home, as well as their welcome bag items, such as their Omni. Their welcome bag can also be won, but inside they'll find only their Lamp Friend. All the items usually in the welcome bag can, and by the end of the arrival will, be won by them, but not always for free.

While most games are free to play, some Trenchies may ask for a small vial of blood, or a song, or a joke. Less common are Trenchies who may ask you to work at their business to pay for playing their game. If you're lucky, a kind Waker and/or veteran Sleeper may come by and play for you. However you play (or don't), it feels like an unseen hand is guiding the fortune to ensure that the right items end up in the right hands. The longer you play, the more you regain, the more you feel like someone is watching you.

If you find yourself at the carnival at night, you'll find an edgier crowd, and an energy in the air that inspires a risky kind of fun. You may meet more corrupted and unusual people who greet new arrivals with their idea of a welcome. Nobody is violent, but you may want to be more on guard with your possessions after you regain them. The food and games are the same, but Trenchies are more likely to take advantage of new Sleepers. Costumes that some wear are more risqué and counter-culture. You may find yourself dragged to play a drinking game by a joyful but slightly uncouth looking Trenchie in clown make-up. The prizes to win at the booths that sit next to your own items are unsettling looking but… harmless. Probably.

F.A.Q.

1. Sleepers can identify which Trench item, such as Omni, Lunar Orb etc., is theirs by either a label with their name on it or that presence watching them from behind urging the knowledge into their mind. Suddenly they will just know it is theirs and that someone watching them somehow gave them that knowledge.
   
2. It may be assumed that, regardless of 'how,' the Sleeper's welcome bag items are acquired by the end of their time at the carnival. The Moss King ensures that nobody ends up walking away with the wrong items, ensuring a loss or a gain here and there to manipulate fortune just right. But any number of awkward and fearful possibilities exist in the meantime while you roll the dice!
   
3. There are carnival rides at all hours, but they are limited to: carousel, ferris wheel and House of Mirrors. At night, the House of Mirrors becomes a House of Horrors.

Luck Be a Lady

WHEN: Last few days of February into mid-March
WHERE: All over Trench.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Giant spider, forced combat, creepy mouth face ghost lady

---

[From A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO THE UNKOWNS OF TRENCH, written by and added onto by many Arcane Scholars through the centuries and found in the Archives.]

"There are a number of phenomena, plant-life, creatures and entities big, small, incorporeal, corporeal, so on and so forth that have yet to be defined. Are they more Pthumerians, half-Pthumerians, a creation of one, a product of blood pollution? We simply do not know, but that only increases the need for understanding how to survive them when they appear. Yes, many appear benevolent, for now. But many more have their dangers and caveats...
THE LADY OF LUCK
An ironic name to be sure and what is theorized to be a being or phenomena with some sort of connection with the Moss King as it only ever occurs in the beginnings of his designated month, after all. Anyone who experiences a moment of good luck or chooses to take a gamble that pays off will soon find themselves tested by the Lady of Luck. A card will suddenly appear in the hand of the lucky person seemingly out of thin air.

The moment the card is turned around to view its face, the holder's fortunes and fate will shift depending on which letter or symbol on the wheel they look at first, and not all will have an effect. Every year the effects change without repetition, records of each have been lost to time and have no value for the purposes of this guide. The only common advice recorded over the years amounts to one word: win. If you do not, misfortune awaits."

This year's tests by Lady Luck are as follows:

T: Reality distorts around you and anyone within a twenty foot radius is pulled into a cylinder of bright colors. The afflicted are made to dodge giant falling candy and work together to push them into sets of three matching candies until they crush together and eventually there is only one row of piled giant candies. If successful, the cone keeping them in that colorful nightmare will drop and characters will find the candies they crushed were objects in the area at the time. A bag of hard candies replace the card in their hand as a reward. When the candies are sucked on, you will feel energized and gain the ability to float.

A: This time the world shifts to appear two dimensional and black and white, you and everything around you are reduced to a black silhouette. You have to leap from moving platforms, solve puzzles and climb ladders. To get to levels above or below you, you must break through with a leap to punch up or stomp down. The goal is to reach a clear finish line and what drives you forward is a massive black spider. Many of the puzzles and obstacles require two people to solve and get over. When you reach the end, your card will be replaced with a white feather. It's a single use item that can revitalize anyone you place it on. Also, you have indeed been jumping through the roofs and floors of businesses and houses etc.

O: A clear force field forms up around you and the nearest sleeper, anyone else in the area or who is walking by will be able to see you inside this cage. Suddenly music begins to play, dance music to be precise. And a hologram of what you're expected to do appears between you in the large area: dance battle. Literally. You are expected to fight Mortal Kombat style, but most of your moves must be some form of dance move. Lights and holographic dancing figures will appear in the area with you to cheer on your match. You can fight till one person is K.O.ed or killed. Yes, there will be a 'finish him' announcement upon your victory. If you refuse to participate you both lose. The winner's card becomes a gold coin that allows you to charm anyone to do what you wish once a year.

"After each phenomena, some sufferers report seeing a woman in the distance laughing so wide it appears she has nothing but a mouth. She makes no sound and appears only briefly, but she has earned this phenomena the nickname 'Lady Luck'. Many attribute it to her direct influence, but thus far it is not clear whether she is the cause or a symptom. Many theorize that the point of these occurrences is to test whether the individuals affected are worthy of the gift of luck."

F.A.Q.

1. Yes, the first scenario is Candy Crush meets Tetris. I am not sorry. And the feather in the second is in fact a phoenix down.
2. The consequence for losing each of these is exceptionally bad luck for a day or several days depending on player preference. Bad luck can be lethal.

The Moss King's Summer Home

WHEN: Until the Second Week of March
WHERE: Unknown Location outside Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Perceived Death by Spontaneous Combustion, Acrophobia, Possible violent death, temporary insanity, cursed items

---

The morning after your first day in Trench, or the morning after new Sleepers arrive, there is a small envelope marked with your name within easy reach. Without realizing it you feel compelled to open it. Three things drop out of the envelope: a six-sided die crafted of what looks deceptively like bone, a small white pill, and a hand-written note.

“Dear friend,

I have had the good fortune of acquiring a new summer home outside of Trench and thought to share my good fortune with the Sleepers of the city. Take the pill, then roll the die to come to me. One visit per Sleeper.

-The Moss King.”

What could go wrong? Then again, given the Moss King's love for life and death gambles, what could go right? The moment you roll the die, before you can see the side it lands on, you explode in a shower of self-immolation and gore, only to be recombined painfully at the Moss King's summer house. The house is shaped like a giant die, and you're in front of the face you rolled. Hope it wasn't a one!

• Rolled a 1: Congratulations, you're crushed under the giant die and wake up in a coffin in the cellar. How much air do you have left and how do you get out? Scream loud!
• Rolled a 2: You're in front of a conservatory. When you walk through the glass door, it's impossible to avoid the itching ivy. You're going to be uncomfortable and scratching for hours...
• Rolled a 3: You're in luck, you're at the front door! When you ring the doorbell, the sound outside is positively deafening and your ears will ring for hours.
• Rolled a 4: Crawling in the master bedroom window like a burglar from the private porch. How uncouth. Even worse is the security measure, which dumps a can of paint on your head, leaving your hair and skin some unholy and nauseating color for the next hour.
• Rolled a 5: The backdoor seems almost harmless, and in fact? It is. Nobody expected you to come in the back door, you barbarian. Better wipe your feet on the floor mat or you may never get the mud out of your shoes. No, seriously, wipe your feet or you'll be slipping and tripping every couple minutes for the next few hours.
• Rolled a 6: Hope you're not afraid of heights, because you're falling from pretty far in the sky and through the roof below. Thankfully the shingles and mattress beneath somehow break your fall into the attic, but it probably hurts like hell.

Once you're inside the house, you find a quaint, strange space. There's a surreal sitting room decorated with flowers and moss hanging down the walls and the smell of lilacs fills the air. Tea and cakes are set out for guests and you seem to have the run of the house. There are spare bedrooms that you can stay the night in and when you wake the next day, you will be in your own bed in Trench feeling extremely well rested.

Around the house, there are strange objects and curiosities, some of them very familiar and some that just seem useful. You can find at least one item from your own world here, something of great significance, or even something that you thought was lost forever. Or instead of an item from home, what catches your eye is one of the small potions that says 'drink me,' or a strange, useful tool that you find in the closet, or even a wabbajack. No, seriously, it could actually be the wabbajack. The Moss King's a bit of a hoarder when it comes to the strange and surreal things people have lost in bets. Almost anything is possible. A note is attached to the item you want with a promise: “Give and take, tit for tat.”

You can take one item from the house, for a price. Should you have been 'unlucky' enough to have rolled a one or a six? You're now in luck, the Moss King considers that suffering a fair trade. If you rolled any other number, you must leave something behind. If you do, your item is yours to keep. If you decide not to make the trade, you can spend your time in this surreal home, surrounded by hoarded knick knacks as long as you care to.

If you choose not to spend the night, leaving the summer home is a lot easier than entering it: just go out the front door... and then walk along a winding path that allegedly leads back to Trench. It looks and feels like it's going to take forever. Space warps here and you can feel it, it's uncomfortable but not painful. Before you know it, the walls of Trench are visible through those woods and you are in Trenchwood again. Be wary, though, monsters lurk and odd mushrooms with varying unpleasant effects such as hallucinations grow along this path home.

F.A.Q.

1. If characters try to enter the house in a different way than the number they rolled, they'll instantly teleport back to their starting point.
2. Despite what the note says, characters can visit the home again by rolling the die, but the pill that was taken the first time can't be replicated.
3. If they decide not to take the pill, or you visit again, they feel like the house keeps shifting around them, tilting and distorting and revealing horrors in the walls, what horrors they see is up to you. The painful process to get there will be even more harrowing and hard on the body as well. But there's benefit to continuing to go back: the objects you can take.
4. Items taken that are not special items from home and invented by you must either be a one-time use item or a weaker benefit multi-use item. One time use items would be for if you want to give your character an especially big benefit like a staff that instant heals lots of people or a big death laser, multi-use items would have lesser abilities such as providing more endurance in a fight or healing small scratches.
5. The more times your character visits and items they take, the more unpredictable the items become. It's on them for ignoring the note saying you may come only once. You may grab an enchanted sword that's supposed to make you stronger on your third visit, but find when you use it, the enchantment will randomly have the opposite effect. Single use items will also be subjected to this drawback and after their one big beneficial use, the item will become cursed and hard to get rid of, always finding its way back to you. What kind of curse your single use item generates is up to the player. Players may also decide on the method it will take to get rid of their cursed object so long as it's not simple.
6. The price characters pay to get each item may be any range of things: another item from home, any object of general value or personal value, a good amount of your blood (enough to make you woozy when you're done), a small but important memory, if you rolled a 6 and were badly injured falling through the roof or rolled a 1 and suffered escaping the coffin.

CODING

Comments

ii

[terriblepurpose]

Easy.

[The boy crouching near her with the offered cup of juice murmurs, his other hand coming up to hover behind her back as she sits up. He's dressed neck to toe in sober, practical black, down to his gloves, with hollows under his eyes suggesting he hasn't slept much, or well, recently.

But Paul has his responsibilities, and one of them is looking in on new Sleepers. He glances up at the crowd around them and raises his voice in clear, calm authority:]

She needs air. I'll ask you all to back up.

[As is to be expected, not all of them do, but it's more than none. Paul turns back to the girl and her remarkable beast, proffering the juice a little more insistently.]

Are you all right?

[dohaeris]

[she blinks. what a handsome and serious young man to come to her rescue! if only he had rescued her from anything else. she refuses to think about sweetrobin's fitting or what she looked like, lying there with white eyes, or her hair, she will not fuss at her hair, and forces herself to sit and smile sweetly at the boy.]

Thank you, I'm well. And thank you for the juice.

[she takes it and gives it a small sip.]

I don't know what came over me, I've never--

[abruptly she realizes this isn't true. she had collapsed once before. that was another girl, on another world. the memory is not pleasant and she pushes it away.]

I've never had magic blood before.

[she allows her smile to twist, rueful. lady noses the box in her lap, sansa picks it up.]

Thank you, Lady.

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul follows his own advice and pulls back slightly to give her space, putting his weight back into his heels and folding his arms over his knees. She has practiced manners, the kind that mean she might be prone to covering up weakness or distress, so he observes her carefully for any signs of either.]

Think nothing of it. [He waves one hand at her thanks, paired acknowledgment and release of her gratitude.] It happens to plenty of people. At least you weren't sick. I was, the first time.

[Compared to nearly vomiting on someone's shoes, a little fainting and barely mussed hair is 'no big deal', as they say.]

I'm Paul Atreides. I'm a Waker, one of the people who help new arrivals orient themselves. [Technically not on duty, but never mind that.] It's my privilege to make your acquaintance, Lady and lady...?

[dohaeris]

[how fortunate that he be a waker as well! though of course it would be the perfect guise for anyone who meant her harm. she glances at lady, as if she might know, but of course lady hadn't known about joffrey, and even nymeria had only acted when he was threatening--anyway. she beams back at paul. it's on the tip of her tongue, lady sansa, of house stark, lady stark, I was a hostage but now I'm free, but--she doesn't know that he is that he says who he says he is, that he isn't working for someone unpleasant, that he would be sympathetic or to her story or even believe it, how to tell it so that it lines up with what he wants to hear. she hasn't even ruled out that littlefinger is here under an alias, though she doesn't know what else to search for, and what to do if he is. she reasons that if paul is worth anything, he'll listen to her later, when she tearfully confesses, once she decides how.]

Alayne Stone. I didn't know you could be a Sleeper and a Waker. Truly, I'm so grateful to have found you.

[she sips her juice and smiles. she'd like to get up off the ground, but it doesn't look like paul is going anywhere.]

[terriblepurpose]

[The extent of Alayne's gratitude tightens the corners of Paul's mouth ever so slightly, a passing thing that unobservant eyes might not notice. He looks, briefly, just a little bit sorry for that.

She seems in minimal danger of collapsing again, so Paul straightens up fluidly before extending a leather-clad hand down to her, inclining his head politely.]

We have to look out for one another here.

[Soft-spoken advice, more than the delivery of a rule. He smiles in return as he speaks it, all the same - especially when he sneaks another glance at Lady.]

And you can be both, even if it seems a little contradictory. Is this the first game you've won?

[Retrieving her own rightful property through unorthodox means is surely still technically a kind of winning, even if not strictly by the rules.]

[dohaeris]

[the subtlety of his expression reminds her for one heartstopping moment of her father and brothers. she sets down the juice (reluctantly, but it seems to be that or the necklace) and takes his hand, beaming. she rises daintily to her feet.]

Yes, I've just arrived, I was finishing my things at the inn.

[she glances, a little sheepishly, down at her clothes.]

I could make them for the other Sleepers too, if I had the cloth.

[she drags her gaze back to him with a wry grin.]

I've never even seen these little games before, let alone won any. You'll have to show me how to play.

[terriblepurpose]

[When Alayne glances down at herself, Paul follows her line of sight thoughtlessly; there's more of her to look at than he expected, now that she's on her feet, nearly of a height with him. He almost immediately corrects his error, finding a fascinating knot in the wood of a carnival stand to look at instead.]

It isn't usually like this, the Boardwalk. You shouldn't have to be competing for your own things.

[Only slightly inane sounding, he hopes.]

So- we should get them back.

[He rallies, shifting his gaze to meet her eyes again with a firm nod.]

...and you made these? Your clothes?

[This time, he focuses on the neutral territory of her sleeve.]

[dohaeris]

[she smiles again. his flickering glances are far from the lewd stares she endured in the vale, and she hardly notices them. she wills her face to remain steady as it dawns on her that she's going to have to discuss her smallclothes with the nicest boy she's possibly ever met. don't be a child. randa royce would probably offer to show him. her sleeve does have some pretty leaves on it, a thicker matte black against the slight shine of the standard sleeper robes. there are more pretty leaves at her neckline.]

We were given the robes. I took them in a little, and I made my shift and hose. There was enough left over for a few pieces of decoration.

[she turns her wrist to show the leaves as humbly as she can. the stays and the boots she had been given secondhand. but it is with dawning horror that she realizes her own stays, made for her in king's landing, the ones she'd been wearing what seems like ages ago at the gates of the moon, are hanging on the wall of the booth behind them above a stack of bottles. a lady's courtesy. is her armor. she fixes her eyes back on paul's face.]

Are you familiar at all with these games?

[she will send lady to fetch them. later.]

[terriblepurpose]

[The array of clothing in the empire is wide and varied, even if Paul's own cultural tastes run to the austere. He certainly knows what a shift is, which spares them both the asking, and means he knows enough to spare her having to meet his eyes while discussing it.]

That's impressive. You have a neat stitch.

[He's sincere in his praise, his evaluation informed by knowledge of the craft as well as the end result. It's almost enough to keep him from noticing the shift in her eyes behind him, but not quite, and it would be beyond the pale to say anything. But still- his jaw tightens, just slightly, at the realization of whose garment that must be.]

As for the games - not most of them. But I'm a quick learner. [And he's already made his decision, he realizes.] And I know the lay of the land. Have you seen anything else of yours, yet?

[As if he has no idea - and he could be wrong, besides.]

[dohaeris]

[well, it looks like he saw her looking at something. now she will have to come up with something appropriate to be looking at. she offers him one last bright smile.]

Thank you! I thought I might find work as a dressmaker.

[he hasn't offered his arm. margaery tyrell would have found a way to grab it without looking like an utter fool, but sansa never really got the trick of it. she peers around--the rest of her things from the feast should be here, which includes at least three more perfectly respectable items. fortunately her black feather dress sticks out, even from across the boardwalk. she tucks the necklace under her arm and points with one hand, the other one coming up gently to rest on paul's upper arm.]

There.

[it seems to be hanging above a number of...orbs (they are balloons). the people at the booth all look like they're throwing darts at the orb-wall.]

Are they all throwing darts?

[the guards (and her siblings) at winterfell could sometimes be found throwing darts (or knives) at the castle walls when bored, but there were no orbs involved. are these some kind of magic blood targets?]

[terriblepurpose]

[When Alayne touches his arm, it's only conditioned self-control that keeps him from a startled freeze, and only deep-seated politeness that keeps him from gawking. He knows that other cultures have different boundaries of touch, and he's begun to adapt to those differences- but it's still a shock of intimacy, the warmth of her slim hand pressed against nothing more substantial than fabric.

It's not bad. Just unexpected. And he thinks he understands, after the initial static of surprise, what she's asking by it. Cautiously, he shifts his arm to make it possible to take, if that is what she wants; he watches her face for cues as to whether his guess is correct or not.]

Yes, Lady Stone. [Softly courteous, which he has to hope makes up for some cross-cultural fumbling.] Those are -

[One of them pops, and Paul stills in a way that's not quite a flinch.]

Those are balloons. They're a type of toy. Have you ever thrown darts? It shouldn't be too difficult, given your eye. Or I could, if you'd prefer. I have good aim.

[dohaeris]

[it is meant to be intimate, or at least open the door to intimacy, and after a brief pause to slip her necklace over her head (lady gently takes the box to dispose of elsewhere) she slips one arm through his, and brings her free hand up to rest alongside it. she shoots him a wry, sidelong smile.]

Lady Alayne.

[her tone is clearly teasing, another push for intimacy. if she had minded the formalities, she would have given him her proper title. except that girl is married, much as she wishes she wasn't. will she having any way of knowing when lord tyrion dies? it is not the time for thoughts like that, and she pushes it to the back of her mind. lady's ears swivel at the popping noise and sansa blinks, frowns briefly in that direction, and then gazes back at paul, smiling again.]

I wasn't trained in weaponry. You'll have to be my champion.

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul knows the shape of this dance. He's moved through it before, after the careful negotiations of chaperones and minor Houses, been set at the side of this lady or that. It would be a poor showing for a future duke not to know his formalities.

Except there are no chaperones here, or Houses. There's no reason for her to be doing this, nothing to gain by it except help he already offered freely. He doesn't understand, but he still knows enough to smile back, finally (still slightly uncertain, despite his best efforts - not nervous, not exactly-)]

You honor me, Lady Alayne.

[He's a good escort, if nothing else. He matches his pace to hers (not so difficult, with her long stride) as he maneuvers them towards the darts game. There's a short queue to stand in before they play, and he glances down at Alayne's remarkable companion again.]

I've never seen an animal like that before. She's remarkable.

[dohaeris]

[she beams. lady weaves around them in a tight circle, brushing against paul's side.]

She likes you.

[she gently squeezes his arm. her tone remains lightly teasing.]

So what do you do when you're not rescuing helpless Sleeper maidens?

[terriblepurpose]

[The impulse to reach down and stroke Lady's fur is a strong one, interrupted by the slight, thought-dispelling clasp of her hand on his arm.]

Then I thank her for that.

[Paul addresses the remark to Lady herself, soft-spoken and formal. There's warmth in his tone all the same, building as he finds his equilibrium.]

I don't know about helpless [she has her companion, for one thing] but when I'm not occupied otherwise, I'm a Disciple. I study the Pthumerian mysteries and tend to corruption.

Were you a seamstress before you came here?

[dohaeris]

[lady settles in beside him, nudging his hand with her nose. alayne smiles.]

I've always made clothes.

[technically true! she tilts her head, curious.]

What are the Pthumerian mysteries?

[there is still the ghost of a laugh in her voice. she was sort of expecting him to say he was a knight or something.]

[terriblepurpose]

[A perceptive creature, this not-quite-wolf. Paul saw the flash of Alayne's eyes before her collapse and the retrieval of her necklace, and of course, he has his suspicions - or really, his curiosities.

One of those is what Lady's fur feels like, which he discovers to be softer than he expects, smooth guard coat lying neatly over plush, downy undercoat. Paul's touch is exploratory as he pets behind her ears, watchful of her response.]

It's more than one thing. [Contemplative, as they approach the front of the line.] Most of it is about relating to the magic and the gods of this place. Do you have magic, where you come from? Or gods?

[Context is important, like the way she didn't quite call herself a seamstress.]

[dohaeris]

[it would be just her luck if he were training to be some kind of priest. the red priests hadn't seemed any more free to marry or own lands than the septons or septas, though she had only seen thoros of myr. his flaming sword was probably the only magic she had ever seen that wasn't very ancient (except that they said wildfire was made with magic, but nobody knew for sure). her smile is faint, rueful.

lady doesn't wag her tail (as wolves don't) but she leans into the petting, skipping forward a little in her excitement.]

We have stories about gods, and magic.

[she sighs, but in a good-humored sort of way, as if she's afraid her story might be boring.]

In the Dawn Age the Children of the Forest had a good deal of magic. It's said they flooded the neck and broke the arm of Dorne when the Andals invaded. They left us the Heart Trees, Weirwoods with great carved faces. The Old Gods are supposed to look out of them. But no one's done magic in Westeros for ages.

[alayne wouldn't have been at the tourney of the hand. few girls who had been there were still living. she hadn't seen thoros of myr very much in her time at the red keep. perhaps joffrey sent him back to myr for some perceived slight, or he left with sandor after the battle of blackwater.]

It's said they do magic across the Narrow Sea, though. Is that where you're from? Essos?

[he doesn't sound like shae, but shae hadn't sounded like arya's dancing teacher, and there were vast lands beyond the free cities she knew nothing about.]

[terriblepurpose]

[The details of the story Alayne outlines are new, but the shape of it is not. There was a before time, where magic existed and gods walked. A cataclysm, and then retreat from the world of man. It has all the trappings of a Missionaria Protectiva engineered over-myth.

But Paul has learned there are worlds where these things are not stories. Even if he hadn't, myths aren't meant to be taken seriously because they're true. They're taken seriously because of what they mean to the people who believe them. Paul nods at her explanation with the gravity it merits.

The story and the question after it also tell him that he should consider what he says next carefully. Not to deceive, but to soften the shape of the truth for now.]

I come from a place called Caladan. I'm afraid I've never heard of Westeros, or Essos. They must be far from our lands.

[The barker waves them up, and Paul unhooks his arm from Alayne's smoothly before pulling a small vial of his own blood from a pocket to offer in trade for a set of darts.]

We don't have magic in Caladan, either, or gods like they have here. That's what the Pthumerians are, but they're different than you might think.

[dohaeris]

[there is quite a lot more she could tell him if he asked! she doesn't want to sound like she comes from any particular region. not yet. and of course she doesn't want to go on for too long.

caladan is a pretty name, and she'd like to hear more about it, but she's afraid of initiating a back and forth about their homes.

some part of her thinks, do they answer your prayers? when he mentions gods, but that would be a terribly rude thing to say. is it her imagination, or is that voice in her head starting to sound a little...different?]

What are they like?

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul opened himself up to the question, but he still doesn't answer it immediately. He picks up one of the darts and weighs it in his hand, then sets it lightly between his fingertips as he lines up his first target, one of the smallest - and therefore most valuable - balloons.]

They don't require devotion or sacrifices, for one. They aren't jealous of other gods and their worship, so you won't need to give up yours.

[Many of these games are about luck. This one purports to be about skill, but even then, the slight sway and bob of the deliberately slightly sagging balloons in the wind, the deliberately misweighted darts, and the nearly imperceptible but balance throwing slant of the boardwalk here conspire to introduce chance to the game.

The balloon pops, struck dead center, and Paul picks up another dart to get its measure.]

And they walk among us, from time to time. This is the Moss King's festival.

[dohaeris]

[alayne watches avidly, gently resting one hand on paul's free arm and idly turning the needle-end of her necklace in the other.

she has never known gods to require sacrifices, except perhaps of bad habits. but devotion...perhaps this means he isn't out to become a septon, after all?]

You don't have to swear an oath to a temple and renounce your worldly holdings, then?

[she keeps her tone light and teasing, trying not to sound particularly concerned about it.]

Have you ever seen them, walking around?

[sansa had always dreamed of celebrating maiden's day, but this is...nothing like the kind of festival she'd had in mind.]

[terriblepurpose]

You could, if you wanted to. There's a variety of practices you can devote yourself to. But no, it isn't required.

[Another balloon pops, another dart picked up and weighed. The barker seems mildly put out, but Paul studiously doesn't notice.

He keeps his tone light to match Alayne's. It comes back to him more easily than he would have thought, even under the shadow of these circumstances: airy, archly playful.]

A few times. Argonaut is the one you're most likely to see. He resembles a moth, although he's less like an insect than that sounds, and he's about the size of a house cat. Do you know what those animals are?

[He's gotten in the habit of checking, instead of assuming.]

[dohaeris]

[she hopes he doesn't leave correspondingly huge holes in woolen clothes, which she thinks is probably very rude to say about someone's god. a god probably doesn't eat anything. she presses her thumb against the dull point of the needle spike. the moth ring from her parents, left behind in her escape. cersei probably threw it into blackwater bay. and another girl, who was always chasing cats.]

We had cats.

[perhaps a little rueful. her brows knit together and she turns inward, a little, towards paul.]

What makes him a god?

[so far he sounds more like a magical creature, perhaps a talking one. she had never thought about what the gods were like before. they were...symbols, maybe. she can't imagine them walking, talking. the stories about the new gods were always parables, stilted and odd. she had always preferred the stories with real characters. it's hard for her to imagine what the mother and the maiden even looked like, outside of the pictures in the sept.]

[terriblepurpose]

[It's within the realm of possibilities that Alayne has adapted to the concept of departure from her homeworld more quickly than most, the way she says had instead of has with that soft note, but Paul thinks the chances shade towards this being a past tense predating her arrival. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye, just for an instant, thoughtful and quieted.

Then it's back to the balloons, and another well-aimed toss. There's only one more dart between them and her prize.]

What are they like to have?

[He's usually caution of asking after people's past, now, thanks to the preponderance of tragedy he's found here (another common thread, another piece of the puzzle), but surely, cats are a safe topic.]

And as for what makes him a god - the same thing that gives most people their stations. [A beat, a wry little smile.] His relatives.