TDM The First

[lethevale_mods]

You probably know how this works, but just in case, here's the idea:

1. You put the name of the character you're testing out in the subject line
2. You write a starter (or several!) in the comment, with the Lethevale AU of your character.
3. People respond with their characters. Threads occur. Friendships are made. The world is put to rights.
4. None of the threads in the Test Drive are game-canon.

Here are some prompts to start you off!

1. Seeking Shelter

You were riding along the mountain road when your horse, terrified by some dark shadow you couldn't see clearly, screamed and bolted, throwing you. Now you're caught in the middle of nowhere, in Lethe Wood, and the rain is getting heavier by the minute.

But what's that? A light? A house? Perhaps if you knock, they'll give you a bed for the night. It'll all look better in the morning...

 

 

2. The Beast! The Terrible Beast!

You took all the precautions. You carried a lantern, kept to the safer streets. Or maybe you didn't. Either way, you were attacked by something as big as a horse, with gleaming white teeth and a hideous howl.

When you run into another person, will you warn them? Will you ask them for a hiding place, or stand and fight? If all else fails, maybe you can use them as live bait...

 

3. Eat, Drink, and Be Merry

Lethevale isn't all monsters and storms. Mostly, but not all. Tonight, there's a party in the Black Swan - dancing, music, and of course, an open bar. Take the chance to get to know your neighbours, why don't you?

4. Pay No Attention To The Passage Behind The Curtain

The two of you were just wandering around Lethe Hall, when you leant on a candlestick, and... what's this? The bookshelf's opened? There's a hole in the wall now, and a spiral staircase leading down into the dark. You know, it's probably best to just leave well enough alone - but you have to admit, it's curious...

COMMS	GENERAL INFO	NEW PLAYERS	CURRENT PLAYERS
main writings ooc mods mod npcs	rules setting premise faq/mod contact gameplay	reserves taken latest tdm application au workshop	contact (locked) hiatus/drop calendar latest hmd lethevale

Comments

[criminallysane]

She felt incredible in his arms, not least of all because she was acting like she actually wanted to be there. Marie wasn't holding herself stiffly away from him, or resisting his lead. No, she'd melted into his touch like she belonged against him, and she was following with a wonderful sort of spontaneity, and wasn't this precisely what he'd always wanted in a wife? Someone who could go with him, lean into him, and just delight in the moment?

It made for a radical departure from what Jeannie had been like in the end. Always ready to argue, with worry lines carving themselves deep between her brows and a put-upon look that never fully left her eyes. To Jeannie, he had been a disappointment, a man who could neither restore the circus he'd built to its former glory nor bear to let it go. To Jeannie, he'd been weak, and unable to do what needed to be done.

Funny: nobody seemed to be saying that about him now that she was dead.

And with Marie laughing near his ear and their feet beating a fast, circling rhythm against the inn's wooden floor, the idea that anything might ever be beyond his capabilities seemed absurd to Jack. Why, he was the master of the greatest show in Europe! Or he would be soon enough, anyway. He had a beautiful bride, a team of men and women he could count upon, and this whole wonderful town at his disposal. Life was good! Hell, life was just about perfect.

"For me?" he repeated. His smile went a little wider, openly amused, as they galloped about the room. "Listen! If you think dancing can scare me, you must not have met my wife."

He spun her out, keeping her close even in that. "She's a hellion, you know." Spun her back in. His eyes sparkled, adoring and unable to stay away from her. "The fiercest woman in Manhattan, people said."

Nobody had ever said anything even vaguely of the sort to him, but so what? The truth didn't matter half as much as her amusement did.

Jack lowered his head so that he could murmur directly into her ear and be heard over the music. Her hair brushed softly against his cheek. "That's why I had to have her."

For her spirit. Right. Not for her father's cash.

[gloves]

Now was certainly not the time to ask if he really meant that.

Marie hadn't asked explicitly yet, even if the signs were all there. He’d just happened to choose the daughter of a rich entrepreneur when his own business was tanking? She wasn’t a complete idiot. But what did it say about her if she, as his wife, showed such a blatant distrust in him? Regardless of whether there was a justification for it. Asking would make it completely obvious that she thought more than just the money thing was a lie, that she sometimes she stayed up late at night, staring at the tent’s ceiling, wondering if he actually loved her or if he’d made that up too.

More than that, though, she was afraid of what the answer might be if she pushed and pushed for a genuine, truthful answer. In moments like this, she thought Jack could convince her of anything. Of his regal upbringing, and his successful circus, and his affection for her. And, in his less jubilant moments, she was nervous of what he'd say. What might come out of his mouth, barked or snapped or hateful, like she was more an irritant and less his new wife.

But it was easy to forget that for the moment, with his breath against and his voice in her ear. Like they were a perfectly normal couple without a care in the world. And, from the outside, it had to seem that way.

"Did you hear this before or after you met me?" she responded, her gloved hand slipping over his shoulder, unable to hold back to slight shiver in response to his words against her skin. Marie was well aware he was teasing her; certainly Manhattan housed far fiercer women. A lot of them shopped at her father’s department store. The kind of women who were brave enough to wear bold lipsticks and rouges in public.

Well. She might have had a nanny or two who'd referred to her as a terror. (Or a few other unflattering things).

But, for now, she was happy to play along with this game. She was also happy that he was lavishing this much sweet attention on her — and publicly no less — instead of pacing around the circus grounds and in their tent like he was thinking of unpleasant things.

[criminallysane]

Her shiver did not go unnoticed.

In any con--which was certainly what this was, or at least what this had been--there came a moment when the cracks started to show. The mark, who after being read and roped and hooked had been allowed to win for a while, would finally begin to lose. This was the breakdown, the point at which the goal became getting the mark to double-down on her investment so that the grifter could take her for all she was worth before giving her the blow-off. This was the moment in which a man who'd just lost a ten-spot on an "unlucky" round of three-card monte might be persuaded to put down his last tenner to try to win it all back, for instance. Or when a duped bride, who'd recently learned that her husband wasn't quite the success he'd claimed, might be fooled into having her daddy send "just a little more" money in order to set things right "once and for all." Because surely, surely she hadn't been a total fool to fall for him, right? Surely there was something real there.

This was the phase toward which Jack was supposed to be gradually maneuvering Marie.

So that shiver of hers should have turned his smile sharp; he should've seen it as proof that she was still very much under his control and that all would be well. His sweet, lovely, trusting little wife, who'd given up her heart and a good chunk of her father's fortune just because someone had gazed lovingly into her eyes and sworn that she was special. He should have thought less of her for her responsiveness, just as he'd thought less of her in New York every time she'd let him take her hand. She was just a mark, and she was behaving precisely as a mark should.

Instead, he found it oddly enticing. To be surrounded by a crowd, and to have her physically responding to him like she liked his lips against her ear? To feel once again as unstoppable as he'd felt on the day she'd accepted his proposal? It was exhilarating. His fingers tightened a little more against her back, though he was still smiling, well aware of how conspicuous they were in the center of the room.

"Oh, I learned all that after, of course." Around them, people skipped and cavorted and pranced with the music, and Jack made sure he and Marie kept up with them. Their feet flew; her skirts swished; everything was just as it should be. But the quickening of his pulse had nothing to do with the dancing. He wanted to feel her shiver again. To see her smile up at him and know that she meant it. "When I was inquiring as to the character of a certain young lady who'd quite stolen my heart." He pulled back enough to be able to see her face, and his own expression was all amusement and affection. "I'll have you know I was sternly warned that you'd eat me alive. Which, naturally... Only made me like you better."

One brow arched, teasing her. "You don't think they misled me, do you? Sold me a lion but gave me a lamb?"

[gloves]

How she’d respond if he’d actually voiced any of that was anyone’s guess. She might actually toss away all her determination to act appropriately and tell him just what she thought of someone who’d lie so easily to someone he claimed to love.

Though the idea that, even now, she was behaving according to plan would have actually sent her into a tizzy from which there would be no recovering from.

Well, one of them wouldn’t recover from it. And, though she knew they were teasing each other at the moment, a glimpse into Jack’s mind would have given him a wonderful introduction to just exactly how much of a hellcat she could be.

The dance steps had started to become familiar and second-nature, where she didn’t have to focus as hard on them to make sure she could keep up. And it was the kind of dancing that thrummed in her pulse and thumped in her throat. If it was possible to feel free in a world where she was expected to act a certain way, this was it. It was exhilarating. She could only imagine it was something like being granted the ability to fly, to soar above everything that troubled her and allowed her to just be.

Her smile twitched a bit, looking, at least for the moment, like the curious and doting young woman he’d married, the one who’d loosely linked arms with him on the streets of Manhattan and begged Tell me all about the circus, Jack. Tell me about Europe. And all the wonderful things we’ll do there together. Instead of the one who shot suspicious looks in his direction when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“You tell me, Mr. Napier. Do you think you were given a lamb?” Marie was clearly amused, her eyes shining with something that very well might have been daring him to call her such a thing as a lamb disguised as a lion.

[criminallysane]

"You know, I haven't quite decided."

She was a lamb. Absolutely, unquestionably a lamb. That had, in fact, been her entire appeal: a wealthy, sweet, pretty little lamb who might bleat at him occasionally but would still do as she was instructed. But was he going to tell her that? Not on his life.

"On the one hand," he mused, obviously still teasing her, "you're quite fluffy... at least in certain places." His fingertips danced playfully lower down her back, stopping just short of her bustle. "And I think you'd be delicious with a dollop of mint jelly."

He had to pause for another spin, because the music demanded it and why the hell not? Then his hand was firm at her back again, catching her and pulling her back in.

"You've also got those very lambykins eyes." Which he was gazing into now, even as his peripheral vision kept watch over the crowd lest they hit anyone. Jack's voice lost some of its playfulness as he looked at her, and his brows twitched, his expression turning more thoughtful. "Really, darling, you could own half the souls in this room with those."

His gaze dropped briefly to her lips, then returned to her eyes. "So a case could be made, yes, that I've been defrauded. But then I ask myself--" Another pause, as they maneuvered their way around another dancing couple. "Would a lamb have ever been brave enough to run away with me as this girl did? Would it chase adventure with me as she does?"

He shook his head slightly, and the look in his eyes was almost tender now. "Just the fact that you're here, in this place. Dancing with me. That you haven't yet run screaming. That's all the proof I need, Little Lion."

[gloves]

Marie was considering his words as he spun her, then pulled her back (safely?) into his arms.

A lamb, indeed.

“Honestly, Jack, if you’re considering devouring me, it should be somewhere less public.” Not that any of that was appropriate to say in polite company, but Jack wasn’t politely company and there was little to no chance of anyone else hearing her over the music.

It would be wise — even while she was looking up at him with the eyes he was complimenting — to remember that if he could lie about about who he was he could lie even easier about how pretty her eyes were. Instead of being flattered and batting her lashes at him. Yes, it would be very wise to keep that in mind.

Because, though she was still here with him, though she hadn’t run screaming, any other options were very limited. Much like any communication back home. Which, she supposed, were the pitfalls of marrying a man and running off to Europe with him and his circus. She couldn’t very well make him answer up for his lies without putting her own well-being in jeopardy. And she wanted to believe in him so very, very desperately. She wanted the adventures he’d spun for her. She wanted to see the world with him content in the knowledge that he couldn’t live without her.

And if she demanded a divorce, and somehow managed to flounce home on her own, she’d be giving up all of that.

“Maybe I like having you believe I’m sweet and innocent.” Well. No. She was innocent. She wasn’t worldly. She’d wandered right into his trap like a fly into a spiderweb. Sweet was touch and go, though he’d been far more on the receiving end of her sweetness than her ire. “Maybe I’m a lion in sheep’s clothing. You like surprises, don’t you?”

[criminallysane]

Devouring her?

Jack laughed unintentionally, tickled. That mint jelly joke could've easily turned a girl snippy; it had been a bit risqué. But Marie had seen his bet and then raised it! Somewhere less public, indeed. What a woman.

And to everyone else in the pub, she must still look like the perfect lady. Only he had heard her; Jack was certain of that. Which, of course, only made her more appealing.

"Oh, you never cease to surprise." His gaze darkened, and for a moment he looked at her like he really might just gobble her up. The saucy little lamb...

If she wanted to pretend to be a lioness, of course he would let her. Encourage her, even. It would flatter her ego, and it would amuse him. And what could be more endearing, truly, than a tiny brazen lamb trying to growl?

As long as she stayed safely inside her pen, that is.

The reel ended abruptly on a bright high note, and all around them, couples ended their dancing with smiles and nods and thank yous. Jack pulled Marie tightly to him, putting his friendly smile back in place for anyone who might be watching, and dipped his head to whisper in her ear.

"But try not to eat anyone while Daddy works the crowd here, 'kay? Bad for business." He kissed her hairline, just above her temple. Then he was pulling back, with that showman's smile bright and steady for the crowd, and giving her a courtly half-bow. "Thank you for the dance, Mrs. Napier. You are--as always--the finest of partners."

[gloves]

She looked delighted in response to his laugh. When it was like this — free and unfettered and unplanned and sincere — Marie thought it was the most wonderful laugh she’d ever heard. She could hardly say she’d known him for a long time. Or even a decent stretch of time. But she could tell the difference between his showman’s laughter and the moments where he was caught off guard by something he found genuinely funny.

And for a few seconds it was like being back in New York again when the entire world had seemingly opened up to her.

Marie was breathless and looking far from wanting to growl when the music stopped and he tugged her in close. The thrill of that definitely hadn’t faded yet, even if, now married, it was slightly less taboo to show affection openly in public. It still reminded her of evenings where she’d push the boundaries of how late it was acceptable to stay out and the mornings of waking up to the excitement of getting to see him again.

“I can’t promise anything, darling. But I’ll try to behave.” She would behave. Even with their troubles, doing anything to jeopardize the chances of this circus making a comeback would be monumentally stupid. And, frankly, she hoped he’d remain in this good mood for the rest of the night so she wouldn’t be left wondering what, if anything, was bothering him and whether she’d participated in his sour demeanor.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long. You know how easily I can get myself into trouble.” That could have been taken as a threat, but she was still smiling and had offered his hand a light, barely there squeeze before he’d pulled away. Besides, she looked entirely too amused to be doing anything other than teasing him. “Come fetch me when you’re done mingling.”

[criminallysane]

How beautiful she was! Breathless and happy and asking him to come fetch her, Marie looked like the idea of girlish beauty incarnate. Her words didn't sound like a threat to Jack. They sounded like a temptation.

"I'd take you home this minute if I could."

Of all the rich lambs he could have swindled, of course he'd had to go and pick this one. The teasing, smart-mouthed one, who'd wiggle her tail at him and say, Gee, shepherd, better not leave me alone too long!

Sometimes Jack thought he wasn't half as smart as he needed to be. Love was for suckers and Bowery songs; he knew that. He'd gone to New York not to comfort his grieving heart, but to find a docile, obedient girl with money. Yet he'd come back with her.

Which was fine as a start; Marie certainly met his qualifications for a bride. But now he was looking at her and thinking about how shepherds had to stand watch all night over their sheep. All this lion flattery was well and good, but nobody ever lost sleep guarding a lioness. No, it was the lambs who'd keep a man up through the darkest hours, shivering on a hillside, because they were too precious to risk. And as he gazed at his little Lamb Chop now, there was no mistaking the look of protective tenderness in his eyes.

He wondered what Jeannie--a lioness, if ever there was one--would think if she could see this. Her useless failure of a husband, fawning over an innocent half his age! The thought shamed him, and the walls seemed to snap back into place behind his eyes. His showman's smile, however, held steady.

"Enjoy yourself. And wish me luck."

Another wink, but it felt forced. Then he was turning away from her, with a smile that told the crowd everything was just peachy keen. Another song started up, and Jack left his wife behind, forcing himself to keep his back to her so that the sight of her couldn't pull him back to her side.

He had work to do.