TEST DRIVE: April

[empevents]

— TEST DRIVE: APRIL —

Welcome to empatheias' test drive meme. This test drive is to help interested players test their characters in the game's environment. We've included a few prompts that incorporate specific elements of the game, though you'll find all of them have a lot of leeway for players to get as creative as necessary. Before diving in, here are a few things we'd like to remind everyone about the game in general:

• Date reminders. Reserves open March 25th and Applications (Canon | OC) open a week later on April 1st. Apps will only be open for four days!
  
  
• OC Reminder! Just a quick reminder that original characters are allowed. Those interested can also use the test drive. OCs do not need to be reserved.
  
  
• Emotions are key! Empatheias' premise focuses on how anyone's emotions can affect their environment, be it big or small. While not every emotion will cause a reaction, significant ones definitely will. How much effect a character will have will ultimately be up to you, the player. Also, while we're giving a lot of leeway for the test drive, keep in mind that there will be some limits in the actual game.
  
  
• Everyone has an amulet. All characters have a unique amulet that is specialized for them. It will contain all of their emotion drops and it serves as the network device. Remember, communication is telepathic. Otherwise, it works basically the same.
  
  
• Assume the character is already in the game. Because "OMG WHERE AM I IS THIS REAL LIFE" threads aren't going to be very helpful in this test drive! Plus, those are going to happen in-game, anyway. So to make things easier, just assume that they've been around at least a week or so. Still learning the ropes, but not a complete "first day" experience.
  
  
• First or third person allowed. Your threads can be in either first or third, but we'd advise being flexible about it. Remember, these threads can also be used in your application for samples! Reminder: We only require one sample and it can be done in either format. We have also made a change to our sample requirements, so look over the Applications page!
  
  
• Transfer to in-game. If accepted, you can assume threads made on the Test Drive happen in-game if the scenario can reasonably fit. These threads do not count toward AC.

Now with that out of the way, here are some prompts you guys can work from!


PROMPTS

• Prompt A: How about giving the emotions a try?

• Prompt B: Refer to the Task Board and choose a task your character may be interested in taking up. For this prompt, you could have your character ask for help, already be in the middle of the job, or react to it in some way. Perhaps they were an unfortunate victim or want to create a job countering an existing one. You could even have a prompt making a job request. Creating jobs for the purpose of the test drive is absolutely doable.

• Prompt C: How about giving the amulets a go? Start a telepathic conversation and see how it works. Remember, the amulets are sending out the owner's thoughts so might want to be careful about how the stream of consciousness goes...

• Prompt D: The Verens Emergency Response Teams are running drills to make sure that the Verens populace, natives and Otherworlders alike, are prepared for any and all emergencies. This means large scale obstruction of public areas, traffic delays, businesses closing their doors temporarily in the name of professional cooperation... and, best of all, Otherworlder participation!

1. Alpha Lava: If you asked Team Alpha, they would say they drew the short straw. They are in charge of the volcanic eruption preparedness drill! This includes cordoning off sections of the merchant’s square and residential district to conduct the following tasks: evacuation drills, where random houses are the "willing participant" of loudspeaker announcements telling them they have thirty seconds to escape their homes before they die; dunamis training exercises, to determine who would be most able to hold back or freeze incoming pools of lava; and, most helpful, the role of victim mannequin. Posing still as a statue for several minutes at a time to simulate being encrusted by molten lava is a thankless job, but someone has to do it.
   
2. Epsilon Epidemic: Team Epsilon's emergency preparedness drill is outbreak of a deadly disease! For this simulation, they will be rounding up helpful Otherworlder volunteers and distributing signs for them to wear around their necks. Following that, instructions are varied. Perhaps some people end up in quarantine, informed that Team Epsilon will shoot to kill anyone who escaped. Perhaps some people are under strict instruction to act out their sign to the best of their ability, and will be penalised if they don't! (What's the penalty? It's quarantine, or no gift bag, or both.) Perhaps they are simply dead and have to lie in the street all day. Yes, that's very boring. No, they don't have a choice. At the end of the simulation, all participants are given a gift bag filled with handmade cookies (courtesy of Team Epsilon's very own multi-talented Agent N) and gift certificate for a spa day for two. Most importantly: have fun!
   
3. Gamma Grandstanding: Team Gamma ended up with the newest preparation drill. Its official title is "People With Indeterminate Motives" (PWIM for short) to keep from throwing a wrench in the Briarlan trade deal and offending sensibilities, but make no mistake: it is about knowing exactly what to do if pirates invade Verens and conduct a hostile takeover. Some Otherworlders will be placed specifically in local business - restaurants, independently owned shops, even the zoo - and trained how to protect them from PWIM. Some businesses will be targeted; others will be ignored entirely (hope you brought a deck of cards!). Other Otherworlders will be asked to play the pirates - sorry, PWIM - themselves, complete with lame costumes (eyepatches, fancy hats, fake parrots to sit on a shoulder, itchy peglegs) for the sake of immersion. Arr! Aye, avast!

• Prompt E: Despite the rain and everybody coming down with colds during the month, everyone in Verens is still doing their best to get ready for next month's Flower Festival. And Otherworlders are definitely expected to help with prep work. After all, it's everyone's festival, so everyone should help make it the best it can be! So here's a few ways to help!

1. Sign Me Up: The Festival needs signs! Lots of signs. And lots of signs need lots of painters! Or one incredibly overworked painter, but in this case, they've decided to go the teamwork route, pairing up Otherworlders and having them make signs advertising various games at the festival! Sounds easy, right? But with emotion based paints in play, be careful. Too much negativity between partners and the wording will change, the paint could run, go too far in the other directions and the signs will be practically glowing, but possibly lead to claims of false advertising!
   
2. Special Delivery Flower Festivals need lots of flowers, and people to transport those flowers! And thanks to handy tech exchange with Briarlan, this year there's some fancy containment units for transporting them. They're really just crates with some fancy looking meters attached, meant to open up when they reach the festival grounds. Unfortunately, these new inventions probably could've used some additional testing and are prone to opening randomly sending flowers all over the place! Try and collect as many as possible and bring them back to the grounds, the festival organizers would appreciate it.
   
3. Flower Round Up! Or maybe painting signs and boxing flowers aren't your thing, so how about...corralling them? With all the good vibes in the air, it seems some of the flower arrangements have literally pulled up roots and are running around the festival. And you can't have a flower festival without flowers, so do your best to try and get them back where they belong before they run off to start some sort of flower civilization in the woods*.
   
   *They probably will not form a flower civilization in the woods, but you never know.

• Prompt F: With Verens trading with more and more cities out there, some shopkeepers have gotten an idea to try and increase sales by encouraging both citizens and Otherworlders to shop local by promoting a tour of various business in the merchant district! Though the crystal has been a little negative, they're still hoping the tour goes off without a hitch! After all, it's too late to postpone it.

1. On the Clock: The first stop is Click, Clack, Clock, a clock shop that offers delivery to anywhere on the island! Unfortunately, due to the poor weather, all of the delivery staff are out with colds, so they're looking for volunteers! And yes, you're on this walking tour, but don't be surprised if you're handed a bicycle and a clock and sent on your way to deliver a clock. Hopefully they remembered to tell you where to go before shoving you out the door.
   
2. Shine On: Assuming you haven't been conscripted into the clock store's delivery force, the next stop is at Verens' very own Restoration Works, an establishment for restoring old antiques and making them look good as new. They've set up an interactive demo for everybody, so partner up and practice using your emotions to bring some shine back to some dull scraps of metal! Sorry guys, they're not going to let you work on anything really valuable during the tour, but if you show some promise, maybe they’ll hire you on in the future!
   
3. Polg-Oh No: Finally, the tour will end with a nice relaxing meal at the Sweethearts Cafe. Or it was intended to be relaxing, anyway (who would've thought the antique store would be the calmest part of the tour?), but it seems no place is safe from the Polgo plague. Better keep an eye on your plates, otherwise the second you’re distracted, the small kitten-sized blue bugs might scurry up the table and try and run off with your food!
   
   Even if you’re paying attention, they might give it a shot anyways. So be on your guard and ready to give chase if it happens!

• Prompt G: Make your own! It could include blueberries and/or buckets.

For your threads, put the Character Name and the Canon in the subject line to help readily identify them. You're also welcome to use more than one prompt for respondents to choose from. If you have any questions or want to brush up on the game information, refer to the Game Information entry. Otherwise, tag around and have fun!

Comments

Zarkon | Voltron: Legendary Defender

[zariconic]

A/C.
[Zarkon is not a fan of this emotion-based power system. Technology shouldn't be based on emotion. It should be logical, controlled. It doesn't help that he's been having trouble with it. Yet—at the same time, he doesn't like not being in control of things, so he's making An Effort. This morning, he decided to practice his emotions outside the city. It hasn't gone well. He's making a mess.

A few trees have already been knocked over, and Zarkon's attempts to put them back where they belong have left him covered in dirt and leaves. He accidentally sends out an aggrieved message over the amulet.]

This isn't going to work.

D. Alpha Lava
[If there's one person you can rely on to be helpful, it's Zarkon. Or—that's what Zarkon thinks, and he's often right. He is a defender of the universe, after all. So of course he'd agreed to help with these drills. Drills are important; people should know how to react in an emergency.

It had taken Zarkon about 4.2 seconds to become frustrated with the drill.

It had taken Zarkon about 5.36 minutes to start an argument with one of the drill team members. An argument he is currently in the midst of. It's not hard to hear what he's saying. His voice carries very well.]

You're going about this all wrong! Yes, you are. Which one of us has evacuated numerous cities?

[Zarkon, that's who.]

F. On the Clock
[Zarkon's not entirely sure how this happened. He's not one for "walking tours", but he'd taken one, because he must learn as much about his current surroundings as possible. Which is why he ended up in the clock shop. Which is why he ended up conscripted and pushed out the door—clock in one hand, directions in the other, bicycle leaning up against the nearest wall.

Zarkon peers at the bicycle. He's supposed to ride that thing? It's flimsy. But he should help—he can't abandon his duty. He frowns down at the written instructions in his hand. They're not very well-written.]

These don't make any sense.

[His irritation, unfortunately, creates a cold wind—which promptly and mischievously blows the paper from his hand.]

Wait, come back!

[Zarkon goes for the paper, but unfortunately, his irritation is continuing to create various breezes and gusts, so the paper dances through the air, out of his reach.]

Wildcard
[Do as you will!]

D

[tookashirototheknee]

[Matt has no idea what he's getting into, but he's in a rather good mood, so he's watching the situation with bemusement while eating one of Hunk's cheerful dunamis apple pastries.

After a moment, he calls out.]

You might have, but have you ever attempted to herd people with sometimes uncontrollable emotional effects? Sometimes logic doesn't exactly apply.

[zariconic]

[Zarkon never backs down from an argument—well, rarely—and when a new contender enters the fray, he turns toward Matt without a flicker of hesitation. It doesn't matter how many people are arguing with him, he will take them all on. Still, his tone isn't hostile so much as very, very confident.]

I've evacuated a variety of communities.

[Don't question his experience.]

All the more reason we shouldn't be depending on this "dunamis" in such a crisis!

[tookashirototheknee]

Oh, I don't doubt it.

[Matt straightens for a moment, taking a few steps forward.]

I was't really saying rely on it, because let's be real here, when was the last time anyone could truly control emotion? It comes out in strange ways, and explodes all over the place.

It's knowing how to work with it, and being able to figure out how to patch the holes, or duck when something's going bonkers.

[Does Matt actually know what he's talking about, or is he pulling things out of his ass? Who knows.]

[zariconic]

You might not be saying it, but that's what they're doing. Testing civilians to see which would be best at holding back lava with their feelings?

[The idea is 100% absurd to him.

Zarkon feels as if his point has been proved, and he also straightens, gazing down at Matt, his attention focused on him fully now.]

It's not acceptable. As you've just said, "when was the last time anyone could truly control emotion"? My point precisely. What will their control be like when they're faced with an oncoming wave of lava? This is not a matter of patching holes.

I JUST CACKLED FOR TEN SOLID MINUTES also F

[dadofmarmora]

[Kolivan is old as balls, and he has seen some shit. The end result is that the bulk of his emotional effects in this place have proven to be very subtle, such that only those closest to him even have the opportunity to learn to read them. This suits him just fine, both in terms of taste and in terms of personality. After all, it's not as though he has no emotions at all -- Kolivan cares very deeply. He's just been through so much, and dealt with so much, that there is very, very little that can knock him away from his even keel for very long.

Rounding a corner and seeing Emperor Zarkon chasing a piece of paper down the street sure does it. And so it is that everyone, Kolivan included, gets to learn just what happens when something startles him so badly that Everything Is Wrong and we must Abort the Mission and he has Too Much Intel and has to infodump immediately or the whole planet's gonna go, and so on.

His heart stops. Kolivan literally straight up just gives himself a heart attack.

Any chance for stealth is completely lost now; Zarkon is bound to notice the decidedly unhappy Galra clad in Empatheian civilian wear off to the side here, coughing and hacking and carrying on as he beats a fist against his own chest, trying to kickstart his organs into functioning properly. This immediate problem is so distressing Kolivan can't even gather himself enough to fire off a word to the paladins over the amulets. Oh dear, oh dear, knowledge or death, he has too much knowledge now --]

GOOD I'M GLAD TO HAVE AMUSED

[zariconic]

[While Kolivan's emotions and heart are in peril, Zarkon is supremely focused upon obtaining that paper. Yet his annoyed pursuit continues to create more whirling wind gusts of emotion that make his task more difficult, no matter how quick and agile he is. The paper is maddeningly elusive. Just when he's about to decisively grab it—the breeze spirits it away again.

Zarkon is not about to fail at such an elementary task as clock delivery! He's been cradling the clock to his chest while grabbing at the paper, but it's in the way. It's when he pauses to put the device down and out of harm's way when he notices the Galra. It's unexpected. Most of the people here are of species unfamiliar to him. He can't afford to stop and reflect on it, because that paper is in danger of being blown away completely. He has to act now. The handwritten instructions came from the customer; he isn't sure if there's another copy.

Wait, why is that Galra coughing and beating his chest? He looks strong enough. He's on his feet, and he isn't suffering from any obvious injury.

Zarkon has no way of knowing what's wrong, but he's not without concern for Kolivan's well-being. At the same time, he really doesn't want to lose his paper. He could see to the stranger or continue his pursuit. In the end, he does both—sort of. He gestures toward Kolivan, and speaks with the ease and authority of someone who's used to giving commands.]

Are you unwell? Assist me, if you're able.

[dadofmarmora]

[Gosh. There it goes, things are running as they should be again. Probably. Okay. Gonna -- gonna have to learn to dunamis that, make sure it doesn't happen again.]

-- a moment, lord.

[Kolivan stalls for a moment, disguising it under a genuine need to get his breath back. His mind is working just fine now and the first thing he notices is that Zarkon's voice is not the monstrous, gravelly tone usually associated with him. A glance reveals pupils and irises, rather than the unholy glow of too much quintessence. Is he...is he from before the incident in the rift...?

Well, there's only one way to find out and that's to investigate. He debates sending for the Paladins now, but although Kolivan has all the tact of a brick flying directly at someone's face on the best of days, even he knows that doing so now would actually be unwise. Giving them nothing but "Zarkon is here" would very likely give Shiro a similar medical emergency. Allura would blow up whatever building she is currently standing in. Keith would probably manifest from the shadows and attach himself immediately to Zarkon's shoulders like a pointy, knifey space monkey. No, no, more intel is necessary and nobody but Kolivan is here to gather it.

Knowledge or death, Kolivan thinks again, in a "fuck it" sort of way. Wondering vaguely if this is how Ulaz felt most of the time, Kolivan takes one more deep breath and off he goes, running to help the most horrifying and brutal tyrant the universe has ever known chase down a small piece of paper.]

[zariconic]

[Well, he isn't completely surprised by a Galra needing a moment to adjust to his presence—if they weren't expecting to encounter their leader here. When Kolivan runs to carry out his order, that's not surprising, either. He's aware that this whole affair is somewhat ridiculous, but he has too much dignity to admit it, dedicating himself to his task with his usual seriousness. Which maybe makes him look more ridiculous, but if so, he has no awareness of the fact. He does quickly and carefully set the clock down out of the way, so his movements won't be impeded.

Then he makes another try for the paper. The problem is that when he's near the paper, his tension increases in response to the suspense—will he catch it or won't he? And his determination has an annoyed edge to it that sends the paper continually flying, although fortunately not too far, yet. This is partly because Zarkon has made some basic attempts to control the effects of his emotions since his arrival. He just hasn't been here long enough to become very good at it. Sometimes the paper floats tantalizingly nearer—only to scoot away again when his temper flares.]

I'll come at it from this side, and you approach from the other direction.

[A two-pronged attack is probably the answer.]

F (SQUEES IN GLEE FOR DAYS!)

[heartofalioness]

[You know what's the absolute epitome of discomfort and awkwardness? Zarkon being here, and from before his corruption. If this world was going to torture her like this, then couldn't it have been her father instead, or at least alongside this? She knew from experience that information from the future had a way of making itself known one way or another here, but for now Allura had her diplomacy and her diplomacy to hide the truth beyond being Allura from his future and that the humans that were here were the current Paladins of Voltron. And hopefully Zarkon would take any sad, conflicted brittleness in her smile as mere awkwardness for the time situation.

Still, she can't help a bit of amusement at Zarkon fumbling with his effects and the papers as she honestly does just happy to be walking by. Growing up, she was more awed by the tall and serious king that led a tall and serious people, and then when she was old enough to look past that he was already slowly being seduced by quintessence. It was amusing to see him like this, even if it made her heart ache for when she still had her planet, her father, even her mother in the early years.

She brushes the thoughts aside as she catches the paper one it exits Zarkon's wind, walking up to the bike and presenting it with a light curtsy.]

I believe this is yours, Your Majesty?

<3

[zariconic]

[Zarkon is tracking the paper so intently that he misses the beginning of her approach—but sees her as soon as the wind carries the paper toward her, and then into her hand.]

Ah, Princess—

[Zarkon composes himself. Although frustration isn't an unheard of emotion for him, he prefers not to display it in public, if he can help it.

It's still odd for him to see her so grown. So suddenly, from his perspective. She resembles her father so much now. It would be pleasant to have Alfor here as well, but in his absence, he should certainly be the one to look out for Alfor's daughter. As he takes the offered paper, he inclines his head in response to her curtsy. He doesn't notice anything amiss in her smile, and so, although he does feel some awkwardness at having been caught scrambling for a scrap of paper, he recovers quickly.]

Yes, it is. You have my thanks. It seems I've been charged with an errand.

[He indicates the clock he's carrying, with a glance and a shifting of his arm.]

[heartofalioness]

So I see.

[Even beyond the faint amusement of the emperor of Daibazaal delivering a clock, the image is just plain odd. The Zarkon she remembers from her youth would've been much too proud for such a task, delegating it to a servant or having to be goaded by her father to help. Normally she'd offer to help someone further, or at least give them company, but... the idea of being around him for longer than necessary is still uncomfortable, any offers he's given to watch over her deflected as gracefully as she can with saying he doesn't need to; that she has the paladins, Coran, and the Blades here, that she has a year's worth of experience here, and that he should focus on finding his own footing. The offer to assist him should he need it was given because it would've been out of place for her not to, not to mention rude.]

I'm glad I could be of assistance, sir.

[zariconic]

[While it's true that they haven't spend a great deal of time together, Zarkon continues to consider that it is his responsibility to look after her, regardless of her feelings on the matter. However, he also thinks that young adults should be independent, so he doesn't go out of his way to impose. True, she may not need assistance now, but if she does, he will provide it, and he sees himself in the role of protector nonetheless.

It's not that he thinks this work is suited to him. It isn't, and the sooner it's over, the better—but it had happened so fast. A lot of things here happened so fast. It is irritating, and an annoyed wind continues to toy with the edge of his paper. However, it would be similarly beneath him to abandon merchandise in the street like a delinquent. (Although the idea had admittedly occurred to him.) He doesn't like to fail. As a paladin, he can't do that. He recognizes that he needs to make some effort to establish himself here. This isn't his planet, and he isn't accompanied by his servants. His rank isn't recognized. He's trying to be realistic: he has to adapt, at least for the time that he's here. It isn't easy. But, for now, such activities might help him familiarize himself with this world and its ways, which will be useful in the future.

Looking at Allura, he's very keenly aware of the fact that Alfor would probably have enjoyed delivering a clock. Well, Zarkon had grown tired of the walking tour, in any case.]

And what do you make of these?

[He shows her the instructions. They're scribbled and somewhat vague. Zarkon doesn't know these streets well enough to make out where they're directing him. If she hadn't been Alfor's daughter, he might well have passed on the task to her outright.]

[virtuosoweblumexpert]

[Who was knocking over trees? Was it the space witch again? Seriously. How often was Coran going to have to lecture someone about respecting nature?

No, wait he knows those shoulders!!!] EMPER- [And then he sees Zarkon's face and eyes. Those are the eyes of a man he once knew. Not to mention the Zarkon he knew of now would never try to put the trees back. Coran relaxes slightly and his tone softens from panic at being caught alone with an enemy to one of friendly respect.] Emperor Zarkon, my apologies, I did not expect to see you- [Ever again.] -here.

Could I offer you my assistance? [While he tries to figure out what the fuck to do next and how he's going to let the others know without a bunch of Paladins raining down on the emperor's head.]

[zariconic]

[Excuse you, his wife isn't a "space witch".

It's not that Zarkon is the most adoring respecter of nature, but he doesn't wish it any harm, either. Zarkon usually isn't one to destroy landscapes (at present), but things had happened. He also usually isn't one to busy himself planting trees, but again—things had happened. He's strong enough to move these trees, but he has limited experience with this kind of manual labor.

At the sound of a familiar voice, he looks up from his labors, peering toward the sound through the (still upright) trees.]

Coran—?

[He hadn't expected to see Alfor's advisor, but that is definitely who it is.]

So, it is you. I could say the same. Alfor isn't here, is he?

[Asking about his friend is his first impulse, since he's so used to seeing Coran in Alfor's presence. However, he'd already tried contacting Alfor, with no success, so he doesn't really expect an affirmative answer. He follows his question with a nod.]

Yes. I encountered unforeseen difficulties.

[He's not going to leave the countryside in ruins. He supposes moving trees could be a form of strength training, but it's not his preferred method.]

[virtuosoweblumexpert]

No, I'm afraid the King isn't here at the moment. [And it hurt that Zarkon was here and his King wasn't. Still, if it had to be any Zarkon, Coran was glad it was a younger one.]

And it seems you have. It's a good thing you were here to help stop these trees from... ah, falling over. [You don't spend most of your life around royalty from different planets without learning ways to try to cover up mistakes they may have made.]

If you could hold that tree up a bit longer I could move some of the dirt around to support it.

[zariconic]

I thought as much. It's too bad, he would enjoy a place like this.

[The unspoken implication being, perhaps, that Zarkon doesn't. Which is the case. He'd rather be back in his lion, on his mission. He doesn't enjoy the interruption, even if he has been told that he'll return to the same moment in time that he left.

Zarkon is just going to accept Coran's explanation for his current situation, without offering any corrections. He appreciates Coran's diplomacy.]

It is fortunate. I can't allow the landscape to be destroyed.

[It would be beneath his imperial dignity to be responsible for such a mess. Still holding up the tree, he nods.]

Yes, do so.

Combo Breaker - F

[samecosmicdust]

[Look at how nice and tactful everyone on this meme has been so far. Time to ruin that!]

[Probably in Zarkon's brief stay so far, none of the strangely alien locals have been all that hostile towards him. They also haven't shown that they knew anything about Daibazaal or the Galra, or even Voltron, of all things. Surely, it's been a terribly surreal experience for him. That isn't really going to change, because the first person to not really give a damn about letting too much info slip, or being cautious and discrete, is about literally descend upon Zarkon with an angry, bloodthirsty yell.]

[From somewhere above, Keith strikes. His luxite blade extends in a flash as he aims to plunge his blade straight into Zarkon's back. All he had to do was take one look at that armor, at that stature, to realize who he is. It took him less than five ticks to drop his things and scale the nearest building to give him the right vantage point, and even less to pin point his trajectory and leap.]

[Death doesn't stick here, he knows this, but he isn't going to take a chance and risk Zarkon doing something nefarious before they're able to do something about it. Killing him would put him gone for a week. That's time to figure out what to do about it. They could make a plan then. That's something, rather than dealing with him being here now all of a sudden and striking while their guard was down.]

[Keith's pretty sure he'll still be punished by Enforcer law if he's somehow successful. That's fine, he's willing to risk it. It's worth it to make sure no one else, local or otherworlder, ends up hurt or dead for their inaction. If he's not and Zarkon kills him, then Zarkon will be punished too, somehow or another. That can still buy his comrads time. It's a win-win regardless of who dies here, and that's exactly what Keith is planning when he aims to bring his blade down on the future conqueror.]

such rudeness!!

[zariconic]

[Zarkon is admittedly distracted by the wind-blown paper—and his own irritation at the absurd situation he's found himself in—but he's a generally cautious person. A warrior. He doesn't fail to hear the bloodthirsty yell, and he's aware of movement in the periphery of his vision. He's very familiar with bloodthirsty yells, having seen his share of combat.

He can think of no logical reason why a battle would break out here, or why anyone here would want to attack him. Nonetheless, he knows he does have enemies. He's been informed that anyone could appear here. He's instantly on the defensive, abandoning the drifting paper and dropping the clock without a care for its safety. The clock makes an unhappy sound as it falls from the rather elevated height of Zarkon's chest-level. Zarkon's hand goes at once to his bayard, and the weapon extends into a blade, gleaming purple. As he wields it, he leaps back, out of the way of the blow, or so he hopes.

The attack from above was quick and sure. An excellent assassination attempt—except for the yell. Not that he's complaining. He's thankful for the yell. Zarkon does manage to dodge just in time to avoid Keith's blade, although it's a very near thing. He bares his teeth. Around him, the wind is picking up and growing icier. He doesn't appreciate this treatment.]

What do you want?

[The words come both as words and as an accompanying telepathic transmission, as Zarkon's hostility pours liberally into his amulet.]

you started it!!! by existing

[samecosmicdust]

[There isn't much that can stop a luxite blade, but a bayard sure is one of them. Keith is actively startled by its appearance, but not so startled that it breaks his attack or lowers his guard. The two blades clash with an astonishing force. Keith, for being so small, does pack quick a punch behind his attacks.]

[Before Zarkon can counter, Keith puts his own distance between them. As his feet touch the ground, it splinters into hundreds of cracks and fissures. Heat fills the air around them, combating that icy wind. From the breaks in the ground come red hot, almost lava like bursts. Zarkon might recognize it more to look like solar flares. Less ...dangerous ones, at least. They are just emotional solar flares. This kid sure is not fucking happy to see him.]

[The hostility does hit him harshly, and all Keith does in response is bare his (ineffective) teeth back with a snarl of his own and charge forward again with his blade. It seems he has no plan to spark conversation just yet.]

no i think you'll find you started it by being hella RUDE

[zariconic]

[It's fine if he doesn't want to talk. They can dispense with language for now. Zarkon can speak the language of combat well enough. As the heat Keith's putting off intensifies, so does Zarkon's cold. He's not feeling particularly warm at the moment. He's to the point of creating ice crystals, which gather in the air and on his shoulders. He narrows his eyes at the sight of the fissures and flares, but he's not going to allow them to intimidate him. He trusts in his own abilities and his bayard.

When Keith charges him, he's prepared. There's no surprise in the attack this time, but it's well-executed. He can tell he's dealing with someone who's a trained fighter. He counters the luxite blade with his own. The blades clash with just as much force as before. He can appreciate the strength of the weapon and of his opponent, but he's more concerned now with defending himself than admiration. He has no idea why this person is attacking him, and he isn't willing to go on the offensive yet.]

F

[insidegalra]

[The cause of the effect might not be immediately apparent, as Zarkon chases that paper past a side-street, but the effect itself is intense, to put it lightly. A sudden vacuum, in a circle of perhaps twenty feet. The air is just gone, and water starts trying to boil as the people gasp in silent pain. Sound doesn't travel through vacuum, after all.

But just as quickly as it came, it's gone, supplanted by an uncomfortable humming and buzzing, almost like being dangerously close to a very high voltage current.

Thace, meanwhile, is leaning against a wall in the aftermath, as off balance by the emotions themselves as the abrupt decompression. He'd dared to hope for something approaching peace here, for equality, and freedom, and choice. That feels like it's all gone in a split second view of a hulking form he's knelt in front of entirely too many times for his own liking. Like the bottom dropped out, or getting tossed out of an airlock.

But Thace is a Blade, and more than that, a career spy. He knows what he must do; knowledge is the most important thing in this world right now, if they want to mitigate the damage Zarkon will do (and there's no doubt in Thace's mind that it will happen). He straightens, allows a cough that doesn't do anything to ease his aching lungs, and then steps out to reveal himself.

Everything sharpens-- sounds, smells, the light itself. Nothing truly gets louder or more intense, but instead more discrete, and it comes with a feeling of brittleness as Thace goes to one knee without any visible sign of the distress he feels at having to do that once again.]

Emperor.

[zariconic]

[The effect of the vacuum is so immediate and so striking that Zarkon stops short, paper forgotten. He wasn't deeply invested in the paper, as it was not of great concern to him, but he had been intending to carry out the task, or see that someone else did it for him. As both a matter of pride and a matter of interest about the workings of this place. However, this phenomenon, whatever it is, is more worthy of his attention. He isn't sure if this is a sign of danger or not. He'd rather protect the people from a threat than deliver clocks to them. Although—he is still holding the clock.

His free hand hovers near his bayard, but he doesn't feel threatened, and he makes no aggressive movement. He's only wary.

He blinks at the sight of a Galra appearing before him. Not someone he recognizes—but that means little. He obviously doesn't know all Galra, and he does know of the oddities of this place.

It isn't odd, however, for him to be treated with the respect due him as emperor. That, he accepts as natural.]

You may rise. Identify yourself.

[insidegalra]

[He's not been attacked and killed, which means that the Emperor must be from a time before his status as a spy had been revealed. Very far before, if the lack of that sinister glow to the eyes is any indication. Thace tallies that and a hundred other small details, preparing reports for Kolivan in the back of his mind.

The double tasking doesn't slow his other reactions, however, and Thace rises, movement fluid and appearing at ease. He's wearing local clothing, most definitely not any kind of armor, and aside from a dagger (he'd never ever be parted from his blade willingly), no weapons. But his bearing and stance is entirely a soldier, as is the crisp way he answers the question.

There is, however, at the edge of hearing, a low creak coming from nowhere in particular when he announces his rank. The sound of something stressed and about to break.]

Commander Thace. What is your command?

[zariconic]

Commander Thace. I don't know that name. Nonetheless, I appreciate your service as an officer.

[Thace does strike him as a fine soldier, going by his first impression. Of course, this Galra is beneath him in rank, as all Galra are, but he's nonetheless high-ranking and worthy of respect. Zarkon pauses. This isn't Daibazaal, and they aren't in the middle of a military operation. There is no ongoing operation to speak of. However, he can't bring himself to unbend enough to be casual or even informal, in the way that Alfor or Blaytz would be, in a similar circumstance.]

Take this, Commander.

[He hands Thace the clock. What else is he supposed to do with the clock, now that he's been saddled with it?]

I'm aware this is unorthodox. But I am carrying out a task for a member of the local community as a show of the empire's goodwill, and I require assistance.

[This is really much more like some distraction Alfor or Blaytz would get caught up in, and it annoys Zarkon slightly that he's the one caught up in it instead.]