InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "so you played me"

Luna Lovegood (nearlysane) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,
@ 2009-03-11 19:20:00

Entry tags:

arrival, cathal, complete, day two, luna lovegood

WHO: Luna & OTA!
WHAT: Luna is suddenly dropped in another world, and shall we say, surprised.
WHEN: Day 2, mid-afternoon
WHERE: Le Ren Faire
WARNINGS: A strong G for now, but who knows. Luna can be blunt and we have some characters here that make things go up just by existing.
STATUS: Complete

If someone had told Luna Lovegood that today, she would be picked up from her world and plopped down in another...well, she probably would have went to pack. But the point was, no one had warned her of such a thing, she hadn't had time to pack, and such a thing surprised her. Greatly, in fact. Not that she wasn't entirely used to being surprised, or teleporting to places, it was more the unexpectedly part that got her. It was just entirely rude. They could have at least scheduled a day.

Just a few moments ago she had been sitting and doing edits on her newest article, and poof! Like she'd touched a portkey! Down down down into the black, and suddenly she was standing in the middle of what looked like a medieval fair. Now. She really didn't mind so much, the fact that she was there. There were women in pretty dresses and plenty of food. But when you put someone in a costume party, you should give them notice! She could understand not wanting invitations to be caught by wrigglypiffs, but really. She would have changed! Here she was, in neon orange and green pyjamas (that were quite nice, by her standards, even if they were slightly blinding), when she could have been all dressed up.

And so, Luna was a little bit miffed. Her lips pressed together, and her eyebrows creased, and she looked not at all pleased. However, it wasn't about what most people would be mad about if they were dropped into an entirely different world. But, then again, Luna wasn't most people. Not at all.

Then, she saw other people not dressed up. This, in fact perturbed her even more. Did they not realize that they really should have been wearing costumes? Or had the host brought them all here, and not told a single one of them to dress up? She picked one, and, smiling kindly, asked, "Were you not told about the costumes either?"

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illusional
2009-03-11 09:47 pm UTC (link)

After the fiasco of yesterday, of being brought to this strange land among even stranger people and having no idea how to get home, Cathal had no hope for today. He hadn't exactly slept well in the strange bed. Mostly because he was used to sleeping on the ground, or on straw pallets. The bed, while not top notch by any stretch of the imagination, had been too soft. After several hours of tossing and turning, he'd taken the covers from the bed and arranged them on the floor where he slept for the duration of the darkness outside.

He'd woken with the sun and decided that being stuck in that strange room was a lot like the room he'd escaped from in his father's kingdom. Too much so, in fact. He dressed in the usual clothes, after finding, to his surprise that he had a closet and dresser full of clean clothes. It bothered him, but that didn't mean he had to go about looking like a forest rat. Leather breeches, a tunic and some boots were all he needed. And his cloak. It was currently pinned at his throat, and while he walked it billowed out behind him.

He found food while he was walking around, investigating things. It tasted fine enough and there wasn't any poison in it that he could tell. So no one wanted him dead, at least. That was good. Mostly. If he was dead he wouldn't have the horrible ache in his heart for Clodagh, now would he? He sighed and stood with his arms crossed watching two men fight with swords. He was quite certain he could have bested either of them and was contemplating entering the arena and challenging one... or both.

Before he could do anything, however, he caught the brightest, most horrid colors imaginable out of the corner of his eye. He glanced at them quickly and then away just as quickly. It hurt his eyes to look at them too long, and he hadn't even noticed that they were draped on a girl. He heard a voice, but so many people were talking already that he didn't even know he was being addressed. But, when he looked down, she was looking at him. He frowned, but managed to look amused at the same time. "Uh, what costumes?" He had to look at her face because to look at her clothes would mean blindness, he was sure of it. "You mean like the one you're wearing?"

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nearlysane
2009-03-13 09:29 pm UTC (link)

Luna was, as usual, completely oblivious to the fact that he was attempting to not be blinded. Rather, it seemed only polite for him to be looking at her face, and she smiled. Then, she saw his frown, and blinked. She looked down, examining her clothes intently, and then back up to him. "This isn't a costume."

Her hair swung slightly as she tilted her head to the side. "These are pyjamas. Not a costume. Unless this is actually a pyjama party? Then you're all ill-dressed!" She glanced around again, and then leaned in, as if communicating a secret. "And ill-equipped. An essential accessory for pyjama parties is a stuffy. And you don't seem to have one."

She blinked, thinking a moment. "Unless you lost yours?" This could very possibly be the case, after all. "Or it got stolen?" Some people were cruel, and liked to steal stuffies, after all. "Or it's very small?" Now she was looking him over, trying to figure out where he could hide a small stuffed animal.

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illusional
2009-03-15 07:17 pm UTC (link)

His brow lifted, lips pursed together. "Really. Huh." Cathal wasn't familiar with the word she used, but the pajamas looked like a costume to him. They were far too bright to be anything else. What normal person wore clothes so angrily bright? It would be impossible to hide if he wore something like that. And often, his life depended on keeping hidden.

He frowned and shook his head. "I am certain this is no party. And I have no idea what a stuffy is." He was growing more annoyed by the minute. She was altogether too cheerful for the current situation. "No, I don't think I have one of these stuffies. And if I did, it wouldn't be lost, stolen or too small." He frowned at her and wished she would just stop talking.

He was wearing period clothing, a poets shirt, leather trousers and a cloak that had all manner of trinkets sewn into the lining. A lock of hair, a pebble, a feather, a twig, a broken piece of pottery, and a rowan cross of red, among other things. His hood was up, hiding the majority of his face, but the tattoos that marked the fox around his eyes and forehead could be seen. He was used to strange looks because of it, and hardly noticed them anymore. The only thing was, where he came from, people knew what they meant.

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