Tati Gabrielle

wintersaurora​:

Sympathy and pity came to Aurora in droves, and if she’d had even half of the arrogant pride that she’d possessed only months before, it would have made her sick. Now she was too tired to care, too knowledgable of how easily it was to lose all of it - all of them. The last time something similar to this had happened to her, Aurora had spent so long cold and dead to then all but explode with vengeance towards Titania, spurred in that direction by Fen’harel and her own bubbling resentment and overwhelming grief. But she wouldn’t allow herself to make that mistake again. When her time to explode came, it would be in a rage directed rightfully to Ayi’ig. She could save it until then, let it fester in her chest as she went absently through the motions of surviving each day.

Robin’s appearance was reminiscent to her of Fen’harel, the other Autumn Chancellor that had come to her in concern for her well-being. How so much had changed. Aurora had been looking out at the Winter fey working on bringing down that ridiculous statue that Laer had encouraged them to put up. She’d probably have them store it in some cave. But now she turned her attention to Robin as she came up the steps and spoke. “Sure,” she replied softly. No joy but no annoyance either. It was inevitable that they spoke. “… Though I know you’re sorry for what happened and I appreciate any concern you might have, I would prefer not to dwell on my state right now. I promise you enough other people are caring.” 

...

Aurora’s permission is all she needs to walk to the other’s side and set the basket delicately by her side, occupying her hands on opening the cork. The movement pulls slightly at the new scar that occupies her stomach, but not enough for her to show any sign of pain. It has been long enough that the scar is almost fully healed, long enough that it will soon enough be nothing but a reminder of humanity’s worst. A reminder that trusting humans is a foolish endeavor and to believe on her instincts rather than on her whims. A reminder that as a Chancellor, her own desires do not matter, she must destroy anyone who wants to harm her people before they can attempt to do so.

“You have no idea how much I wish I could use sarcasm the human way right now,” Robin offers flatly as she uncorks the cider and hums a melody to create two glasses, filling them up with it and offering one to Aurora. “Are we not friends? Are we not fellow Chancellors? Do I not have the right to be concerned? Or do you not consider my concern as truthful as you would want because you only see me as Fen’harel’s failure of a replacement, Aurora?” The last question is asked flatly. All she had wanted was to ensure that her friend was alright, and yes, she understands the distress Aurora has suffered is unspeakable, but she has always been confrontational and the sense of betrayal is too fresh, the thought of her weakness too heavy, for her not to default into her old instincts. She regrets the words as soon as they leave her lips, though, and she sighs, a hand raising to rub her eyes tiredly. “Apologies, everyone is on edge right now, including me, but I should not have said that.”

"Is it a mimosa if it does not have orange juice or merely another cocktail?" She muses, expression airy and friendly as she walks closer next to the Winter Chancellor and snaking her hands around her arm, squeezing the muscle there reassuringly as she keeps to the other's pace. It is the other's season, even as their duties and domains of influence have changed, and she is more than willing to bend to Aurora's whims if it means she forgets her duties for one afternoon. It's what the other deserves, after all the heartache said duties had place upon her shoulders. "That, I can do. In exchange, would you indulge me in some gossiping?"

"Well, there's bound to be seasonal mimosas over there," Aurora offered, mustering a smile over. She wanted to be in a great mood despite things lingering below the surface. There was a lot to be thankful and happy about but a couple things still sobered Aurora joy, namely the deaths of her mother and Titania as well as her Warder's unrest. But in favor of the Solstice and all that was going well, the Lunar Chancellor visibly made an effort not to let anything weigh on her.

"Saturnalia Market it is. I think it's important to see what else the world has managed to invent with peppermint flavor... as long as we avoid politics for one night." It was an odd and uncharacteristic request from the business-orientated Chancellor. But if Aurora focused on the lovely celebrations she figured her mood would lift more and more.

Two lost souls 🖤🥀

assanx​:

-

“Tuna.” Please. Assan said as he folded his hands behind his head and walked forward with Robin at his side, head tilted towards the sun. It was so warm in Italy, especially with summer just around the corner. That suited Assan’s temperament perfectly since he was most fond of sleeping outside, sometimes under the stars, sometimes in a cat nap somewhere on a rooftop. Occasionally he slipped into another’s home and snagged their couch or their bed. Dungeons & Dragons were fun, the tiefling was clearly the most superior choice - getting everyone together was a hassle though and Assan never had the motivation. That was on Robin and Rawlins’ shoulders. There was something bothering him and it wasn’t any human with a gun, he’d come to Rome for a reason but everything he thought of just felt like so much work. He looked towards Robin from the corner of his eye, “Salmon?” Are they making you nervous?

...

“I do have a rather time consuming job, you know,” Robin says dryly at Assan’s dismissal. Planning meet ups had fallen upon the cambion’s shoulder, at the end, as any free time that Robin found herself having was devoted to personal projects or meets up with those she cared for. On occasion, she would help Rawlins with organizing, but with the forest closing it’s borders, it would be impossible for her to host unless it is on her apartments within Rome and she would rather those remained secret to most aside of Assan and a few others. At least for now. She shares a brief look with Assan at his question and inclines her head ever so slightly. “I have never found pleasure on their presence, and their overt displays of power do not bode well for Rome, now that they have been foolish enough to work with them.”

Rumors are a currency, both inside and outside the Eye. Rumors she had heard, regarding Aurora, Farenduil and a pair of faiman twins. Nothing concrete, but enough to pique her curiosity. Enough for it to rise without her permission, enough for her to be interested.  The rumors involved two of her dearest friends, after all, and she had always been one desperate to know more in hopes of using everything she has to protect those she cares. That is what draws her to the blonde faiman when she sees her, that and the tug of her gut urging her to go on.

“Perhaps,” she says with a nod, choosing for a direct approach rather than subtlety. “I am a friend of Farenduil and I only wanted to confirm if you were his child.”

@thegoodfellow​ location: royal wedding notes: one starter of robin being a snoop, as requested

The bar was fully loaded though she got a weird look when she asked for something without any blood in it. Considering the crowd, Emma imagined that was an uncommon request tonight. Still, tequila made its way towards her and the faiman tipped it to her lips and emptied it down. Aware only when it was gone that someone was hovering, Emma looked towards the eladrin and cocked a brow, “Can I help you with something?”

END

"Well that is concerning," she admits as her brows furrows when hearing about Nirvaan's current predicament. There is no doubt that Aurora will want to hear about that, the way she holds her warder dear. Biting her lip thoughtfully as she narrows her eyes, Robin nods to herself as she glances to Inan. "I shall find Laer, I might be running dry magic-wise but I have improved my physical combat skills. Please go to Aurora and tell her about Nirvaan," she says, then hesitates, before continuing, deciding that it is not the time to push. If Inan wants to hide behind his formalities, he shall have them fully. "Good Hunting, Warder Inan. Dar'eth Shiral."

TATI GABRIELLE ph. SHARUM+ARI for Fault Magazine (January 2020)

A sense of disgust and self-recrimination settles in the back of her throat every time she thinks of Lain. Their encounter had been inevitable, it had been a reminder. For all the lycan was fun and interesting, he was mortal as they come. Alive one moment, gone the next. A passing fancy that could not grow beyond that for the pure and simple truth of inevitable with death. She knows that it is inevitable that she will mourn him when his time comes, but she cannot love him. Not when his lifetime will be the blink of her eye, and she needs to ensure she is a source of steadiness for her people.

It is this truth that stays her hand, that keeps her from seeking Lain as soon as the war ends. But their encounter is not inevitable, so when her clairvoyance tells her of his attempt to contact her, Robin does nothing but sigh and follow the direction her magic takes her towards. She gets close enough to hear his attempt to manifest her from thin air, and she cannot help the giggle that echoes through the woods as she steps into the clearing that Lain had found himself in. Her brow is raised as she takes in the lycan, but she shows him her hand to show him that she is not going to attack.

"That is one way to summon me, dearest wolf," she mentions, fondness undercut by the quiet apology on her tone. "What would have happened if I had not been on my way to meet?"

For: @thegoodfellow

Where: The Forest, outskirts of Lupercal 

Notes: sorry I tried to kill you, can we still be friends at least? 

He had selfishly avoided this confrontation for weeks.  The elves were a capricious bunch, it was possible that Robin might decide to finish the job her changeling had started the moment she saw his face.  But it was worth a shot.  She deserved closure, as well as an apology for his actions.  As terrible as Lain saw himself, he drew the line at hurting the few people he cared about. Species that lacked the heightened sense of smell that lycans were gifted with could have easily gotten lost in the expanse of the wilderness, but Lain could easily visualize his own scent trail that would lead him back home.  He kept rehearsing what he was going to say to Dawn chancellor when he finally found her, but knew that there was no way he could articulate his feelings as perfectly as it all sounded in his head. “Robin!” The lycan called out, “I just want to talk!” He stopped walking, focusing on listening for the faint indicators of any signs of life that were not his own that the sound of the leaves crunching under his feet obscured. Lain could pick up on the quick thrumming of multiple heartbeats, but all of them sounded far too small to belong to anything humanoid sized.  Likely just a rabbit or a squirrel. Fuck, where was she?