Who? @springlia Where? The Memorial Pathway

Her presence on the Winter Solstice chiding is not required, but she can read between the lines and knows how highly encouraged it is. The Courts need to believe that there is nothing wrong, they need to believe the Chancellors are calm and carefree. Robin can act the part, but truly, her eyes keep flitting around the crowd, looking out for any attack or any of the sort. Despite her worry, Mery’s presence is more than welcomed. It’s been months, but it is always a relief to see him whole and hearty after Halloween. A smile on her lips, she reaches out with one hand and gives him a half hug before looking down at his drink with curiosity.

“What did you get? I haven’t gotten around to get anything just yet,” she says idly, eyes flickering around the crowd once more before returning to Mery as she grimaces. “Please, don’t say the p-word. I think I am going to pavlov train myself to gag at it by accident. It’s interesting and all but there is so much of it.”

@thegoodfellow​

Mery had only recently left the Spring Court for the party, and while he was usually in high spirits, his anxiety was through the roof at the moment. It wasn’t until he spotted a familiar face that some of it relented, and the eladrin weaved his way through the crowd untouched and unseen until he was in front of Robin with a smile on his face. “Cheers? I found a drink finally, and it’s not near as good as what I could make back home, but it’ll do for our mini celebration of your promotion. Enjoy the paperwork. I hear it’s magical but still not that fun.”

"That is a relief," she sighs quietly, one hand raising to rub the bridge of her nose as a weight leaves her shoulder's at the admission of Tamlen's continued existence. With the weight gone, it is far easier to feel her exhaustion, the magic well that seemed endless running low. "I sent Inan to seek Aurora out, but I can go meet them and try to find Zahrya so that we are all in one place once you have fetched Tamlen." It's not ideal, to separate while weak and depleted, but it is necessary. And even with her reserves running low, she has been training under Rainer's tutelage for long enough that most of her previous flaws when fighting had been smoothed out. "Or do you have another plan?"

Laer stood, he hadn't felt this depleted in ages. Was this what mortality felt like? So sad, it made him feel even worse for these creatures. "I felt Tamlen's head get snapped off before he died." Laer rubbed at his jaw, "Fortunately he'll be fine." He placed his hands upon his hips as he gazed out across the city, in the far distance he saw the Pyramid and through his bond he sensed the celestial's presence there. "Already I can feel his magic returning to me and restoring my reserves." Laer looked around and some distance away he saw blue flames and explosions of cold and lightning. "Well," he pointed, "that'd be our Aurora. We'll have to reconvene once I fetch Tamlen, we'll reunited our bodies then." Zahrya had been surprisingly tight.

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.”

vincenzodives​:

There was a part of him that was so confused by the situation he found himself in. This place was nice on standards he could never even understand. Vinny was sure the best place he had ever rested his head in was a hotel when he first got to Rome. Now here was Robin offering him a place to stay. She had mentioned it being a place she could go to, a safe space. It kind of made him feel like he was intruding on something. When he had woken up, her presence was very much known in the place. He had come to expect it. What he hadn’t expected was to be asked for his opinion on a makeup palette. All he had ever put on was eyeliner so he couldn’t even begin to figure out why she would want his opinion.

Nevertheless, he walked further into the room, his hands in his pockets as he sat down in the nearest seat. One left their spot and picked up the palette she was using. Definitely brighter than the usual black he felt like they both seemed to wear all the time. “Are you not sure about it? I think it looks good,” he stated as he leaned in closer to get a better look.

“The colors are pleasant enough, and reminiscent of the very fall I represent, but it is rather different to my usual so confirmation is always pleasant,” she confirms as she sets the brush aside and takes a moment more to ensure she had not smudged anything. As she does, an idea sparks and her lips tilt in the slightest hints of mischief. Quick hands reach for the orange lipstick and she applies it deftly, and with the explicit goal of getting it smudged before it’s final application. Once done, she sets the lipstick back in place and turns to face Vinny, brown eyes considering as she approaches until his knees are brushing her bare legs and leans forward, a hand falling on his shoulder to remain somewhat balanced.

Once their faces are mere inches apart, she flutters her eyelids and smiles like a predator about to pounce.

“I do appreciate the palette, but I want to make sure, do you believe it looks good on me, dearest?” She croons in question, as she leans even closer, close enough for their noses to brush, so that all he can see is her.

wadecalhoun​:

          Wade had garnered apprehension over this puerile and fanatical idea the entire night it had been concocted. He’d had his own passions and desires for destroying certain species but had learned, over time from Robin, how the fey had merely wished to live unbothered by society; integrated but never harmed. Theneras’ provocation, their senseless violence against Rome had pulled the trigger and sent a frenzied outlook onto Rome. A zealous approach from hunters who hungered for blood and destruction, intent on blind chaos rather than a pragmatic approach between the blurred lines of those who inflicted harm and those who projected peace. He already flinches as Robin’s wounded visage comes into view, averts his gaze as hands grab a hold of her.

These people, the Eye, are meant to be who he swears a blind allegiance to, but his motives have never been entrenched in mindlessly following a crowd. His story was a simple one, drowned in the blood of innocents, his lifestyle a collateral of the pain inflicted upon him. His family was murdered by a demon, destroyed from the inside out and it was within his due diligence to make that pain matter. Robin had approached him so compassionately when he’d come at her blindly with a knife all those years ago. She may have laughed in his face, defended herself, but she had come to teach him the nuances of species and he had to be grateful to her that Wade had merely survived so long based on her teachings.

Before Robin, Wade had been all ire and sinew; inflicting blind rage on demons and witches; sometimes species who likely weren’t either being caught up in his destructive path. She may not have realized she had honed in his abilities, made him a more adept hunter. He used to be able to brunt the injuries, smile through the stab wounds or vampire bites, broken bones and bloodied noses. Now, he’d learned to avoid them, play into the advantages he’d learned from Robin.

Wade clears his throat as the gaggle of Eye hunters he’d surrounded himself with make a mockery of Robin, laugh in her face. “Maybe she’s right, we dunno what waits inside.“ It’s a pathetic attempt to get them to quit while they’re ahead. The Forest will not welcome strangers and they reside on the border, Robin now a victim to their senseless games. They’re hardly listening to Wade, he’s never been a commanding authority figure and Wade takes a cowardly step back, merely overwhelmed, as he hears the flick of an iron switchblade.

...

Eight paltry words. That is what years of friendship had bought her, that is what the countless times she had saved his life had bought her. Eight fucking words. Eight words he hadn’t even meant. There is no attempt to command his fellow hunters, tension on his shoulders as he prepares to help her. Nothing but eight weakly said words said before stepping back and leaving her to the mercy of a crowd of merciless hunters. Now, more than ever, she understands Zahrya’s hate for humanity, for their weak hearts and loyalties. Now, more than ever, wishes she could keep that hate on her heart, but even now it fades as she looks at Wade an all she can feel is all encompassing grief.

She had thought — She had thought they were friends, she loves him as one. Loves him enough to make him a healing artifact, loves him enough to grant him passage unto their last defense, their last asylum, loves him enough to return to him time and time again to ensure he has been safe, that he was alright. Love and loyalty given freely over the years, because she has a kind heart that only wants to give, and yet all she has gotten as repayment is what? Empty promises to help with the drows, an infiltration when her kind is near extinction and nothing but eight fucking words to try and stop the hunters he has guided into her home.

Robin’s grief is so, that she fails to hear the iron switchblade, fails to see as it is aimed as her as she keeps her betrayed stare at Wade. Fails to do anything but to double in pain as it’s used to gut her as she screams at the searing pain trailing behind the blade. She doesn’t collapse unto herself, as she wishes, doesn’t wail aside from the first scream, keeping herself locked in place as she hears the distant echo of changelings and lycans approaching to hunt for trespassers and makes the decision to give her former friend one last kindness. Eyes raising up to meet Wade as she feels her blood leave her, she gives him a grim, sardonic smile.

“Run, Red Riding Hood, before the wolves and our protectors get you for this, run,” she says, words sharp and painful, coming out as a threat to those who do not know her, but as a warning meant to reach Wade’s ears and his ears alone.

Survive so that you can leave with your choices, traitor.

"Exactly as in William Shakespeare," Robin says in delight at Lain's reaction. It is a true pleasure to be able to lord this bit of information over the head of someone who does not know about it. Assan is well aware of her outings, and most within the courts at least suspect of her mischief regarding that particular British copy. "You have heard of the most charming Puck, also known as Robin Goodfellow, have you not?" She asks with a smirk as she returns the kiss with an equal enthusiasm, delighted by Lain's initiative. "Me, indeed, in whatever way you desire. Your performance was rather wondrous, after all, and you surely deserve to be rewarded as you please."

He was still coming down from the high that came with live performances, red wine still dripping down his body from where Lucas had forced him to down a whole glass on stage, resulting in the death of Claudius. Lain had a huge smile on his face as Robin took him by necklace he was wearing and led him away from view.  Her kiss grounded him, the feeling that he was currently floating outside his own body fading away. “William?  As in the William Shakespeare?” Lain asked incredulously before chuckling, “I always assumed he was actually a bunch of people all writing under the same pen name.”  He leaned in to kiss her again, full of enthusiasm and lacking the self-doubting hesitation that usually proceeded his touches. “So what’s my reward? Is it you?” 

"Me," she purrs in agreement, and in a fit of mischief, she stands once more and stalks closer to the wandering fey whose dashing rescue had featured in countless daydreams and wet dreams as well. A slow languid smile graces her lips as she moves, movements feline and predatorial as she approaches the woman she owes a life debt to. Carefully, gently, she raises her hand to place a single finger beneath the other's chin and raises her head just enough so that she can meet her eyes. There is still something ancient and predatory within her eyes— it belongs there after her confirmation as Chancellor and she will not get rid of it — but there is warmth as well, as recognition flickers once more and she finally gets the privilege of drinking in the delicate features adorning the other's face. "I did not get the honor of admiring your beauty, back when you saved me, but now that I have? I can say without a doubt that there was no better high elf to play the role of dashing saviour."

There is something playful to her tone as she speaks, breath fanning over the others cheekbones as she memorizes the depth of her eyes. Then and only then, Robin steps back, breaking the electrifying tension between the two of them as she sits on the edge of her desk and places her hands to her sides.

"Of course I remember, darling. I owe you a life debt, and I am not one to forget that," she informs her, amusement clear even as she makes herself as transparent as possible. "I assume you have a request, if you asked me here in the middle of festivities. In honor to the aforementioned life debt, as long as it is on my hands and it will bring no harm to my people, I will consider fulfilling it."

Thank the Gods the Chancellor was understanding, hopefully as welcoming as the Lunar Chancellor had been to her sibling. But her train of thought abruptly derailed as the cadence of the woman's voice finally hit Hesperia and filled her with a sense of familiarity. Hesperia looked up, straightening slowly as the Chancellor gestured for her to stand. But her eyes and her concentration centered on the familiarity of her face, no longer obscured so much by the dark and gloom of the Otherworld.

It was a fleeting moment, one of darkness and chaos that had enveloped them both. Hesperia was practiced in evasion and hiding, an expert in caring for herself and for her sibling in the worst parts of the Otherworld. There were moments, however, when the path was made clear to her and she knew it would be a particularly difficult one. The Tranquil would be left bound, silent and hidden in a place Hesperia that picked out and enchanted for brief periods of time while the autumn fey went on to scout the trail. Monsters would be dispatched or their presense noted so she could avoid them with her sibling. On one of those very scouting nights she remembered the sensation of nearby fey magic, something she hadn't felt in so long. Hesperia avoided confrontation with the creatures of the Otherworld, if only because she was often not strong enough to dispatch them on her own. So she knew how to evade them but clearly this other fey hadn't been so knowing or so lucky. Hesperia remembered following the trail of bodies left behind of other creatures when finally the sight of her fellow fey came to view, a noble exhausted to the end of her energy by the creatures that had kept finding her.

"You," she blurts out before she could stop herself. What happened to her decorum? Far too long spent away from the Court of the fey. Hesperia's gaze falters with embarrassment from the outburst before she looks back up at Chancellor Robin. "I- I've seen you once, Chancellor. I don't know if you remember... The circumstances weren't ideal."

“What is the drink’s name, darling? I might have tried it, although if it was created recently maybe not. I have been going down the list of Cocktails with Dirty Names over the last year to see how they all taste,” she admits with a shrug, eyeing the brightly pigmented drink with curiosity. She did like sweet things, after all, maybe she should try one. As fun as it is to try out new cocktails, though, she is rather disappointed that the Senator had failed to acquire fey liquor for the occasion. Such poor hosting manners from the vampire. “Have you tried shots? I am sure if we do enough  of those we might get to feel buzzed.”

           @senatusstarters​, open,

          “Have you had one? They’re marvelous,” she’s holding a ridiculously pigmented beverage; it’s almost a fluorescent pink accented by baby blues. It’s not something the Senator had on the menu but it’s certainly something Siofra cannot get enough of, the alcohol hardly up to par with that you could find in the Otherworld, but they’re delighted all the same. “I believe I’ve what is called a sugar rush, but perhaps if I drink enough I’ll be drunk off my ass like the rest of you,” she’d heard the term uttered to one inebriated party goer and had pocketed the term for future use; which was now.

assanx​:

-

Sometimes, most of the time, Assan just wished everything was easier. It was so troublesome to have to do everything himself when all he really wanted to do was find a nice soft bed somewhere and lay down. It wasn’t easy to make Assan feel uncomfortable, and the military presence within the city wasn’t really capable of pulling it off, but he didn’t like that they were bothering Robin. If she wanted he’d help her but getting the demigod to do anything always involved some form of bribery, he only managed to make it through several hours of D&D because there were always snacks and soda there. Sweet, sweet soda. A discontented sigh brought his gaze up towards the sky, idly the demigod wondered what was waiting for them on the horizon. “Tuna.” was all he said.

...

“Consider the bright side,” Robin says with a grin as she eyes Assan. “More sessions means more free food for you.” She doesn’t mind providing the money for the goodies, not when the sessions are one of the bright spots at the moment. All work and no play makes her a dull fey, and although she is taking her duties rather more seriously than she had ever taken anything else, bar a few exceptions such as her time with the Robin Hood crew. “A good question,” she sighs out as her grin drops and she eyes Assan first and then their surroundings. “I can’t really say what is coming, but we all can guess that is something big. As such, please do try to be careful, I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”