Latest Posts by thegoodfellow - Page 3
who? @wintersaurora @zahryaofspring @chancellorxlaer where? rome when? after the power rangers depowered notes: not a four way dw, it's just a general open for the three of you
"There you are," a sigh of relief leaves her lips as she reaches her fellow Chancellor. Inan had given her an overview of the situation, but their plan has been set and they require the Titan's strength to continue. Tamlen's death is a tragedy, and she worries they won't be able to continue without him, worries that Thanatos cancelling death will not apply to their kind and they have lost yet another one individual. But she cannot think like that, not when every minute is essential and she has to find the other Chancellors in order to determine if they can proceed as planned or adjust. "Do you know where the others fell?"
Magic has always been a second thought, the swell of it coming to her aid without hesitation or thought. Rarely has she used as extensively as she does in battle, and rarely has she been left with nothing but the dredges of it after a spell. But the Titan is no ordinary spell, and her magic is not limitless. The thought tastes bitter as she feels Tamlen's death and falls. There is no enough to gather the dredges to stop her descent before Inan catches her, and Robin does not even try, trusting her warder to accomplish his duty. As they descent unto the roof, Robin eyes their surroundings thoughtfully and notes the direction the other Chancellors fell. She will have to rejoin them sooner rather than later. "Exhausted, but that will not stop me," she admits with a thankful nod as she stands and stretches for the first time in days. "My thanks for the rescue, my dashing knight. But do drop the title, it's altogether too stuffy and I have never been one for pomp."
@thegoodfellow location: Rome notes: warder things
Everyone connected to Tamlen felt the sudden severance of his life. Sharp and swift. Time was all but an illusion to the fey, they'd been at it for days, but moments later the Titan began to glow, then broke apart as the chancellors were scattered. The well of magic he'd had access to gone, Inan still had his own, and even without it that would not have stopped him from coming to Robin's aid. She fell and the warder lept to catch her before he landed with the soft footfalls on the opposite rooftop, the chancellor in his arms. Around them the city was in flames, the streets were a butchery, and the sky was an obsidian night. Cloudless. Starless. There was just the drow above them. Inan set her down on her feet, "Are you alright my lady?"
"Now that is an understatement," Robin mentions with a snort, eyes falling away from the tower and upon Aurora. There is no denying that the magic surrounding her had changed drastically, that there is a difference on her bearing born both from that change and whatever she had faced in the Otherworld, but she can still see one of her oldest friends on her face. "Don't tell me the frost got your tongue? You are usually far wordier on these matters," she teases, before pausing. "If it is a matter of the Winter Court and not for my ears, I shall understand."
There is a pause, as Robin deliberates on Aurora's words, lips pressed together as she is considering her response. The matters of the Holt are not to be shared with outsiders, and speaking of the most unpleasant abilities the Fall provides— specifically if bolstered by the Holt's approval — should only be kept behind close doors, on a meeting with all the Chancellors so that she might not repeat herself.
"Certain cogs have been set in place, and the result is operating smoothly," she says with a simple shrug. "Any other information on that matter, is to be left to be discussing behind closed doors and in presence of the other Chancellors and the King."
"If you mean the change within me..." There were elves all over the Otherworld, all sorts. But the Lunar Elves had gone extinct, the last remnants of her ancestors swirling in song within the White Flame. Even Davhiera, elven in his own way and once fellow winter eladrin, felt different. There were many words for how she felt in her skin: proud that her ancestors had felt her worthy in any sense, thankful to be alive, curious to this newfound strength. But lonely and confused too. More conflicting emotions too odd and difficult to explain. "Strange," Aurora instead summarized.
She looked to Robin beside her. When once they were friends, even brief lovers, being more carefree juveniles felt like a lifetime ago. Fellow Chancellors couldn't be just friends, not with business and warcraft lingering over their heads at every given moment. "Autumn has come." As such, the Autumn fey would be at their strongest and essential to the fight, even more essential now because half of the mission had failed. While the tropes had brought back power, they hadn't any of the allies that they'd sorely needed to win. "How ready are we?"
"Nothing more than what you have already willingly given: an introduction and the pleasure of your company," Robin says with a snort, bringing the goblet on her hand to her lips and taking a deep sip from her spiked cider, eyes calm as she takes in the god before her, wondering how he would take her response. "I will not deny that your help would be a boon, but I did not call you here to ask for it. It is not my place to demand for it, particularly not when you are on a vacation at this point in time."
She is not idiotic enough to demand help from a god, specially not the god before her, known for his neutrality. That would be both an insult to her intelligence and one to his character, to believe something as simple as an invitation would convince him to change his mind on an stance that he had kept for far longer she has been alive.
"In reality, I am rather curious about you, now that I have been accepted by the Holt and experienced entropy by myself," she admits with a shrug and take s a deep breath.
Next year, that would have been funny if it weren't so sad. Undoubtedly the chancellor's heart was in the right place, but if he had to ask for an invitation then clearly he wasn't welcome. No, no, he'd already made up his mind: these fey still hated him even after everything that he had done. His family never invited him to reunions either back in the day, not a feast or a single celebration. There was something to be said about not leaving the door open for Death. "Noble creatures," Thanatos said in short after Robin was done licking his boot, cat sidhe were quite particular, they chose nine people to follow before joining them in eterna. So brave, though nobody ever really owned them.
"I'm never summoned for pleasantries," Thanatos admitted, his candour still stifling and unchanged, "you're respectful, I'll give you that, much more than the rest of the inhabitants of Rome. My patience runs deep, but it does have an end; I can only assume that you want something from me." He took a bite of the biscuit he'd been lovingly fixing, delicious, though his features were stilled just the same. Washed down with some mead, beer was more to his taste but he didn't expect the chancellor to know that.
Autumn is in the air, the spores tethering themselves into body and brick alike. It is a relief to have a clear sign that her plans had taken root, that her time spent studying under the elders and the Wisdom Daimona had been worth their while, even if it had meant ignoring the world outside the forest. A world that she no longer feels responsible for saving, not when she needs to focus on her people first. The Lupo pack is moving, so the Eye should be taken care of, which means that the Courts must turn their eyes towards the Drow.
At the same time, she cannot just move without consulting the Elders. Not without documenting her every action to provide a sense of accountability for herself, a paper trail for others to go through if there was ever a doubt of her allegiances. Fen'harel's legacy loomed over her, their shadow as dark as the magic of Lloth's priests. The legacy of thousands of years of lies cannot be erased easily, and she is the one left to hold the weight of an embittered people.
"Inan," Robin welcomes warmly as he steps into the alcove of the Chancellor's Estate, glad to see him returned from a self-imposed exile that the Elders had not thought he deserved. His words settle heavily over her shoulders as the implications dawn on her. Head tilting to the side in consideration, Robin smiles kindly and steps forward, one finger settling under his chin to keep his gaze on her. "As my warder, or my watcher? I am aware that the council would like the later, and I do not begrudge them for it, but I would appreciate your honesty."
@thegoodfellow location: Autumn's Fields, Chancellor's Estate notes: idk when this takes place but I would like it to be when he becomes her warder thanks
Fall's fields were a pale shadow when compared to what they'd held in the Otherworld, but in every corner there was the essence of those hoping to rebuild. Their kind were used to preparation and to anticipation, often their place to look ahead at the coming and cold and understand what had to be done. Forethought in action as Inan wandered with a characteristic autumnal breeze at his back; his presence was light and deceiving, weak magic bolstered few environmental effects but Inan had never cared to be as flashy as some of the others.
Robin's presentation at the Equinox denoted her ascension, maybe undetectable to some but he remembered who she'd been before the Council had tapped her, and he felt the difference now. The myriad shift of small magic that was pronounced among them, spores and rot that were too small to see but for fey of their court who'd trained for so long, it could be felt. She had changed, but time would tell if it would be for the better.
Inan landed on a knee, his head bent towards her as he crossed an arm across his chest. "Chancellor," he should have been here sooner, months ago, but he was here now. He'd sworn the words before, he would gladly do it again, but he would do better this time. Blue eyes shifted from the ground at Robin's feet towards her features, "I was summoned by the Elder Council, if you'll have me, my sword is at your side."
TATI GABRIELLE ph. Ben Cope Spaghetti Magazine, February 2021
"It is a pleasure to be graced by your presence, Ruler of the Nine Bows," Robin says with an inclination of her head to defer respect. He is not her King, but she does revere his role on the cycle of life so she gives him more respect than she affords to most other Aspects wandering across Rome. "I do apologize, as I had not been confirmed by the Holt and there were no Royal fey conscious at the time, I did not see fit to invite individuals that had not previously sworn to the crown. I would not wanted to offend at the implication that you needed to vow loyalty for an invitation, but I assure you that next year you shall be welcome to our festivities," she assures him voice calm and understanding. It had been rather dissatisfying, to have such a small autumn solstice, but she had thought it prudent not to invite anyone to the Forest without a King to maintain the barriers. "If the Courts survive what it is to come, I assure you that you will always you have a place at my table. I will even endeavor to convince the other Chancellor's to invite you to their festivities."
It is a rather long shot and she doesn't expect anything out of it, as she is not attempting to convince him of anything, merely being honest about her desire to encourage his continued presence in her life and her court.
A quick laugh escapes her lips and Robin shrugs.
"Unfortunately yes, but I am considering trying to invite Mery for the next dinner in hopes he will convince his cat sidhe to come with him," she admits with a glimmer of amusement on her eyes.
It was so nice to be welcomed, usually when people summoned him it was either because they wanted something, or because they were trying to trick him or trap him. Thanatos didn't want to get into Sisyphus, that man had it all coming. Worse. The audacity, nobody got to cancel death but Death.
"Chancellor." Thanatos greeted, she missed several dozen of his epithets but the effort was there and he could appreciate everything that had been laid before him. There was often confusion on his preferences, violent sacrifices and murder weren't to his taste: quite the opposite, he preferred a peaceful end to a brutal one. The natural course as it was often intended. "I couldn't help but notice my invite to your equinox festivities was absent," so insulting, but it was fine he was used to it. He sat and plucked a biscuit, opening it and spreading it with honey: what a delight. Quite thoughtful, Thanatos was pleased though his demeanour wouldn't have revealed as much. "Is it just us this evening?" He glanced towards the canine sprite, not even a single cat present.
who? @wintersaurora where? outside the tower of the white flame, winter's mountains
Robin stands before the Tower of the White Flame, admiring the work of Aurora's recovered song, as well as the bright shining light emitting from within. It is a marvel, to see something from legends made reality, and in a way, she does envy the Chancellor. She had traveled the Otherworld for 300 years, but never made it as far as they had, had not witnessed the marvels than that troupe had. In a way, though, she had been lucky to avoid the dangers that they had accomplished. Deep upon her musings as she is, it is not enough to erase her awareness of her surroundings, and she senses the presence of the Winter Chancellor's before she sees it.
"Impressive," Robin says with a hum as she keeps her eyes on the building, rather than on the newly minted lunar elf. "How does it feel? The change?"
who? @springlia where? the memorial pathway
One step after the other, the sound resonating all around her as she makes her way through the Memorial Pathway with quiet reflection. The month of planning had been worth it, the hours spent learning from the elders and the daimona leaving their mark on her psyche and her confidence. Robin feels more like herself than she has ever felt, settled into her skin now that there is no hesitation with her step. It's a pleasant yet odd feeling, and she had taken to the pathway to meditate upon it. Despite it all, she did not expect to see the spring fey on her path. Their situation had driven Robin to learn the names and faces of all the survivors, so she knows the name of the fey before her. A former exile, now resworn to the courts.
"If I recall correctly, you were invited to the solstice," she muses as she steps closer to settle at her side. "Did we have the pleasure of hosting you?"
"Well, I hope that you have found some peace in your travels. The gods know that I did as I transversed the Otherworld," Robin comments kindly as she steps back from his embrace, missing the lingering warmth already. "I realize you have had a difficult time, even aside the Court Politics," funnily enough, she does not remember the troubles, merely that they are some. "So I am here for anything you need, truly. It is my duty, and my pleasure, to ensure your safety and happiness." Her expression remains vacantly pleasant when he asks for the others, the magic from the satyr's preventing the truth from spilling forth from her lips as she does not remember the truth. "Things are quiet, what with Yavie and Farenduil having joined the troupe, but aside from that, the others are well."
Pure melancholy overcame him. Today's festivities weren't normal. Sure, nothing within Rome really was, but a part of him remained cautious. Some of his cautiousness faded while he was with Robin, however. Knowing she was save and well meant more to him than any suspicions. He'd have to investigate on a later date. "I'm so glad to hear that," he removed himself from her then, though both his hands remained on her shoulders. "I feel... fine. I do. I've been here and there for the most part," all vague answers to questions that prompted a more detailed answer. An answer he wasn't willing to give just yet, "things have been complicated, to say the least. I just had to go," the last sentence was a mere whisper, with Rhovanor choking on his own tears. His face remained somewhat stoic as he fought with his emotions. "How are the others? I hope everyone's doing well, even without me. Because.. you need to move on."
"Good," Robin purrs, content on the confirmation. Another piece falling into piece, another siren to lure the unwitting sailor down to the depths. A hard job for the wolf before her perhaps, but one that must be done. She, herself, already has second thoughts about the whole matter, but war demands sacrifice, and her desire to destroy the Eye and get revenge for her brother had not diminished through the years. Instead, it had grown stronger, the rage too powerful to be contained the longer it goes unaddressed. "It will be my pleasure to work with you, Miss Titus. I will be keeping in touch, but if you are ever in need of my services, do not hesitate to find me in the Autumn's Field."
END
thegoodfellow:
“Splendid. I will work on this misdirection on my part too, but please do be subtle. Wade might not be the sharpest tool in the box but he is not an idiot either.” At least not most of the time, and she cannot risk such a fruitful connection into the Eye to be alerted that he is being used. The hunter had made his bed and then believed a mere apology would be enough to brush it all aside when he would never forgive the creature that had destroyed his family. “He has to believe that he has been forgiven, so that he doesn’t suspect anything we do. For that, if you currently have a good relationship with him, you might need to maintain it. Can you do that? Can you lie to him?”
It’s an intimating question as they carried on their affair under a cover of oblivion until the obvious couldn’t be ignored any longer and it fell apart from there. Love had never been involved but it had been a connection of some sort of intimacy and Flora had always been a compassionate, empathetic person so to look someone in the eyes that she cared for and to lead them into the jaws of a trap was a dangerous game but she was with the wolves and the war wouldn’t go away quietly. She had to do horrible things in order to survive and protect her pack. “I’ll do it, whatever it takes. I won’t allow my pack to be snuffed out and to live in metal cages for the rest of their days. It’s for the greater good.”
who? @thanatcsx where? Robin's residence, the Autumn Fields
Before her lays a lavish table, offerings weighting upon it, each more delicious than the last. A feast fit for a king, a welcome fit for a god. The rumors are true, she has found, Death walks amongst Roman and countrymen. After her acceptance by the Múkēs Holt, her council had advised her to reach out to the ancient being, the one that had been spotted amidst the satyr's sordid festivities. With how her domain of influence bowed to his, she could not deny the wisdom on the advice, not when rot and decay followed Death and fed on the corpses of those He collected. She would be remiss not to make contact, and truly, she was rather interested on meeting the god as it is. Leaning back against her seat, Robin gives the table set for the two of them critically, smiling as Genise makes her presence known from the fireplace where she slumbers.
Homely, yet dignified. It is not a feast on the level of Antiquity, but that can come later. For now, she merely wants to introduce herself to the god, merely wants to give him the awareness of her acceptance into her role and what it meant.
"Master of Secrets, Lord of the Sacred Lands, Inpu," Robin's voice resonate as she swirls the goblet on her hand. "Death, I welcome you upon my Autumn's Fields, upon my hearth. I invite you to join me on consuming the fruits of my courts labor. Step into my home, and enjoy my hospitality, He Who Is In The Place of Embalming, my table has been laid for you."
who? @yaviefey where? the last bean notes: they are getting some pumpkin spice lattes <3
"I must thank you for your presence at the festivities," Robin nods at the former Autumn Fey as she approaches the table he has taken for himself. She had heard of the change, the Council of Elders whispering legends of Astral elf and what it meant for Yavie the change, but she had not believed them until her eyes had fallen upon him on the festivities and she had not found the call of Autumn on him. It is a loss keenly felt, but not as much as that of Farenduil, for Yavie remains untouched by mortality in the same Farenduil has been infected. "I had assumed that you would take the opportunity that make a proper clean break, and truly, I would not have blamed you for it."
Unlike so many, Robin had been lucky. Fen'harel had never attempted to sink their claws on her, her apparent foolishness and lack of presence within the Autumn Court as she traveled through the Otherworld keeping her out of the realm of influence of the Dread Wolf. Many of the others had not the luck, and she did not blame the resentment that had festered on them, seeded by the traitors hand.
"Do tell, was it to your liking?"
who? @farenduil where? farenduil's place when? after the autumn solstice
After the answering the call of the Wild, the door before her should mean nothing. It does not lead to an end, nor towards any sort of physical agony of the sort, and yet it is a looming creature she almost does not want to confront. Yet, what sort of Chancellor would she be if she were to allow a mere conversation to scare her off with her tail between her legs? A sigh leaves her lips as she raises her hand to knock on Farenduil's door, a second basket of the Autumn's Harvest floating next to her. With his change, she had not felt it safe for him to be welcomed to the yearly festivities, and yet his lack of presence had been painful. The least she could do is to offer more of the Harvest to ensure he knew that he was still welcomed to peruse the fields, even if they could no longer be his home.
"Do open, Farenduil, we have far too much to discuss," Robin calls through the door, even as she plucks one of the apples from the floating basket and takes a bite for herself. "The longer you take, the more likely the pumpkin spice ice cream tubs are too spoil, too."
"We die, we die and so we must live," Robin mutters under her breath as her eyes fall upon her liege and King, returned from the shadows without looking worse to wear. The rumors of Thanatos vacation had reached her hears, so she had hoped for the miracle her people deserved, but never thought it possible. Not when Fortuna had turned away from them over the last year. And yet, here she finds herself, witnessing her wildest hopes come true. It had been a wonderful daydream, to hear the word of mouth of his return, but she had needed confirmation with her own eyes. Stepping from the shade, the Autumn Chancellor falls to one knee and bows her head on her fealty. "The Drow Court has been awfully quiet since the end of the Midsommar festivities," she informs him softly, head kept down and voice firm. This is Mery, her friend, her king, and she will give him the proper respect he is owed. Even when her very essence asks her to reach out and bring him into a hug. To ensure he is there and not a mirage conjured to mock her kind. "Aside from that, I have been fully confirmed as the Autumn Chancellor. The Múkēs Holt is yours to use as you see fit. Additionally, I prepared a little gift for the Senate, in case they turn their eyes our way."
@senatusstarters Location: on the edge of the faerie forest
Meryasek had done a bit of redecorating. His magic had ended with his "life", so he had to hum his song and bring back the wards and fortifications that went through the forest. Now, no one would enter or leave without him knowing. His sprite was back, a little hummingbird that would be made of hellfire, a new beginning as he mourned the one he had lost and had for so long. A presence was behind him now, and he stood up, his true form still hidden. He hadn't done much explaining, but he supposed people had questions. "You look well. Did I miss much?"
when? From the afternoon of the 22nd of September to the dawn of the 23rd. where? Autumn's Fields mentions: Farenduil, Meryasek and Titania, brief mentions of Yavie, Zahrya, Prometheus trigger warnings: body horror, like babes so much of it, grief, fungi/mushrooms, decay, gore length: 4,691 words
Find the Call of What Falls Forevermore Here
Recipients of the Autumn boons:
Those who allied with the Fairy Throne, you know who you are
Farenduil
Hayliel
Emma Wright
Faiman
Demigods
Tati Gabrielle as Jo Braddock in Uncharted (2022)
Ambrose and Prudence in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Part 3 Episode 1: The Hellbound Heart
"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?”
chancellorxlaer:
zahryaofspring:
who?: any bitches (eladrin or whatever) still alive i can’t keep track anymore where?: their hellhole (the forest) right on top of that corpse I’m done
✿*° ‘° ･
He was there, he was right there screaming for his King, but he was helpless. Too tired to move or act fast enough, it was his heartache that twisted the trees to strike on his behalf. But even they were too slow, spearing wispy shadows instead of his greatest foes. He caught his King’s body before it could hit the ground, shakily singing every song of Spring he could think of. He smashed a blood fruit into the cavernous hole of his chest, pumped ichor straight from his flowers until they withered, and wailed his useless tunes in every key he knew. Nothing worked, his King was gone, and once again he was powerless to make anything better.
“Do something! He can’t be gone. Why didn’t you … do something! Worthless cowards. Fools and cowards I hate you! I need him. We need him…” He directs his words at the fractured remnants of the eladrin race, all those who bore witness as he feels and wavers between all five stages of grief at once. Eventually, all he can do is sob, his thunderous pain reverberating throughout the forest while the Black Wind’s cruel laughter reverberates in his skull.
-
In an effort to preserve what remained of the King’s dignity, Laer sung a song while the rest of the kingdom looked on. Lifted the body away from Zahrya as it was bandaged and glamoured so the ichor that still spilled from Mery’s body would not stain through. “Get up, Zahrya.” Laer said as curtly as he could manage. Loss defined them at every turn. Their Queen, their home, and now the heir that had risen so sharply in such a short amount of time.
“Sometimes it feels like the Gods are laughing at us,” Laer whispered, though through a warm breeze his voice was carried across the company and the crowd. Some of their greatest defenders were gone while the city had been thrown into hedonistic, debaucherous turmoil. Laer felt grief, hatred, and anguish wrapped into one as his patience for this realm ended entirely. The mortals and the drow, these long standing feuds that had chipped away at them relentlessly. “King Meryasek is dead,” the chancellor announced as he roughly hauled Zahrya to his feet, “but your chancellorship remains, reinforce the boundaries, expel any intruders.” He looked towards the bandaged body of the King he’d watched rise from toddler to manhood, the bright and inquisitive mind that had held so much promise.
Another fey life taken, another drow for Ayi’ig’s army. He looked away from the body because he couldn’t stare at it any longer.
“Count the dead, we bury them within the week.” The chancellors would convene and retribution would be swift.
....
There is a weight that comes with being the survivor of a tragedy, to bear witness to your world falling apart from the seams even as you attempt to keep it together. Robin is too far to stop the Drow Queen, too far to do anything but watch as the Court’s suffer yet another blow, one she does not know how they will recover from. Titania, their home, Fen’harel, Aurora and now Meryasek? It has been blow after blow, no break in between. It’s been a long arduous year, a year full of grief and loss, and they seem to keep losing no matter what they attempt. It is far too much grief, far too much misery, bottled and kept inside for too long for her to be able to keep a hold of it any longer. The vessel on her chest, the one where she keeps all her worries and grief and empathy, shatters under the pressure of seeing the corpse of yet another friend, of another loved one, before her. The first crack had appeared in Halloween, deepened further by Wade’s betrayal, but this, for Hyrsam to ensure that his King’s funeral would also becomes Meryasek’s? Over and over again, she had considered peace, had considered unity between species as a solution to their current conflicts.
No more.
The world had turned their back to the fey, it’s only fair they do the same. Anger bypasses grief, her song joining Laer’s in order to keep the pretense of an united front before their people and their enemies alike. Flames gather around them, the fire preventing anyone but the chancellor’s from reaching their fallen King. As she steps closer, Robin allows herself a brief moment to grieve for who they had lost, to grieve for her friend, gone where they could not follow after doing his all to protect their people. He had risen beyond any of the expectations placed on him, and his death was yet another injustice struck against the fey.
Alas, death takes kings and paupers alike.
Eyes snapping open, Robin let’s out a whistle, high and sharp, and sends her own changeling to reinforce the borders as a precaution. Zahrya will do his duty, but any help will be a kindness for the Spring Chancellor.
“Do not stand around, we cannot afford to remain frozen,” Robin snaps out, voice sharp and cutting through the grief beginning to overwhelm the court. “Gather the children, ensure they are kept safe, place the death together and notify next of kin. Now.”
Eyes going back to Zahrya, she bites her lip and tentatively places her hand upon his shoulder in comfort. There had been a tension between the two since that conversation near the pond, but there cannot be infighting if they want to survive, weakened as they are. “Not now Zahrya,” she offers, voice soft yet kind. “We will have our time for grieve later, but now? Now we must ensure that Meryasek’s work does not go to waste.”
zahryaofspring:
who?: any bitches (eladrin or whatever) still alive i can’t keep track anymore where?: their hellhole (the forest) right on top of that corpse I’m done
✿*° ‘° ･
He was there, he was right there screaming for his King, but he was helpless. Too tired to move or act fast enough, it was his heartache that twisted the trees to strike on his behalf. But even they were too slow, spearing wispy shadows instead of his greatest foes. He caught his King’s body before it could hit the ground, shakily singing every song of Spring he could think of. He smashed a blood fruit into the cavernous hole of his chest, pumped ichor straight from his flowers until they withered, and wailed his useless tunes in every key he knew. Nothing worked, his King was gone, and once again he was powerless to make anything better.
“Do something! He can’t be gone. Why didn’t you … do something! Worthless cowards. Fools and cowards I hate you! I need him. We need him…” He directs his words at the fractured remnants of the eladrin race, all those who bore witness as he feels and wavers between all five stages of grief at once. Eventually, all he can do is sob, his thunderous pain reverberating throughout the forest while the Black Wind’s cruel laughter reverberates in his skull.
-
In an effort to preserve what remained of the King’s dignity, Laer sung a song while the rest of the kingdom looked on. Lifted the body away from Zahrya as it was bandaged and glamoured so the ichor that still spilled from Mery’s body would not stain through. “Get up, Zahrya.” Laer said as curtly as he could manage. Loss defined them at every turn. Their Queen, their home, and now the heir that had risen so sharply in such a short amount of time.
“Sometimes it feels like the Gods are laughing at us,” Laer whispered, though through a warm breeze his voice was carried across the company and the crowd. Some of their greatest defenders were gone while the city had been thrown into hedonistic, debaucherous turmoil. Laer felt grief, hatred, and anguish wrapped into one as his patience for this realm ended entirely. The mortals and the drow, these long standing feuds that had chipped away at them relentlessly. “King Meryasek is dead,” the chancellor announced as he roughly hauled Zahrya to his feet, “but your chancellorship remains, reinforce the boundaries, expel any intruders.” He looked towards the bandaged body of the King he’d watched rise from toddler to manhood, the bright and inquisitive mind that had held so much promise.
Another fey life taken, another drow for Ayi’ig’s army. He looked away from the body because he couldn’t stare at it any longer.
“Count the dead, we bury them within the week.” The chancellors would convene and retribution would be swift.
"She is doing surprisingly well," Robin agrees with a hum as she settles next to Assan, offering him one of the drinks she had gotten for them once she was sitting down. Brown eyes settle on Lucas' performance of Hamlet and she tilts her head in consideration. It is truly amazing work, of the sort she had rarely seen in other theaters and as abnormal as the catching choices are, they are all giving their all. It is impressive, and she is sure William would be appreciative of their hard work. "I remember that, it was a rather interesting evening, wasn't it?"
@senatusstarters location: the FUNCTION notes: using his telepathy for one event only
Assan spoke plainly into the mind of the person sat next to him as the two enjoyed the modern Roman's interpretation of a timeless classic. "Lilith is a very good Ophelia," all the actors were surprisingly talented, Nabi as the Ghost of Hamlet's Father was surprising casting - and the necromancer as Hamlet's mother was certainly a choice, but Assan had to give it to every one of them. "I saw the original when it was still being performed by the Lord Chamberlain's men." He recounted, Robin had been a big fan of all Shakespeare's work - kind of a fangirl. Assan sat with an overflowing plate of snacks, uncharacteristically sharing with the person next to him.
who? @wadecalhoun where? by the dance floor
"Do they teach you how to dance in the fancy farm of yours?" She asks as she slides next to Wade with a chesire grin on her face. Bumping her shoulder good naturedly against the hunter's, she basks on his presence, wondering why does it feel like it's been far too long since the two of them spent time together. "I sure hope so, you won't be impressing anyone if all you know is square dancing."
wadecalhoun:
“Bit of a gut punch,” he offers Robin a sour expression for if she’s too paint him as a complete evildoer, the Archer is not about to exhaust himself fighting against such imagery. He’d thrived off of fear and anger, it led him to this pivotal moment of their friendship where now they were mere strangers once more, torn apart by violence spurred by hatred and confusion. “You must think I’m doin’ way more than working for them. I don’t have any clearance into those labs,” it’s a half-whisper considering she’s jumping right in when they’re on the line for coffee, but he’ll settle for duking it out with her as he waited.
“You know, that does it make me feel a bit better for trusting you for so long,” she muses thoughtfully as she settles by his side to wait for the line to move. It is almost amusing to hear him struggle to half-whisper, not realizing that she had thrown a privacy spell around the two as soon as she had stepped closer. Robin wasn’t careless, for fuck’s sake. She knew the meaning of subtlety, but she also was petty and vindictive, and worrying Wade just a little bit was far too amusing for her right now. “The fact that you do have morals, I mean. Makes it easier to believe you are just incapable to withstanding peer pressure, and not willingly malicious,” she comments carelessly before rising a brow. “The labs are not the only suspect thing of the whole organization and you know it.”
who? @arastirmacii where? near the gladiator contest
Robin had been unable to look away from the gladiator contest since it had started, too delighted by the sheer violence of the fistfight to look away. There is something rather fascinating about the raw violence within the bodies of these twinks, and how even with it they are nothing in comparison to the human woman's anger. It is rather stunning, so she walks up to her after the event, not acknowledging the niggling feeling that there was something that wasn't quite right.
"Congratulations, you did very well in comparison to everyone else."
