Latest Posts by thegoodfellow - Page 6
wardercloud:
Drinking. That had been their safe haven for as long as it had been since Theneras was lost to them. They couldn’t find it in themself to do anything else. If Cloud chose to let all of those emotions funnel through, then the floodgates would open and it would be more than just that leaving their system. The summer fey had been nursing a bottle of…something to their chest when they heard Robin’s voice. They had been standing there watching the way things moved around them. There was a sword of flames within their hand that they had not put away. Cloud had always been on the defensive. They had always been in a state of readiness their entire life. It was there more now than ever before. Even as the fall chancellor came upon them, they almost held it out towards her, but they resisted the urge. “I’m fine.” That was what they kept telling themself. They were fine. It had become so ingrained in their head that even saying it was not a lie. Anyone could tell that it wasn’t the case, but they could believe Cloud’s words. “I haven’t had it worse than anyone else. I won’t make this about me.” Their eyes hadn’t met hers yet until they stopped speaking. Even seeing her face caused them to drink from the bottle in their grasp.
...
“Ah, shit,” she sighs, allowing herself to fall down to the ground, crossing her legs and patting the sand next to her in an invitation to sit down. Cloud wasn’t lying, they could not lie, and yet, there is no denying that everything is not as it appears. With a hum, she summons a bottle of feywine from her own reserves and opens the cork, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a long sip, trying to think on how to approach the conversation. Perhaps it’s true, that Cloud hasn’t had it worse than anyone else, but emotions won’t care about that. Not when their wardee had done as much as Theneras had did and they had lost them, not when their duty had been to protect Theneras and they had failed, in the worst way imaginable. “And if I ask you to? You are my friend and I want to hear how you have been coping, if you want to talk,” she admits quietly. “And if not, can I keep you company? I am anything but fine, and I could use it.”
meryasek:
Meryasek’s magic was spread throughout the forest. He’d ingrained a bit of his own song into the flowers, into the trees, whispers that would give him news, tell him what was wrong, and that’s exactly what had happened, now. Robin was in trouble, and maybe he was too hyperaware of the fey now – he didn’t think twice about using his magic to transport him across the forest, standing now above Robin. The Fall Chancellor was weak, her blood spilling into the fauna below her, and he kneeled beside her, “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, mostly to make her relax. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his hand coming to rest above hers. Blood seeped between his fingers, but he began his healing song, the wound slowly but surely stitching itself up. She would be weak, still, but no longer in danger. “Tell me.”
...
“Someone who I thought I could trust,” she gasps out as magic begins filling her, healing her, faster than she would have been able to do alone and panicking. As much as Robin had witnessed combat before, but it had never been as real. Not when no one could get close enough to wound, not when her magic could always protect her. The Autumn Court was meant to be one for guile, for trickery and strategy, they were not warriors, they were mastermind, always counting the grain to ensure they would survive the Winter, and she had grown complacent on that role. But no longer. She needed to learn how to fight beyond her magic. “I will not make that mistake again, but they are too useful to kill just yet.”
zahryaofspring:
✿*° ‘° ･
Benevolence is in Zahrya’s nature, but even now he can’t tell if Robin’s hesitation is something to be cherished or shot down. He can’t see beyond the bounds of his vow. “I will show them no mercy,” he declares with an intensity that’s out of place given the tone of their chat, but he softens once again. “It’s not just the season, it’s you. These fields are only possible because this bounty is what your heart reflects. Charity is wonderful, but at some point we have to turn our gaze to ourselves.” As he strums, Zahrya thinks of the old days before humans became so plentiful, the days his kind thrived while he grew in the Labyrinth. They’d been shared with him and therefore he was able to idealize the era. Perhaps Robin could benefit from such stories. “There was once a time when no mortal king could accomplish anything without the influence of an eladrin. They worshipped us and in turn, we built their civilizations. Art, music, and magic, all gifts from us, but that has been forgotten. We are no longer bound by the senate and can once again expose our divinity to the masses, but we’re beyond the point where we could do such things without purpose. Testing the denizens of the mortal realm with the intention of subjugation would be the only way such an idea could work.”
...
“It’s a lesson I am beginning to learn, yes, but despite my growing lack of compassion towards most of humanity,” Robin says slowly, spitting out the word compassion as if it had rotten in her mouth, the resentment from recent events on her shoulders weighting her down but not to fully cloud her senses. “I cannot say that showing them no mercy is the solution, not when many of them are our allies. When many of them have laid with fey, or given birth to faiman children. Do the children do not deserve our mercy?” It’s a quick inquiry, and Robin wonders. Wonders where Zahrya would have fallen on the news of her brother’s exile to be with his human and his children, wonders if he considers those children worthy. “There is no denying that we are beyond humanity’s comprehension, that without us they would never have become what they now are. However, I must warn you Zahrya, humans have long desired to kill their gods, and the Eye has made that desire a reality. If you test them too harshly, too quickly, you will turn the same people who erased Alstroemeria from existence towards us, and we cannot fight a war in two fronts with our current strength. If we want to destroy the Eye, we must do it carefully, and only after can we be bolder.”
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.”
chancellorxlaer:
-
The fey were clairvoyant, knowing who to trust and how was all but woven into their nature, still, it was not impossible for them to be deceived. Deception, however, was typically their game. Laer knew, he’d employed it countless times before. Robin looked like a frail and broken thing, hollowed eyes and worry laced her words, it was… Uncomfortable. She was a chancellor now, strength was what her people needed more than anything - what all the fey needed. One weak link reflected poorly on all of them, if there was something he could do to dispel this worry then he would do it.
“Our judgement isn’t infallible.” Laer offered, “What did this betrayal really cost you?” The chancellor asked in an attempt to ascertain the depth and breadth of her relationship with the individual who betrayed them. Fey, as it happened, were especially skilled when it came to vengeance. The magic that bloomed within them was enough to blanket this city, this forest was a focal point and anyone with intuition could feel how Zahrya had embedded it with the very nature of their being. Blood magic that Laer had affectionately steered him towards, after all, it wasn’t without its uses.
...
“A gut wound, an iron-made scar and a great deal of the empathy I set aside for humanity,” Robin admits, a near sardonic smile on her lips as she speaks. She is more than aware of her own predilection for humans, knows that her young age had given her a kinder perspective of them as she had not experience the same violence towards their kind that the older generations had. She knows that all things considered, she had been more understanding of humanity than many other eladrin, knows despite the new jaded certainty sitting on her chest, she is likely to remind kinder still. It’s her better nature, but as any eladrin that is not the only thing that she is. “I had a project of sorts, a human that hunted demons for revenge for what they did to his family, and I saw myself on him in a way. That blinded me to his cowardice and lack of principles.”
The truth is simple, at the end of the day. Robin had seen herself on Wade, desperate to avenge the lost of a loved one, and because of that, had been willing to help him. Willing to love him as a friend, because she had trusted him as one trusts those they believe they understand, those they believe to be alike them. What Robin had failed to see was that Wade lacked the strength of character to be anything but a lamb. Well, if that if he was so very willing to betray her for puny convictions, she would need not hesitate any longer. He is a lamb, and one she would gladly lead to a slaughter
“The good news is that now I have a stronger link leading back to the Eye, and little compunctions on exploiting it,” she offers, slowly. It still weights on her, the care she held for Wade, but her people always came first, and now that the little archer is a threat, she will spare him from her anger no longer.
thegoodfellow:
…
When he stumbles, seemingly collapses unto himself and leaves it doesn’t surprise her, but it does shatter what is left of the faith she held for her once-favorite hunter. It is such a small thing that does it, the way he hesitates, the way he almost reaches back, the way he almost seems sorry — But despite it all, despite the hesitation, despite the countless times she had saved him, he leaves. He heeds her warning and weighs his life against hers, and decides his is worth more, every time. Faith is such a funny sentiment, capable of withstanding the worst of storms and shattering at a single look. Robin had believed in Wade, had believed that he saw her as more than the means to an end, more than a convenient relationship to use and then discard.
She had believed them friends, had given him the gift of her friendship and loyalty when she rarely bestowed it to any human, and he had repaid her with the same sort of fire and brimstone the demon he so fears had offered him. It would be ironic if it wasn’t so fucking infuriating.
“With friends like these, who needs enemies,” she mumbles, coughs out through the pain, blood staining the back of her teeth as she looks at the hunters that had remained and smiles like a predator, for what are they but New Rome’s guardian’s prey? She feels them coming as she levels a look at the hunters before her, knows that their judgment day is closer than they would like and the mean-spirited part of her relishes at this information. There might be a sense of unique understanding and empathy for humanity that Robin holds on her chest, but she is not less of a fey because of it. They are a fickle capricious sort, her people, and she has never been shy about her determination to see the Eye burn. Wade has confirmed her suspicions, and she has granted him one last kindness.
Next time, the one bleeding for his mistakes will be him.
She has no need to retaliate against the hunters that remain, though, not when she only has to look to the side to see a changeling emerging from the fog to deliver their fate to them. Instead, she focuses on her song to slow down the blood flow enough to stand up and hobble deeper into the forest. The blade had been iron and properly cured, not impossible to heal but something she would feel much more confident healing with someone else present. Carefully, she limps away from the clearing where the curtain of her friendship with Wade had fallen, leaving behind nothing but a pool of blood and hoping that she will find someone to join her in a healing song sooner rather than later.
Hours had passed since Wade had been given the leverage to abandon Robin to her fate. The fey had built a new community to themselves to be salvaged from Rome’s watchful eye and Wade had destroyed that for Robin, inadvertently. He’d had never wished for something like this to transpire, but it seemed his affiliation with the Eye would only force it to be an inevitable. A choice he would have to make no matter the friendship sprouted with the autumnal fey; a choice had to be made or Wade’s personal vendetta would be lost to connections severed. The Eye was a necessary evil to him a means to a fateful end that was vital to him. He was just a mere and measly human, supplemented with natural brawn, but he was human and even brute musculature could not protect him from the evils that awaited him in the night. The Eye allowed him safe passage as his itinerary was customized with necessary tools to defeat said evils. He had made a choice and though it seemed important in the moment, it still felt wrong as he agonized any way to see that Robin had escaped.
He’s unsure of why he’s still allowed access through the fog, expects it to claim him forever but Wade finds his way through to the scene of trauma. Blood is spattered on the ground and he’s certain it has to be Robin’s considering the fatal amount and his stomach churns at the reminder. She’s nowhere to be seen and he tries to find a sliver of positivity in such factor but feels queasy as the metallic scent of blood pervades his senses. There’s this screech that’s chilling, it resounds like a bestial creature that certainly has to be a changeling. He can’t stay not unless he’d like to repay his betrayal with his own life and so Wade crosses the threshold out of New Rome once more certain that he’ll never be allowed to return again.
END.
who? @meryasek
where? the faerie queen’s forest boundary, the fog
when? right after the thread where wade let’s robin be stabbed
Robin had miscalculated the deepness of the wound, when she had left the clearing and Wade behind. She had thought it possible for her to reach one of the border settlements, perhaps even find a healer before it’s too late. She is proven wrong near her destination, when her legs give out under her and she collapses into a heap of flowers. A groan leaves her lips as she does, the movement pulling at the open wound and causing fresh blood to flow from it. She needs help, and quickly, lest she bleeds out and gives another soldier to the Drow Queen. Determination burns through her veins as she begins to pull herself across the ground, unwilling to give up and admit defeat. She doesn’t have to go far, she finds out, as a familiar presence enters the vicinity and relief sweeps through her. Hazy brown eyes look up to meet Meryasek’s and she gives him a bloody smile of relief.
“Mery,” she manages to gasp out throughout the blood, one hand coming to her stomach to press against the wound. “Help.”
chancellorxlaer:
-
The expedition of Summer had seen great changes among the sands, high above the scorching fields rose pink clouds and spires of gold and silver, imbued with the light of the sun itself. It was a pale shadow when compared to the architecture of his Summer court, but it was a suitable place for his people to frolic while the creatures below meandered about the desert - searching for a hidden oasis while literal paradise loomed above them, eternally out of reach. The Fairy King’s forest had become more accessible as of late, to this end Laer wanted to make sure that the fey and the fey alone were permitted to step foot in his castle.
While Laer’s mind was encumbered, there was nothing that he would not have done to assist a fellow fey - particularly that of a chancellor when they came upon him to ask. Robin was the newest to the title, but not the youngest of the court. She had skills and experience that were an asset, as well as an intricate knowledge of the eye, something that would prove invaluable in the months to come. At least, that was Laer’s assumption. “These sands are as much your home as they are mine,” he hummed a note and made a gesture as some of the clouds descended around them, lifting them to the citadel in the sky where they could be more comfortable. “Tell me,” Laer offered as he sat at the table and gestured for Robin to make herself more comfortable, “what’s troubling you?”
....
Robin takes a second to gather herself, eyes wandering across the Summer’s Court new home, marveling at the delicate pink clouds and the elaborate spires born from them. Similar work had been done with the Autumn Field’s, the cabins and homes of her people hidden amongst the woods with her changeling hiding amidst the foliage to ensure her people’s safety. She had not been the one to organize the fields, however, that job she had delegated to one of the Autumn Court’s architects, and she wonders if she could have done as splendid of a job as the Summer Chancellor did or if she would have failed to fill the shoes Fen’harel had left behind once more.
“I am usually confident on my judgment of allies,” she begins to speak, words deliberate as she keeps her gaze on the view rather than on Laer. It’s less to avoid any sort of responsibilities at her words and more because she is ashamed of her lack of judgment and her stupidity when it had come to Wade. She had trusted him, loved him as the friend that he was, and blinded herself fully to the reality of his role. “But I made a mistake on who I should trust and I need to talk about it with someone, because the betrayal has left behind a enlarging ball of grief on my chest and I am aware I will only get rid of it if I talk about it. Alas, this will make me seem rather stupid, and I accept that fully.”
wadecalhoun:
-
The other hunters are hellbent on this blinding and senseless violence, The Eye comes across many who are meant to act under crucial orders but some seem improperly vetted by association. When their first overseer had been claimed to walk this earth as a ghoul, proper clearances had perhaps fallen to the wayside; Wade had never known The Eye to be desperate enough to snag up whoever desired to be apart of their ruthless ranks. Wade flinches as the knife meets flesh and there’s this inherent gasp and curdling scream that follows, an inevitable that carries so much agony and betrayal. It seeps into the core of his heart, blackens it a little further, almost promises him that place in the Inferno that the abomination had wagged in front of him when it had given him it’s blessing to let him suffer earth side.
He sees the proverbial flames lick around the forest, feels the heat on his neck, when really he’s sweating at the reminder of how out of control it had all become in an almost instantaneous bout of corruption. He cares little for the faith of these heedless hunters but his heart is torn in two places; to listen to Robin’s final omen or stick around to hold weight on the wound, to be consumed by the protectors of the forest, torn apart by lycans. It’d surely be considered the better fate, to meet his own quietus, than to force himself to endure what he’d just done; the agonizing weight of it all.
Wade is simply frozen, pathetically so, stumbling backwards, back towards the fog he had been granted passage to enter through. This was meant to be an innocent recon but it had stumbled into something unforgivable. The rusted scent of blood has since pricked the air and his jaw clenches as though to contain his own sickness at the reminder that it was her blood. Even with his distinct act of accomplished betray, betrayal by pathetic indifference, Robin offers him safe passage home away from the fate that the true harbingers of senseless violence would inevitably discover.
An apology is pricked in saddened irises, but it dies on his lips, it always would as he slips away into the fog back away to the sanctity of Rome and the gelid environment of The Eye’s headquarters. Wade will never be forgiven, he understands this as he recalls the insurmountable grief that struck Robin’s countenance, is anguished under the reminder of the iron blade jutting out of her frame. He would never forgive himself anyhow.
...
When he stumbles, seemingly collapses unto herself and leaves it doesn’t surprise her, but it does shatter what is left of the faith she held for her once-favorite hunter. It is such a small thing that does it, the way he hesitates, the way he almost reaches back, the way he almost seems sorry — But despite it all, despite the hesitation, despite the countless times she had saved him, he leaves. He heeds her warning and weights his life against hers, and decides his is worth more, every time. Faith is such a funny sentiment, capable of withstanding the worst of storms and shattering at a single look. Robin had believed in Wade, had believed that he saw her as more than the means to an end, more than a convenient relationship to use and then discard.
She had believed them friends, had given him the gift of her friendship and loyalty when she rarely bestowed it to any human, and he had repaid her with the same sort of fire and brimstone the demon he so fears had offered him. It would be ironic if it wasn’t so fucking infuriating.
“With friends like these, who needs enemies,” she mumbles, coughs out through the pain, blood staining the back of her teeth as she looks at the hunters that had remained and smiles like a predator, for what are they but New Rome’s guardian’s prey? She feels them coming as she levels a look at the hunters before her, knows that their judgment day is closer than they would like and the mean-spirited part of her relishes at this information. There might be a sense of unique understanding and empathy for humanity that Robin holds on her chest, but she is not less of a fey because of it. They are a fickle capricious sort, her people, and she has never been shy about her determination to see the Eye burn. Wade has confirmed her suspicions, and she has granted him one last kindness.
Next time, the one bleeding for his mistakes will be him.
She has no need to retaliate against the hunters that remain, though, not when she only has to look to the side to see a changeling emerging from the fog to deliver their fate to them. Instead, she focuses on her song to slow down the blood flow enough to stand up and hobble deeper into the forest. The blade had been iron and properly cured, not impossible to heal but something she would feel much more confident healing with someone else present. Carefully, she limps away from the clearing where the curtain of her friendship with Wade had fallen, leaving behind nothing but a pool of blood and hoping that she will find someone to join her in a healing song sooner rather than later.
who? @wardercloud
where? summer’s sands
“How are you doing?” She asks, once she finally finds them amidst Laer’s Summer Sands. The Pilgrim had gone above and beyond designing the Summer Court’s new refuge, but despite everything, it is a pale comparison of the home that had once belonged to them. It’s impossible to compare less than a month of work to the countless years and centuries that had been spent on the creation of the Courts. Young and old had come together to create a home, and now it is all lost to the Drow Queen’s domain. It would make her furious, it does make her furious, but she is weighted too much by the grief of betrayal for that anger to manifest. Not yet, at least. It had been the same with her brother’s death, first grief came and overwhelmed her, then anger and the desire for revenge. Her time would come, but for now, she would follow her grief and ensure those she loves are as well as possible with all the circumstances. “The last few weeks have not been easy on any of us, but they might have hit you harder.”
who? @wintersaurora
where? the winter’s mountains, outside aurora’s cabin
There is little than can be said in times of tragedy, little more that can be done when your friend has gone through the unimaginable. All she can do, when it comes down to it, is ensure Aurora knows she is not alone, despite the tepid water the Courts inhabit, now that they have been exiled from the Otherworld and have to live in a fraction of the space they had once done. Company is a helpful remedy to many an ailment, and company is something she thinks both of them might need, now more than ever. Holding a basket of spoils from the Autumn’s fields under her arm and a bottle of non-alcoholic apple cider on the other, she finds herself in front of Aurora’s cabin. Carefully, she knocks at the door, having made her presence known once she had first approached, but not wanting to cause any panic by her knock. She had enough background knowledge from the aftermath of torture, at least in the academic sense, that she has a vague idea of what the other is going through and she does not want to make her any more unsafe.
“Aurora? It’s Robin, I was wondering if you would like some company,” she offers, allowing space for the other to deny her if she wants to be alone.
who? @chancellorxlaer
where? summer’s sands
Robin is by far the least experienced of the Chancellors. Born to the stable reign of Fen’harel, having grown with the belief that the Dread Wolf would protect their court and never harm them, only to be proved wrong by the liar’s own lips. Only to be thrown into a position she had never wanted, her freedom restrained and the weight of responsibilities that grew heavier by the day settling on her shoulders. She had done the best she could, but her transition had not come in a time of peace. No matter what, it never seemed like she had done enough. Not for the courts, not for her court. Not while more than half her people suffered at the hands of their most ancient enemy, not while there was nothing she could do, for her expertise laid on subterfuge and not the full frontal attack the drow required. Her task had been solidified once she had become a Chancellor: to watch the Eye’s moves and undermine them as much as they could. And despite that, she had given one of them the entrance to their last refuge, given Wade permission to enter, and invitation. She had been lucky the only one to pay the iron price had been her, lucky that her mistake had not cost any fey life, but even in this luck, she had been unlucky. For she is weakened now, when they need the Chancellor’s strength to be at it’s fullest.
A sigh escapes her lips, as she approaches Laer’s presence. Robin is in dire need of advice, and although she wishes to go to Meryasek or Aurora instead, she cannot overburden her friends on such a crucial time. Laer, however? He has had millennia to learn how to hold the burden of his position, even in war time, and she faithfully believes that although he does not carry all the solutions, talking to him will at least help.
“I am in dire need of advice,” she comments quietly, as she comes to stand next to the other as they survey Laer’s work at shaping his new domain. “And I would prefer if it’s yours, but if you are too overburdened by current events, do let me know, I can find someone else.”
“Many forget that while summer and spring are used for planting, it is fall that brings the harvest to fruition,” Robin mentions idly, smile tired from where she is stands, a hand wrapped around her waist and the other on a tree trunk to keep her balance. As a Chancellor, she has been given the best treatment capable for someone suffering from an iron wound, but the faint scar still pulls if she moves just right, so she has taken to be careful as she moves. Nothing too noticeable, for she can’t allow her people to grow discouraged, but she doesn’t believe for a second the other Chancellors have not noticed. Fall might be for liars, but she has never been much of an actor when it comes to the things that matter most. “That is a beautiful dream, but you are correct. Humankind fears what they cannot comprehend, and those who would not hate us would be too afraid to go against the crowds to protest. And yet, we must not forget that although many mortals are our enemies, there are many more unaware of our existence and they, more than anyone else, deserve our mercy.”
where?: autumn’s fields
✿*° ‘° ･
With the influx of Otherworldly refugees, part of Zahrya’s duties now include ensuring that no ecosystem is overburdened. The balance of life within the forest will be maintained for all, and the bounty of Robin’s fields was a big part of that. Crop vegetables and fungus line the bellies of the beasts Zahrya directs along a migratory feeding path. Humans could spend their entire lives tending to these fields and never pick the plants bare, just one of the many marvels of this forest. “It’s quite curious how this one strip of forest could feed so many,” he says absentmindedly as they watch the animals feed, the lyre at his fingertips directing their march and appetites. “We could probably heal the entire realm together. You and I could easily feed every plant and creature with the simplest of songs, and yet they would still find a reason to persecute us for it. I’m much happier now that we’ve abandoned such notions. Mercy is for the deserving.”
@thegoodfellow
TATI GABRIELLE Filmed by Robert Marrero for Wonderland Magazine (Winter 22/23)
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.
Tati Gabrielle as Prudence Night The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Devastation is something her kind is not well used to, not something she has felt often on her immortal life. Her brother’s dead was the first and only time she had felt anything remotely alike the emotion now swelling at her chest. A fear for the safety of those she cared about, echoing day after day as they tended to their wounded and saw that their numbers were drastically reduced. Fear is in the air, and they are facing a war on all sides. The Senate, the Eye, Ayi’gi. Enemy after enemy laps at their borders and they cannot stop all of them, cannot stop any of them. The toxin had been fey made, but delivered by the Eye, another machination of theirs, but it had been Theneras words that had sealed their status as an enemy of the Senate. One of their own’s hatred had doomed their standing on the senate, and one of their owns idiocy had seen Ayi’gi summoned from the depths from where she had not meant to be summoned. Not yet, at least.
The survivors were being ragged, the Chancellors even more so, scrambling to gather a semblance of stability on an increasingly unstable world but unable to do so quite yet.
As a Chancellor, she is not meant to serve as a sentinel, but she has taken to patrol the borders in hopes of avoiding dwelling on the thoughts haunting her every footstep. That very night, had been different. Her clairvoyance had been tugging at her senses, blaring in alarm as she walked through the forests. Robin had hoped for it to be paranoia — A hope dashed when she had sensed a very familiar human entering the boundaries of the forest. A very familiar human that wasn’t alone. The realization hits like a tsunami, powerful enough to shake her to the core. Robin has to see it, though. Has to see the confirmation of all her fears take form, has to see Wade’s face and compare it to the man that had demanded to help against the drow. Has to look into his eyes as he attempts to destroy the one refuge they had managed to keep from that one enemy.
She wants to see his eyes as she finally admits the truth that she had been keeping to herself: that she has always ever been the means to an end on his eyes.
She rushes to meet the group of humans before anyone else, allowing her defenses and armor to melt away in hopes of taking them by surprise. Robin won’t attack them immediately, not when she needs to know more of their visit, not when she might be able to use them once she hardens her heart against Wade. And — Perhaps — . Perhaps part of her wants to see how far Wade will allow to go on, so that she can let go of any affection that remains.
She melts out of the darkness that surrounds the group, and soon has a hunter’s hand grab her and drag her to the middle of the group. She doesn’t have to hide weariness on her expression, the near nonexistent spark on her eyes as she looks at them, the apprehension at their presence. Robin feels them all, and she shows them, even as fury rages on her chest at the betrayal.
“Do not venture further,” she warns, voice firm even as she pulls her arm away from the hunters grip and raises her chin to look at the group that had begun to surround her defiantly. “You are not welcomed here, and we do not want conflict on this night. Not now.”
a gift for @thegoodfellow,
notes: betrayal through complicity? oh stunning
Far too much had changed in the realm of supernaturals and their representation, laws that bound some to protection overturned, while some were bolstered with it; a clean slate. Fey and eladrins had always seemed to be this sort of untouchable group, their history with Rome and it’s Senate rolled way back and considering the Eye propped itself up as being this subliminal and illusive bogeyman, they’d done their due diligence quietly. Since the Senate had refused to support fey any longer, however, hunters within the Eye seemed far too intrigued to scour the forests and bring one back from the dangerous depths of the Fairy King’s forest. Wade was invited, Robin and him were friends and so he seemed to slip by the defenses prompted by the forests omniscient nature undetected.
It felt wrong, this palatable twinge of disaster afoot a sour tone in his mouth as he walked along with a half-drunk motley of hunters. One could consider this an off the books job but if they were able to procure something from the hidden depths of the woods, then the Eye surely would not refuse it. They’d been making this obvious ruckus as though they were calling out to any penchant of trouble and mischief if anyone dared to approach. Wade was curious as to where the bestial changelings were but his surprise and apprehension had been settled as a familiar face slipped forth from the darkness; Robin. A mild form of protest died on his lips, an error on her part for approaching him, but Wade could have offered her any sort of warning that they were about to traipse into her newly created home and wreak havoc and destruction of only one kind. His plan had always been to slip away, let their inebriation carry them through the chasm emptiness of the forest and see what swallowed them whole in lieu of their idiocy, but now he was forced to remain and deal with the consequences as one came forth with an insidious grin to grab Robin and pull her to the center of all their attention.
TATI GABRIELLE ph. Raul Romo for Flanelle Magazine (January 2020)
TATI GABRIELLE ph. Tiziano Lugli for InStyle (February 2023)
yaviefey:
-
Dark eyes watched as the creature that Robin pulled him from rotted and disintegrated, his skin melted off the bone and Yavie smirked at the effects of the fall eladrin’s rot magic. Violence had hardened something in him, these vampires had been eyeing them all night, this seemed almost inevitable. He’d have to find Hayliel, though considering the nature of the fallen’s blood he didn’t think that the man had much to worry about tonight. More accurate to say would be that Hayliel needed to find him, because Yavie had work to do and planned on having a great deal of fun along the way.
“Faren left just after the reception started,” Yavie remembered the man dancing with his daughter and the complication emotions that inspired. Grief was there too. He’d have to ask Farenduil what that was all about. The last time he’d seen Meryasek the prince had just walked in on him and Hayliel… Well… They were preoccupied at the time. “I haven’t seen anyone else since things got crazy.” Yavie looked the other up and down, Robin didn’t seem any worse for wear but the night was young.
...
There is a pause as she absorbs Yavie’s words and she nods in understanding, even as her eyes narrow both in consideration and at the lack of response to her question. There is a brief moment of relief at the information that Farenduil is not present amidst the current festivities, but that does not mean nobody else is.
“Are you alright?” she repeats deliberately, not willing to let it go when she had sensed so much pain and misery already. Yavie is her friend, has been her friend for centuries, and she refuses to lose him, not now when she fears she will lose more members of her court before the night is over.
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.
who? @yaviefey
where? the vatican
when? everything is on fire, the bethroded has died
notes: where in the world is waldo farenduil
It is with desperate surprise that she pulls Yavie back from another feral vampire an into another room. A brief gesture has the door closing with a barrier, but her mind is being pulled away in countless directions as she seeks the other members of her court, the members of her people. She had only known of the Chancellors, the Princes, the Marshals and the Senators invitations, but there is always the fear that more of their kind were in danger.
“Are you alright? Have you an eye on Faren? Mery? Anyone?” She asks, voice desperate as she eyes the door she is sure will not hold for long. Reinforcing it is useless, as they must leave before it is too late.
