Post Plot Drop: Halloween - Blog Posts
yaviefey:
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“You can ask.” Yavie offered, for the first time since their conversation had started he offered a smile that was light, but brief. Their experiences obviously weren’t universal and though they came from the same season it was easier to count their fewer similarities than their vast differences. “But he’s a criminal, someone I should probably avoid anyways.” He took a sip from his drink, would that it was so easy to simply get the man out of his head. “I don’t think people would approve.”
...
“In that case, who is the fool that has captured your affections?” Her curiosity wins, once given permission, and she can’t get herself to take back the question because truly, she wants to know. Even more after Yavie continues speaking, the curiosity coursing through her veins as she speaks, head tilting in consideration as she tries to think on possible men that match that description. “A criminal? Surely, there must be something worthy on this man if you fell in love with him, even if it was only with the idea of him.”
summersiofra:
Siofra couldn’t take offense to certain play on words like mortals may, but she still raised a brow as if offended that Robin had showed her up in knowledge. They still had plenty to learn in the mortal realm but also could figure that Aurora wouldn’t take kindly to her knowledge pursuit being tainted by alcoholic beverages and their monikers; even if most humans did tend to openly abuse the substance. “Let us start slow with tequila and lime then,” they uttered despite being wrong about the transition from drink to drink, jumping up as a scream tore through the room, putting the summer warder on edge. “I need to find Aurora now.”
...
‘It’s lime and —,” her correction to Siofra’s understandable mistake is interrupted by the sense of dread coming from her clairvoyance, and soon is swept aside by the scream and the wave of necromancing magic that follows. Robin had not been alive the last time Asphodel had risen, but she had read the accounts, heard her mother’s stories. Fear fills her as she realizes that the coven has returned and with it the threat of the war her kind still fears due to the losses they had at the hands of the dead. Danger is in the air, and there are so many possible victims on it’s path.
“Go,” Robin nods, understanding the warder’s duty. “I will attempt to work in evacuation and wait for my chancellor’s orders.”
wadecalhoun:
“M’slow to learn, slow to motivate, always have been,” he shrugged carelessly as a zombie lunged at him, kicking them backwards and stabbing them in tandem succinctness. He had worked up to a certain bravado when it came to hunting monsters, but everyone had their limits, covered in an amalgam of blood and sweat, “Well, you know I love a good ass kicking,” he’d set up the joke as the words were heaved from his lungs, understanding full well that Robin would always take note to jab at when he was a mere scrawny kid who was motivated by pure scorn and rage. Now, well, not much had changed except he certainly was not as lost and scrawny anymore. “But, if I did want this show to reach Act Three and move to the closin’ curtain call, you got any ideas how we’d get there, sweetheart?”
...
“Now that is a lie if I have heard one,” there is a thrill of amusement on her voice as she manifests her blade once more and decapitates a nearby ghoul with a swoop. There is much work to be done, mortal and immortals to safeguard from the walking dead, and she cannot do it alone. A warder would come in handy at this time, but all she has available is her human friend. Who happens to know how to fight supernatural due to his own quest to get revenge on a demon. Understandable, perhaps, but she worries this might led him down a path she might not be able to forgive him for taking. “If I remember correctly, you were rather quick to learn what I told you once you admitted to yourself that I was rather too kind and pretty to be a demon.”
The teasing is slow and steady even as she keeps her barrage of attacks steady, ensuring a modicum of protection for the two of them. She is older and better trained, likely to be able to continue fighting for the rest of the night with the magic to bolster her.
“Now that I can believe, but you do have a breathtaking resilience, darling. No matter how many times your pretty ass is knocked down, you always seem to come back up,” her compliment flows smoothly as she raises a palm and utters a few choice words in the old tongue, sending wall of flames around them to incinerate the nearest Terrors. “Not as such, I am afraid. Magic might be able to stop the spell’s area of influence from expanding, but it will require a great deal of power. Otherwise? The spell focus must be broken, but I do not know how to reach it.”
“And it only took you what? A few years to pay back?” The question is honey sweet, even as she sends the human a nod of acknowledgment and thanks now that she is no longer overwhelmed by the undead. It had been a brief moment of distraction, as she felt yet another eladrin die and become one of the undead, that had brought her to a pause, lowering her guard and putting her in danger. She would have managed, without Wade, but she is not ungrateful. Raising her hand to takes his, she shakes her head and smirks lightly. “Not by far, not until this thing has ended. You?”
a gift for @thegoodfellow,
“Now we’re even,” Wade practically hollered out amidst the screams of innocents and the vexing groan of zombies as they tore into flesh. He’d witnessed Robin become overwhelmed by a horde and wasted no time in going forward, knowing he was in debt to her. Their friendship had become more nuanced than that but he was always irreverently reticent, playing off his unfortunate appreciation for the autumn fey with sarcasm and short remarks. Wade held a hand out for her in finality, grinning, “Had enough of the fun yet?”
who? @sanctimoniovs
where? the graveyard, still
She finds the lycan fighting alone in the middle of a dozen Terrors, and she doesn’t hesitate to jump into the fray, flaming blade sweeping to distract the undead before going into the offensive. Years of experience in combat allow her to accommodate to the man’s fighting style, covering for his weaknesses and ensuring no one gets close enough to take a killing blow. She hums as she fights, crafting a ward against a bunch of covering supernaturals in the corner, and when the barrier comes up, she withdraws her blade, raising her hand instead to create a barrier of fire around them.
“Alrigth, wolfie. What are your thoughts on partnering for the night? I need to make sure as many people get out of here as possible, and you are a pretty good fighter.”
who? @sabinabrutus
where? the graveyard
Fire is an element that comes to Robin as easy as breathing, an intricate diamond blade set aflame manifesting on her hand as soon as the danger makes itself known. She had sensed the strange magic as soon as it had swept upon Rome, heard the words of the Pythia and felt the dread swept over her as her clairvoyance hit her with the all consuming emotion. Then chaos falls upon the once melodious party and she sets asides her worries to examine later, fire sweeping around her as she hums, the smell of Autumn following her as blistering flames consume Terrors and protect the living. She will not allow harm to befell to anyone, not if she can help it. Eladrin might be her priority, but she would never allow the fate of a Terror befell an innocent soul.
“Down, mortal,” she orders the pretty woman before she sweeps her blade above her and decapitates an unsuspecting Terror.