Chancellorxlaer​:

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.

Decay it's an eternal cycle of life and what comes hereafter. A constant movement in the flow of eternity, it is not hard to lose oneself to the rot if wandering outside the chosen path. Slowly, carefully, she wades through the bogs, her magic keeping her muck free as she wanders through her domain, eyes narrowed as she looks around for any sign of cracks on the foundation. Her song had been strong and sure as she built the Dusk Court, but one can never be too careful, when her people are the ones at stake. Routine check ups across her court serve to calm her, as well as to get to know more of her people as she wanders.

This time, however, she is heading deeper into Trickster's Bog with Inan by her side, her head tilted to the side in consideration as he awaits for him to breach the silence with whatever that is bothering him. A sigh swells int he back of her throat for a moment as he once again chooses formality to create a barrier betwem the two of them, but keeps it to herself as she sends him a curious look. "What is it, Warder? "

@thegoodfellow location: Dusk Court notes: creepy

Travel between the fey forest and the realm of the elves was simple, Inan had taken to patrolling the borders and living beyond the Moon Gate for its ease. His home was already among the trees out there, a small farm that he didn't wish to uproot. Their power had grown, some exponentially, but if the common-blooded fey had weak magic to begin with, multiplying it didn't increase it as significantly as it did for the noble elves. Inan had become stronger, certainly, but the gap between the two bloodlines only became more distinct. It was not hard to understand how one had come to subjugate the other so many years ago.

Robin was safe within their Court, something that Inan hadn't truly felt since Titania reigned over the Otherworld. Here they were though, wandering amidst the muck of the bogs, the stirring decay and mysteries beneath their feet as Inan's footfalls carried him lightly across the surface. "My lady, there is something I feel I must tell you." Keeping secrets from the chancellor wasn't in his nature, but if she were to keep him as her warder then he needed to be honest with her.

END

"If that is how you feel, there is nothing else to say about it. However, if you ever need my aid in this matter, I will do so freely, as a repayment for the transparency." There is something rotten about having to word their relationship as transactional, but there is a desire to respect Inan's boundaries and they have time to build on the fragile trust he had chosen to extend to her after Fen'harel's betrayal. "I will, yes. I am curious to see what this Count is capable on this matter. You?"

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."

who? @wintersaurora where? moon gate, Audulë  notes: doing the randomize top songs thing and got super villain by stileto, silent child and kandyle page

"I think we are overdue some mimosas and sweets," she says as she offers the Lunar Chancellor her arm to escort her out of the Fey Forest and towards A Grazie a Brunch. She had contacted the dark elf in charge and managed to reserve them the perfect table for some gossip and snooping. Perhaps if she poked the other enough, she would admit about her apparent taste for members of the Dusk Court, current and past alike.

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.

"Rhovanor," Robin greets with delight. It has been quite some time since she had seen her fellow Fall Eladrin and she had been wondering where he had been. The funny thing is, she doesn't remember why she had been wondering about him. Funny in the most curious way, settling on her gut heavily for a moment, with something that almost seemed like worry— Until it was swiped away by the delight and excitement of the festivities. Taking a step forward, she falls into the hug with ease, enjoying the presence of yet another one of her people coming to greet her. "I have been well," she says, even as Wade's face pops into her head for no reason. "How have you been? Where have you been? We haven't seen each other for a long while, and I do miss our chats."

starter for @thegoodfellow event: Midsommar Night's Dream

It was good to see his former chancellor around. There'd been instances in which Rhovanor was grateful for Robin's continuous support, remembered her no doubt important role within the Autumn court and the way he'd looked up to her -- all of which faded in comparison to the loyalty he experienced nowadays. Still, he'd have to show his gratitude towards her tonight. "Chancellor Goodfellow, I'm so happy to see you," he was, already visible by the way he approached her. One tight hug followed, his face pressed against the curve of her neck, just keeping himself in there for a bit. "How have you been? It's been some time, truly."

TATI GABRIELLE as Nadine Ross Braddock in Uncharted (2022)

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.

who? @wadecalhoun

where? the last bean

A contemplative mood falls upon the small table she has gotten for herself on the corner of the coffee shop, a cup of tea settled in front of her as she ponders at the window. It’s not her court that worries her now, not the Senate nor the drows. Not even the Eye, despite the task she had been assigned by the other chancellors. Instead, she is reminiscing, allowing herself to feel the grief that had clogged on her chest after the period of mourning. The change from a carefree livestyle to taking up the responsibilities of Chancellor had been drastic, allowing her little to no time to grieve those departed. Robin is not crying, not quite, but those who know her will notice the slight shine of her eyes as she looks at the window, the unusual somber air that follows her.

She is reaching towards her cup when someone slides on the chair in front of her, bringing her back from her contemplation as she raises her eyes and presents one of her favorite mortals with the facsimile of a smile.

“What do I owe the pleasure?”