Who? @meryasek​

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? @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.”

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.

“I have seen some rather amusing costumes,” she admits with a grin, even as she brushes the image of Zahrya in a changeling from her mind. She had been gone for months, and years before that, yes, but even with what little she had gathered in the last day since her return that was such a foolish idea. One she did not want to dwell on when she could be having fun. Instead, she looks to the Senator and nods in greeting, having not seen her since she had decided to pursue in the States for shits and giggles. “I would apologize that my costume is not as elaborate, but I like it well enough for something that I came up with in less than twenty-four hours.”

location: the steps leading into the palace of pluto person: every single one of yall @senatusstarters​

The thing about hosting was that she felt like she never quite stopped moving. When the doors to the main hall had been opened and people had started petering into the palace, she’d stood atop the stairs and met everyone with a smile, pointed them towards the ballroom or the entrance to outside with practiced ease. All of the nerves she’d had about letting just anyone into what she considered her home had quickly dissipated. She’d set a very simple couple of rules in place and everyone had followed them, no one was running around with cat ears and a clown nose yet. Plucking a glass of wine from one of the many attendants, she lets out a breath for posterity and turns to see the next person coming up the stairs. “I do think the costume contest is going to be a nailbiter this year.”

“ Dear Prudence…won’t you come out to play? “

wintersaurora​:

❅

Aurora gazed sidelong at Robin, feeling the way her tone almost taunted. She decided she wasn’t going to be baited, not now. Only inhaling from her nose and quieting as she drank. She wasn’t going to plead for information or guidance in a matter that she had already begun tonight and concerning a person that she had known since he was tall enough to reach her knees, when she had firm doubts that her friend knew his name or his story. Important as Raja had always been, Aurora had honored her promise and kept him far away from anyone in her world, save for herself. It had worked to keep him safe this long, at the very least.

She is taking a drag of her drink as Robin bows, putting on a show of annoyance. And she was abruptly forced to remember that, despite having known her for ages, Robin does not spend much time in her Court and none in her counsil. “Did you take my demanding tone for an order? Do you forget I don’t beat around the bush - if I wanted to use influence on you in any way, Robin, I would have said so very plainly and with indisputable meaning. And why would I do so when I’d known you long enough to ask?” She sighs and puts her empty glass on a passing server’s tray. “‘That is all’ is that is all I have to say and what you may do for him. As he’s my nephew and is not wholly aware of the circumstance that he’s in, that is my jurisdiction to decide. If you have a differing opinion, share it with the consideration that I will only hear nothing of him being harmed. Otherwise, share it. By all means, I have not stopped you from being honest as you know better than to stop me.” She beckoned another server with a full tray of drink. “I’m not your cousin, or aunt, or whatever Fen’harel is to you,” she said, glancing back at Robin as the server changed course towards them. “You don’t need to go trying to read between the lines.”

...

“Why else Aurora? Politics. I am well aware how things work, and I realize we are in a fairly tentative era for the Courts. It would not be unwise to ensure your position is cemented on people’s mind, simply to make it stronger,” the explanation leaves her with a shrug, as the spite leaves her as she puts the logic into words and it clicks as a possible reason. Robin is not quick to anger, but she is not one to back down in an argument, out of instinct. She enjoys arguments, enjoys arguing and teasing out ideologies and beliefs out of others and striking them down if they are wrong. And yet, she also enjoys being proved she is wrong and learning from it. This is not a fight she wants to have, not when she still doesn’t know what is happening in the Courts or in Rome. Not when in all things that matter, she tends to agree with Aurora. “I do apologize for the my reaction, the years apart have not made me any less confrontational.”

She follows Aurora’s lead, grabbing another drink and throwing it back before switching it with another. It won’t get her drunk, but the shock of alcohol going down her throat is enough for her to collect herself.

“And I am sorry for overstepping. The party might be a delight but I almost got a heart attack when I saw there were multiple mortals in a supernatural party,” her admission comes with a sigh, mind wandering to the mortal she had met a few years back. It is likely she would have the same reaction if she found him at the party, but what were the odds? Unlikely, as it was full of supernaturals in the first place. Then Aurora keeps talking and she snorts. “Read between the lines? I need to bring a damn microscope every time I want to try and talk to them. There are layers underneath the layers, and while that is sometimes fun, sometimes is plain annoying.”

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.

edeliexii​:

            But the specific community she’s discussing are the halfbloods. Granted, most of them probably wouldn’t want nothing to do with her after the transition, however Èdelie still stands proud as formerly being one. She adores their relatively small bond. What she didn’t like while being a halfblood is the constant confusion as to what to do and what not to do, or who she’s allowed to discuss her abilities with. There was no embracement; all that she’s known was self-taught or incorporated after the rarity of meeting one or two halfbloods throughout her lifetime. While thankful an obvious change is occurring, it shouldn’t take now for others to realize the detrimental harm embedded in past mistreatment of halfbloods. “I’m glad you’re able to acknowledge inclusivity is needed. It would’ve meant a lot to me had I still been one of them.” She doesn’t want anyone to think her fight for halfbloods equates to dissatisfaction as a fey, either. Losing former weapons such as sharing the tongue of animals may have been unfortunate, but taking the time to not only relearn that but the realm of feys has been treasurable. Èdelie doesn’t take of this for granted, using her free handle to fiddle with chocolate locks as her chewing slowed. 

                 “I mean, hey,” Èdelie began to advise, serene at this point. “It doesn’t hurt to try. There’ll be no issue if clear communication is put in tact; age doesn’t really affect the matter at hand.” If halfbloods choose not to mingle with feys tonight, needless to say… Èdelie wouldn’t be surprised nor fault them considering the lengthy hassle to gain representation.

...

“Darling, I have a PhD in Governance from an American university. Equity and inclusion might not be a part of the curriculum exactly, but I wasn’t discouraged from taking the classes or doing my own research, I have seen the data.” And what data. The studies had not accounted for supernatural differences, of course, but it was a rather fascinating thought exercise to extrapolate from one to the other. Of course, she couldn’t make a one by one comparison, and there is many psychological differences based around immortality and the like, but there is no denying that diversity of thought lead to innovation. Romulus, the Tinkerer, many others embodied this realization, and supported her conclusions. Now, if only prejudices could be overcome. Sadly pettiness is rather common both amongst her kind and other species. Perhaps something to do with having so much power on their hands. Who knew? “It is kind of you to still think of halfblooded even now, not many else would have done it if they were in your place.”

“And try I will to talk to the halfblooded, I can promise that much,” she finally relents with a nod. She can do that much, after so many years away from the walls of Rome. “And to talk to those who are older, and yet, I cannot quite agree with you. Many of the older generation are rather adamantly against mortals and halfblooded alike.”

who?@edeliexii where? ballroom

"How is immortality treating you, darling? I am sure it's quite the adjustment," there has not been a moment throughout the party in which she had not had a drink on her hand, and this time she brings a mojito to her lips as she asks the winter eladrin. "I am sure your new tolerance against human alcohol is a bit of a bother, is it not?"