eachdraidh | vii. unseelie locked. voice.

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vii. unseelie locked. voice.

I need extra hands for seasonal work, mages in particular; mages who can work with heat and fire, all the better. Or weather, shit. This cold is slowing down work at my spire; the Ninth, up on the coast, devilish cold even without the Roc's influence. We lost a young man to it yesterday. I need ice melted, walkways made safe, snow shovelled, water heated, just more people.

Coppers for ordinary workers, silvers for mages, as well as all my very tenderest and heartfelt sentiments of good will. Do something drastic and lasting and we'll discuss gold.

[LOG POST.]

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You don't happen to have means for instant transportation, do you? I can help you with what you need, but I'm not exactly close to where you are.

What about heat and metal?

There's a fairy ring here; if you're close to one, ask it for Srathmarbh.

Otherwise... [He makes a tch'ing sound, thoughtful.] Potentially. Where are you and how useful do you propose being?

[Blunt, but he's busy as hell; puca are quick, not instantaneous, and a ride out to collect her could take anything from ten minutes to a couple of hours.]

Under your control, I presume?

Very godsdamn welcome. I can deal with halted construction work, but if what we've been building comes apart under the winds or is battered down by hail... There are tin roofs here, iron support struts inside the spire, a lot of scaffolding I can't afford to lose.

Of course. I can manipulate and control metal, hold it down, shape it, move it... Anything you might want. Tin and iron is child's play. I also a rather fine gift from the monarchs that allows me the same control over fire.

[ there's a soft laugh from her ]

Looks like I might be up there sooner than I planned. I know a mage who's good with fire.

I'm in Nimh Gleanne, closest to the seventh spire. If my notes aren't outdated, the closest available ring is at least a day's travel. As for my usefulness.

( she flicks the locket to its visual function, and points it toward a very welcoming, and warm, looking fire. ) I'm a Sorceress of Caer Scima. And I'm very good with fire. ( she holds her hand out toward the blaze and it flares up, nearly catching the ceiling of her tent. ) If that helps you make a decision.

You godsend. How soon can you be here? I may be able to offer help with transport.

What's your scaffolding like? How about the workers shoes? The right equipment goes a long way.

Godsfuck, I'm beginning to suspect you should govern here and not me. How are you so unendingly useful?

If you've any mind to come up, you would be welcome.

A few hours to get to the nearest fairy ring. [ A pause. ] I can fly, it shouldn't take long.

'Ramshackle but effective' and 'of varying quality'. Why?

[There's an intent interest in his tone. It's not something he'd considered. Foolish of him, not to think longterm.]

Are these things you might correct?

[Of course he can fucking fly. Who is this person? The Brucolac's caught between amused and impressed.]

And what name should I expect to hear?

[ The Unseelie's best kept secret. ]

Erik Lehnsherr.

[...]

Give me a few hours.

[Fair enough.]

Stay warm.

( l o l )

[Perhaps two hours later, the sound of hooves and smell of burning rings through Nimh Gleanne, and an awful, caterwauling voice snarls,] Here she is she's here, that little sorceress you were hunting. Hiding in the trees. Can taste her brain. All her bad fears and nightmares. Fucking witches!

[To which the reply comes, in the rough, hoarse voice she had heard over the network earlier:] Calm your godsdamn tongue, Accalon, and quit your bragging.

[They come into view, a great black horse-shaped thing with a smoky mane, its hooves aflame with purplish fire; astride it, the Brucolac, who flashes a fang in a crooked smile.] Sorry for my mount's...ah, just sorry for all of it.

( cassie hears the hooves before the voice, but she reacts to the first, menacing voice. she makes no hesitation to step out into the open. there's a flicker of fear inside of her, but she doesn't allow the instinctual darkness to flood her bloodstream. thanks to waver, she's got a much better hold on the dark magic. it's a fight-versus-flight response. her jaw is tense and she's prepared to roast a bitch alive, but the second voice staves off the need.

she relaxes, but not entirely, and the smile she offers is tense. )

I'd hardly call brain-tasting a bragging right. But it's no big deal. ( she eyes the whatever-the-fuck suspiciously. then she disappears inside of her little makeshift tent with a quick 'let me get my stuff', barely mumbled. taste her brain? what a freak.

most of her things are already together, but she has a couple of last minute additions to her small pack. it doesn't take long for her to dismantle the cloth from the tent. magic's awesome that way. she bundles herself accordingly, straps the bag to her back, and turns toward the fire. she holds her hand out toward it, open-palmed, and focuses. as her fist closes, so do the flames douse themselves. water seems to be drawn out of the ice and snow around them, turning to droplets, and she gathers them all up into one concentrated space to throw on the ashes. not that there's any risk of starting a fire in these woods, not with the weather this way, but she doesn't want to risk it.

cassie turns back to the brucolac and his weird thing, but she approaches slowly. )

It's not going to eat me, is it?

So if I pop in from time to time to do some good work, you'll pay me for it? [Hey, Jason had planned on doing that already. Earning some coin isn't such a bad thing.]

I might be able to make time for that. [Ariadne's already given him room and board, and he's granting her his loyalty.

But that doesn't mean he can go without money.]

I have a little fire power. It's in training, but I can see what I can do.

Because the better the work conditions, the better the work.

(He'd say more, but then there's the question, and maybe he can work this in his favour.)

I might, for the right price.

[Eh, sure, why not.]

If ya offerin', I suppose I could oblige ya. Though I'd settle for a place to sleep I ain't built myself.

[Standards: he has them. Though they're a bit lower than usual today, no offense. Besides, he's a familiar face.]

I will send Johnny Storm to Srathmarbh as soon as he is available and will be making my way there myself once I have finished seeing to the Second Tooth.

I'm no mage, but I can work.

[ yep! he's seen saber's offer -- ]

Let's go for gold, huh? I'm Johnny Storm.

'Eat you! Little witch, this one's in much greater danger of—'

Shut up, Accalon, [the Brucolac says, easy and calm,] you cock-gobbling nag. He won't eat you. [He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something he delicately unwraps...ah, it's a mint humbug. When he tosses it into the air, Accalon whinnies with pleasure and whips his head around to catch it, crunching it between sharp yellow teeth.

The Brucolac leans over and extends a hand.] Come on up. Sit before me, its safest. We'll ride to the nearest fairy ring and go from there. Ten minutes at most.

My name's the Brucolac, by the way.

Edited 2015-03-06 23:59 (UTC)

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vii. unseelie locked. voice.

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voice (to) video.

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- > action

action. i'm like sitting here wondering why i've never thrown cassie at him before this is glorious

no subject

voice

video; let's talk sorcery c:

Voice

voice;

video;

action. ikr, i'm enjoying this a great deal c: