eachdraidh | hermionenet / seelie locked

HERMIONENET / COMPASSES

To anyone that owns a device that can read this notice:

Please return your device to me for additional protection and charms. This won't come with any charge, but it is something that needs to be done. It will make it so that no one but you can use your device and, should it be stolen, it will turn into a harmless little lump of fool's gold, with a promise of a replacement from me if you need it.

If you can't come to me personally for any reason then, please, let me know. I'll do my best to either visit you or send you information on the runes for you to perform yourself. Thank you.

SEELIE LOCKED

[ The video feed shows a harried, tired looking Hermione sitting behind her desk, head held high as she smiles, leaning forward. ]

As always, if anyone is in need of potions or charmed, protective cloaks for the upcoming battles, let me know. Artefacta will be happy to provide them, and we can enchant items you already own as well. Just let me know through your lockets and I'll arrange it all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's hard to accept a gift given freely, and he takes back the knife to tap it against his hand. He stares at one side of the blade, then the other. He has no idea what these runes are- just that he has to trust that they will work.]

Thank you.

[He'll go ahead and accept it as a gesture of kindness. Though subconsciously her knows he'll have to find a way to pay her back one day.]

This probably sounds stupid, coming from someone like me. [Someone who has a scar through his eyebrow and flecks of damage from grenades. Someone who has a hardened face that looks older than it's thirty years just because of the strain of war and constant conflict and hard work. Someone like him.] Why is there no way to compromise this? No middle ground?

[ Hermione just smiles, nodding her head as she looks down at the knife. It should only work for him, now, and if the protection runes help keep it together and keep him safe... Well, she's done her job. ]

You're welcome.

[ Not that she would accept the returned payment, of course, but all the same... The question doesn't surprise her too much and she breathes out, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes. ]

Because it's a war that's been going on for thousands of years, a war that will define the future for every single world. If there was a compromise it would have been found already.

Everything always defines the future of the world, doesn't it? These are old and bitter people, I think. Those are what usually keep wars going.

[He sounds disappointed, on one hand believing her and on one hand not. Maybe a combination of the two. Wars can go on that long, hate can last generations. It can blind the young, because all they see is through the eyes of the old. There might be ways to fix it- he's always believed there's a way to fix any conflict. But he also knows there is no initiative to get away from it when it's an old war. Hate is too easy, compromises too much effort. A quick fix solves all, and better for soldiers to understand.]

[The war has turned him int a bit of a cynical asshole.]

[Working for money has always made more sense to him, because he knew how stupid he was to believe what he was told when he was younger. Maybe it is true that everything depends on it.]

I know that I am not a good person to decide the fate of my world. And as far as I know? Neither is anyone here. But I will do what I can to keep it going. [He sheaths the knife. After she went through the trouble of protecting his knife, he needs to assure her that much.] That much I do believe in.

But this - this really is the future of our worlds. The Drabwurld is the origin of everything, the shards inside of us a part of one that was whole here, once upon a time. This war will literally define the future of our worlds.

[ She lets her eyes gaze at him for a long, drawn out moment before she shits back and lifts her head. Her expression is soft, trying to wrap her mind around explaining everything she knows before she smiles again, tilting her head up to look at the man once more.

Hermione doesn't want to be cynical, but - it's getting harder and harder. ]

You're new, and I understand that - but... There are lots of things to do here, lots of things that could help. You don't have to fight if you don't want to.

I don't like when people are forced to fight. But is shitty of me just to let people who don't fight get their asses kicked. I can't do magic, but I can still do a lot.

[More than shoot, anyway.]

And that is something admirable. Making sure that people that can't fight are safe...

[ She nods. ]

I was known as a Protectress, once. I want people safe.

[And that's where the language barrier kicks in. He doesn't register it as a title.]

I didn't know that there is girl version of protector in English. I know hero and heroine, and I know actor and actress. But that is strange. There is no doctor and doctress.

I don't think.

[Give him a moment, he's thinking really hard about that.]

It was just a title. I'm not sure how complete a word it is.

[ Her eyes flick up and she smiles at him. ]

I'm Lioness Courant now, though. I'm just the person that wants to protect the people I care about and the people around me.

That's a pretty smart way to be.

[He says as if he doesn't sometimes help out random people. Sometimes. Unfortunately he's hurt too many for it to make up for anything, and he's not successful enough defending those he loves to consider himself any sort of protector.]

[But still, he does think that's the smart way to go.]

Hopefully they will give me a real word for a title one day.

Do you think someone here could make it so my arrows are ah... like they are drugged with something? Or would I have to go searching for things to make that happen. Ingredients.

It's who I am. It's not smart, it's just me.

[ She knows she's smart, of course, but that doesn't lend itself to being a good protector - she had seen that too. She would like to think it's her heart that makes her a good defender of the people, not simply that.

Still, she tilts her head up, pausing to consider for a moment. ]

I can make a sleeping draught that you could put on the tips. There... Are some plants here that are poisonous, I could show you those, but I don't know how to make the poison.

It seems smart to me, but if you say so. [Again, it's not personal- Niko's been accused of being stupid so many times in his life due to his lack of formal education (and despite the fact that he can speak three languages and is an expert in a lot of weapons and vehicles) that he has trouble telling what is an intelligent logically concluded course of action and what is morally correct.]

[But his morals have always been a little wobbly- his principles are a different story.] Is a good idea, anyway.

But yeah, I would like that. [He hesitates like he was going to say something, but does realize that Hermoine looks like a polite girl, like the old vacationer type back in the rural Balkans, the ones that came in from England. He should probably not crack jokes like, "Better than accidentally wiping your ass with it!". His smile is brief and unsteady after that comment.] Ah.... yeah. Especially since I've been living way out there. Good chances to collect.

Well, thank you. [ Nodding her head, she looks up at him and lets her eyes dart over him before she settles herself. She moves, putting her things away and adjusting her cape, even as she puts her wand up her sleeve and tightens her belt, the two swords there resting gently. ]

I'll bring you some as soon as I can, or have someone deliver them. If a man with blond hair starts flirting with you, that'll be Galan - just ignore him. [ She shakes her head, pursing her lips before she turns her gaze down to the area around her. Reaching into her bag - elbow deep, thank you magic - she pulls out some parchment and a quill and shifts, using her leg as a desk to write on. ]

I'll draw and label the plants for you. Most of them are familiar from other worlds, but some are Drabwurld things that I've experimented with. [ She sketches the flowers and writes their names and effects that she's aware of before she breathes on it to dry the ink. Standing, Hermione offers the parchment to him. ] Here.

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