first bull ( video )

[pontificus]

[When first brought here, she would swear it all a dream. All that they said and all that they have her on the feast could only be a parting gift from the gods, Bacchus' treats, Ceres' grief of losing a daughter, Diana's farewell for losing a maiden soon enough. But she wakes in her bed, rises and dresses. There is no man that lies with her, there is no parting.

So here she stays alone, save for those she's had the good fortune of meeting. One certain knight she least hopes to see again, though the dream has broken and with it holds the reality, her reality.]

It seems we are in no dream, for I have pinched myself enough to believe it real. I am Lucrezia Borgia of Rome, a place I have found little have heard of. Nor even of my name who I once held with Pope Alexander VI before he was called to be the Shepherd of all men's souls. [She still cannot call herself Sforza. That taste is too bitter in her mouth.]

I address this-- locket [Yes, it is even strange to her, and she must back up a little to see better now.] as a means of addressing this war. I know little on the matter of strategy and battle. My brothers have been taught the skill of the sword, and yet here I am in their place.

A friend-- [For she would consider all those kind to her the night of the feast a friend.] --relayed the thought that perhaps those like I are here for morale, but truly this many ladies?

I shan't sit around. [Lucrezia may not be the Harold of charities she will become, but idleness here does her little.] I wish to make myself of use, though for what I am unsure.

I do truly hope to meet you all, and already call myself fortunate in those I have met. Good day.

Forge One - (Audio)

[bullhorned]

[The forge had echoed loudly from the sound of hammer on steel. Such had been the case for a week now, ever since Gendry had discovered the forge and learned he had the freedom to use it and its materials. He had fallen in love immediately. At the Crossroads, he had suffered a shambling forge that he'd had to largely put back together himself. The forge in Harrenhal had been better, but he was one of many who worked it. Tohbo Mott's own forge came close, but it lacked the size of this one. It was expertly crafted and spoke of a skill he could only imagine. His old master had talked of the forgs in Qohor and Volantis and how great they were. He could only imagine them being like this one.

And so Gendry had set to work. His half finished sword was completed. The blade was made sharp and glimmering. He did not bother himself with anything but the most basic of hilt and crossguard. Why should he? The sword had been forged from the only steel he could acquire. Now he had superior metal to work with and he imagined how he might forge himself a sword of the finest steel as could be found. And then, armor. A new helmet. Greaves, gauntlets, breastplate, pauldrons, and gorget. And why not? They were generous in their provisions and Gendry though to himself that when he had finished, he would look more a knight than even Ser Loras Tyrell. And then he would be more than just King Robert's bastard son born in Fleabottom. He would be a self made knight, secure and confident in his own armor.

A week in the forge. Drenched in sweat and smoke, with nothing but a damning heat as company. It suited him fine. He was hard at work creating a new helmet, after all. Indeed, he was so utterly devoted to his craft that he had not even returned to his bedchambers. He found the hard ground of more comfort than the feather soft bed provided to him and the distant heat of a cooling forge like a friendly reminder of home. And though he could not claim to have friends among his fellow arrivals, there were at least people of note that concerned him. Even if some, like Arya Stark, thought him as little more than a stranger.

And so he tried the locket.]

[Audio]

I found a forge. A good one. Better than any I've ever seen, at least. These fairy folk might be a queer sort, but they make for fine things. So I've been doing the same.

[He paused and wondered at his own message. Did he want to offer to craft armor and swords for others? No. And certainly not for charity. He only wanted to arm himself and make himself a knight. Once he had, he'd only need the forge to maintain what he already had or replace what might be damaged. So he keeps himself from offering something foolish.]

If there's other smiths about, you might find the place of use. [And then he lingers after that, unsure if more should be said. And so stupidly he can be heard lingering. Breathing.

And then it cuts out.]

[Afterwards, Gendry resumes his work at the forge, where he has discarded his shirt and set himself to the first steps of his new helmet.]

(ooc: prose and brackets are both welcome.)

[VIDEO] 9 April [SEELIE] A Call to Arms [OPEN]

[waterbearer]

[ The video is aimed largely past the speaker, to the twichting-writhing forms of three snake-like horned-creatures, the crackles of electricity still racing across their scales as they move. The locket is likely proper up on a rock or tree somewhere, as the speaker is turned to face the worms, his arms up and tattoos glowing electricity crackles from his hands. He is standing on land near a small river-stream near farmsteads. ]

Attention.

I am Kaldur’ahm, recently brought here with the rest of you. I was exploring the rivers and streams nearby and found that several had been blocked by these creatures, and that they were attacking the farms homesteads.

[ One of the worms seems to recover from the temporary paralysis, and lunges towards Kaldur, who leaps away and grasps two devices firmly in his hands. He jumps up again slams downwards on its tail with a water-formed spiked mace, inadvertently severing part of the tip from the worm. He bats the rest of the worm back further away and continues. ]

I am requesting assistance. Several of the civilians have been bitten, and are displaying signs of being in a critical condition due to the creature’s venom. I have been attempting to combat these worms for a few hours, and they grow more resistant to my electric paralyzation with each attempt I try.

[ The severed tail-end starts wriggling violently, and he forms a sledgehammer to knock it back several yards, closer to the still-paralyzed worms. ]

They are quick to regenerate from severed pieces, like echinoderms.

I need those who can help me combat these creatures and those who can help transport the injured to the castle, as well as individuals to help care for those injured by the worms.



{{ooc: The four first comments titled as "Alpha Squad", "Beta Squad", "Gamma Squad" and "Support Team" are for the 'action' part. (Where I will also attempt to GM as worms if people so desire). Feel free to answer the comm itself before immediately jumping into action, or to handwave being assigned to the team you are on and head straight for the action, as well as forming your own little threadlines!

They are more for organization purposes and keeping your squad-mates straight than anything else, and any number of threads can be started below the heading!

NOTE: IC'ly, the Squad assignations are happening on the spot.}}

[Video] Arrival of A Terminator

[unclebob]

[At first glance, the face on the screen looks handsome, though perhaps a little intense. Staring off into the distance, the Terminator holds the locket in a fragile grip, like he’s afraid he might break it. Then he turns his face into the camera’s view and the once-handsome features turn into a nightmarish looking visage. The right side has mostly been ripped away, revealing the metal skull and glowing red eye beneath the bloody organic covering. He looks like he's been put through the ringer and no mistake. A fairy hovers in and out of the video, occasionally perching on his shoulder. He keeps shrugging it off. With only one working hand, he can't swat the little pest away.]

Is this device working properly?

[He doesn't wait for an answer. If it is working correctly, he'll know soon enough by the response he gets. The Terminator stares off again, turning the locket so that whoever’s watching gets a good shot of what he’s staring at: the flowery barrier between the Station and the rest of the Drabwurld.]

I cannot cross.

[His voice is flat, but underneath, there’s a current of wonderment. He’s never found anything able to keep a Terminator in check before. To have it happen now is a curiosity that he wants to explore further. He takes a few steps more, until he’s right at the edge of the line, but he doesn't cross over. He's had enough of the sensation of glitching and his systems shutting down for one day, thank you very much. He stands there, far too still to be natural, like he's waiting for the barrier to just disappear and let him cross. Hey, in this place, anything could happen.]

Video - Seelie/Unseelie

[withbite]

[Drabwurld is treated to the sight of one Damon Salvatore, peering into the locket to make sure it was on, giving it a testing tap just because.]

Testing, testing... is this on? Really? Lockets aren't really my style. I'm more of a ring kind of guy.

[This isn't locked to just one side or the other, or anyone in particular since he's no notion of who's here, other than the few from the feast he'd met.]

Now that I have your undivided attention, I need to address a concern of mine. I have... certain dietary requirements that need to be met and I need volunteers. Well, I don't really, but I'm more curious as to who might be willing to offer a little of themselves here and there. The more the merrier, since I can be quite... insatiable, depending on my mood.

[Or how injured he might be. Or angry. Or... whatever. Damon leaned towards the mercurially mooded type, so it really depended on the day. Or minute.]

Nice little infestation you have, by the way. Good to know even fairies have pests. Giant worms. How... cute.

[He doesn't even attempt to hide the eyeroll, but he does end the transmission with a little wave and a smirk.]

Serious offers only. I'm not here to answer all your questions and do tricks for people who are bored. You want entertainment? Go piss off the minotaur.