VIDEO | UNSEELIE LOCKED

[selfimage]

[ it's Loki! he turns his head for a moment before focusing back at the locket, his chin is resting on his hand, and his elbow on a desk. he gives a friendly wiggly-fingered wave, holding the locket with the other hand. ]

Hello. Story time, anyone? Some of you have already heard this one before, and I hate to tell it again, but bear with me, there are some interesting deets that most usually lack.

[ and then, he starts in his best storyteller voice, playing with words on his tongue and in a certain cadence. ]

There's a place known as Asgard aka the Realm Eternal. Asgard, in all of its glory, rests in the branches of the World Tree, up near the tippy-top. This place is the home to the gods. The nine realms below it are homes everyone else: storm giants, frost giants, angels, elves of the most annoying sorts, some humans, dwarves with bearded faces, etcetera etcetera. Inter-realm relations are always tenuous at best, someone is always fighting someone else over blah blah blah. There are even wars over dumb squabbles, and you'd think that the only way anyone could solve a problem is with an axe to the face.

However—cue the dramatic music—there was only ever one war to end all wars: Ragnarok. [ he draws a circle in the air with a dark nailed finger.

it's a funny thing to call something "the such-and-such to end all so-and-so," because it generally comes up again and worse somehow. there are lots of wars to end all wars, ends to end all ends, but it does make everything sound more dramatic. ]

In short, Ragnarok was a fated event and the Gods of Asgard were always finding new ways to try and stop it. [ a pause and he scratches the back of his head. ] Actually—erm, hold on just a sec. Let's rewind just a little bit. This Ragnarok, this "end of all ends" and "war to end wars," kept happening. Over and over and over again. The gods would get caught up in the same pattern, and boom! another Ragnarok. Even if details differed, everyone would fight and suffer and die just like the last time. [ then his hands come up in wonder! ] And then be reborn! Ta-dah! It would start all over again. More Ragnarok and more betrayal.

It's like they were stuck, and they were. Fate was using them, and just as many other things in this cosmos, someone found a way to take advantage of it. They stopped it eventually, and cut the threads of the tapestry that the Norns had woven. Those that had fed from their suffering were extinguished. [ and as an aside, he says: ] Or so they say. Who knows what happened to them?

And thus, the gods won their free future. Dancing ensued, parties happened, drinks were passed around, and everyone lived happily ever after. [ he lets out a breath and looks bitterly amused. ] Or so you'd think. But, hm, let's say—they kind of did. Here's the part they don't tell you, the epilogue: they didn't want it. They broke free from the horrors of Ragnarok only to find themselves at a loss. In their freedom they lacked security, so they forged themselves other chains of destiny.

[ he waves his hand and sits back in his chair, bringing the locket with him. ] There you have it. It's not like stories like that haven't been told a million times, but it does beg the question: are some events only deemed the "natural order" because they've happened so many times before, becoming a favorite trope of the cosmos? Perhaps fate would have us think so.

[ there's a pause. ]

Ah, well, enough of that for one day. I could use a pint of ice cream and a good romcom.

tenth bull ( video )

[pontificus]

( Seelie )

[She sits in the courtyard of the Fortuna mansion, her back to building itself. There are guards that can be seen from the corners of the video, though she doesn't pay them any mind. It is something she has long since been used to. Instead she addresses the locket gracefully, her chin pointed down.]

I understand that I am addressing my own court, and as such that mostly means shardbearers. I would consider you all allies, and in turn that means that I, too, would do as I can to help. But I must speak on matters that seem to darken my fair city of Treun.

[Her words are thoughtfully chosen, and despite the sternness to her voice, the meticulousness of how she speaks, Lucrezia as always has a softness to her.]

There are some, perhaps in the other court or shardless, that judge Governor Fortuna for his status here in the Drabwurld. That his supposed ties to the Seelie court do him more harm in a city where being one of the sharded is now a hated thing.

[Her jaw tightens, voice becoming lower.]

These threats do not scare me. I am a Borgia of Rome before I am a Fortuna of Treun, and I have learned to be hated for a name, a thing I cannot help. But I am Fortuna, and the Governor has always been kind to me. So I stand with him even in this time. I would hope the same goes for any Seelie, but especially for those in Treun.

Should any find themselves in need of aid, please contact me. I include those of you who have fled from Leathann.

[Lucrezia gives a solemn nod of her head before ending it there.]