eachdraidh

[She looks a bit rushed, but gentle nonetheless, pleased to address the shardbarers. Hands folded gently in front of her, Lucrezia speaks.]

As some may know, I've lived in Treun for a time, even being adopted into the Fortuna family. Many have spoken about the concerns of anti-shardbearer sentiments, and I, too, have had them on my mind for some time. A dear girl has come to me here in this city. With our two minds we have come to a conclusion, to give back to the community to show our goodwill.

[She seems all too eager for it, having talked to some about the subject.]

At the end of the month, we are to have a fair in this great city where any shardbarer can come to offer his wares or services. It will take place in the market.

I hope to see many there.

[With a bow of her head, she shuts the locket.]

impathy

[Open]

It's a fine day for sunshine. I find myself pitying those who choose to live beneath stones and only play at seeing sunlight. The real thing is not so easy to replicate. It seems to be getting warmer as well. Summer Is Coming, as they might say in my own Westerlands. If there is anything to love about this world, it is the peculiarly short seasons. It is a strange thing to have them all wrapped up in one year. I find myself wondering how it is you're able to keep track of them when they each go by so swiftly. It is near spring, but I'm told it will only be a few months long with more certainty than even the wisest maesters can manage - and this from an ill-bred soldier with scant few hairs on his lip.

I will say this for the south, however. It is blessed with very few imps.

[Locked to the Unseelie]

I've spent an uncomfortably long time in Seelie lands these past few weeks, though I am to understand a fairy ring is not so far off ahead of me. Would that we had such things in my own seven kingdoms, I might have done a fair bit more traveling. Though I confess I find it terribly disappoint how utterly small this world is made out to be. Is it truly a void beyond the oceans? I would imagine that it could not have always been that way. Certainly there had to be something far off out there, beyond where ships are able to reach.

In any case, I do have a point beyond the tedium of long riding. My name is Tyrion Lannister, which may not merit much weight here, but I was known as the King's Hand and the Master of Coin where I was from. I excelled in both duties and while I have no mind to butcher my features in further battles, I would see my skills put to proper use still. There is a certain spire that I feel might benefit from my talents and so it is there I mean to go. But I am given to understand there are a number of spires in all and would be only too glad to find other similar minded individuals to begin making certain investments. I do not yet have all my wealth at my disposal, but I promise you I always pay my due. A Lannister always pays his debts.

There is one other matter. Briefly for a time there were two of my kin here. My brother Jaime Lannister and my bastard nephew, Joffrey. Did anyone perchance to meet either of them? I know they are long gone from this world, but I would be interested to know if there was anything they might have left behind.

herotypical

[ bless her, she comes from a time before the selfie was adequately popularized. and yet buffy summers seems to have an instinctive knack for propped her locket up on her palm and holding it just so -- capturing her own ennui-stamped face in one corner and (over her shoulder) introducing the world to pretty little winter-blanketed river scene. one might assume she's in the vicinity of land carved out for his baronliness archer's spire and forts. hah. spire and forts. hello, innuendo.

anyway. she exhales with a puff of her cheeks and stares down the locket. you'd almost think there was no war at all by how little attention she pays it. purposefully, buffy seems to be ignoring the court drama as best she can. running away -- sour, perhaps, for a number of reasons. ] Some of you might've met-chatted-made-buddies with a girl named Dawn. She's gone. Sorry about that. [ and presumably that's why buffy looks like she's been mainlining angst straight into her veins.

otherwise: ] I need hammers. And...probably nails. Power drills will also be appreciated but I hear that might be a bit of a pipe-dream. We could also probably use pipes. I think.

See. This is why you gotta hate a war economy.

Oh! Those really really really big iron bar things. You know, the ones with the thin middles and the wide edges. The ones that co-star in all the wacky old school cool photoshoots hanging over city skylines...

[ but at least she's still bothering to help build unseelie fortifications. she's not ready to sally forth and kill, yet.

buffy's rambling. she tries to stop. except-- ] Wait! A few more things. Which one of you mooks is Professor Spaniard? The rest of you...I dunno -- be careful out there.
[ she went there. ]

burping

Not all of us who have been brought here are built for war. But that does not mean we lack battles to fight. We are needed on another front.

I have been tasked [ by Sir Lancelot] to garner goodwill between those of us who have shards and the shardless. Since our arrival, the moods of many have soured... [ Her lips press together in a grim expression.] To say the least. And we hope that we change that with good works or charity as some would call it.

I would have your suggestions or your help with mine, if you would give it.

truesight

--obody eat the meatpies!

[ guess who's just barely turned her locket on before shouting her Very Important Message at it? this girl. the only light in the room is a dim candle at the other side of the room and the glow of the video feed, but her eyes are still glowing a bit, a bright green, and she's obviously not in a trance but she totally just had a prophetic dream.

even if it is super.. vague.. ]

For the next - [ quick, math! ] - four days and three nights - [ thinkythink ] - not including this one, don't eat the meatpies. None of them. Not even a bite.

It'll kill you. Maybe.

[ her voice is still rough with sleep and she's got a dark red smudge on her cheek from where the heel of her hand was pressed to it when she fell asleep a few hours before, but. well. she seems totally serious. so, so serious about dem meatpies. ]

I don't know why and I don't know what causes it and I don't know who exactly could end up dead, but. Just to be safe, I'm going to say that nobody should eat them.

-- At least, I think it was a meatpie. It could have been any kind of pie, but they were little, you know? Those little personal pies they always have at the feast, and you can get them in the- you can ask for them anytime. [ wuhh she's tired. crashing fast, even as she's gesturing "LITTLE PIE, THIS BIG!!" with her hands at the camera.. ] I saw a people eating them, and then dropping dead. Quick flashes of it. No details. S'just- the pies.

Okay.

Going to go back to sleep now. But don't eat the pies.

[ sleepy nodnodnodnodnod, and then she's shutting off her locket. and she might not even remember this later, not in full detail, but. well. there's that. ]

[ ooc: this isn't actually anything ..important, I just wanted to futz with Rachel's canon abilities a bit here in a silly way. which I have a permissions post for here if anybody wants to actually have their character choke on a pie, hahaha. or whatever! always up for plotting vague vision things just to mess with characters' heads. could be important things, or silly things like this. but yeah. nothin' to read into here though, which is the main point of my ooc note c: ]

dawndiaries

[dawn has a fairly mixed expression of boredom and restlessness when the feed first turns on. see it's already been two weeks since her arrival and while she was initially nervous or otherwise cautious of all her surroundings and activity on the network at first, she's at the point where the boredom is unbearable.

so it's time to take matters into her own hands and find something fun to do. drabwurld, ready for some q&a?]

Okay, okay. I like that we can walk around freely and don't have to pay a dime for bed and breakfast or even some large bill for talking to people on this magical locket - but there's more fun things to do around here than that, right?

[she pauses, but then she feels she should elaborate further just in case.]

Stuff that teenagers do, I mean. Less mid evil training for fun and more twenty first century fun, like the places to shop or video games or whatever. Anything at all?

herotypical

[ and so the slayer cracks open her locket once again. not, as some might anticipate, to comment aloud about the woeful state of animal welfare in these lands (as others already have. instead, she has a far more personal bone to pick. some domestic fat to chew. ]

Uhm. Pop quiz: where's the best place in the Drabwurld to raise a...teenager? [ she almost says 'kid', but corrects herself at the last moment. last thing she needs is yet another i'm not a kid argument with dawn. ] You know. Temporarily. Until we find a way outta this Ren-Faire disaster. Until then, I wanna know it all. Crime stats; outlet malls; hip-but-age-appropriate dance clubs. Preferably the kind where they definitely don't serve minors. [ each item is ticked off on her fingers. ]

O-oh! And schools. Please tell me there's at least one rinky-dink town that includes whatever counts as high school's wacky medieval cousin. [ because dawn summers is not dropping out by default. or so buffy vainly believes. she just hopes there are no hellmouths lurking about to interfere with math class. ] Knowledge is power, right?

[ funny. she never cared that much about the plight of kidnapped teenagers before now. but with the sudden arrival of the little sister, everything's changed. time to settle down and find herself a dependable chore chart, figure out a good curfew, and start disapproving of all of dawn's new friends. ]

tacticalturtleneck

Look, let's make something clear here.

[DEEP BREATH.]

Killing other people? Who cares. I can name about a billion people who don't even deserve to take another breath.

Killing alligators and crocodiles? Wipe them out. What are they good for other than looking stupid and starring in movies that are only awesome because of the actors.

But...

But...

Killing the King of Beasts? Not cool at all. He's probably this super awesome creature who just wants to hang out, drink a beer, and have fun but nooooooooooooo. You idiots have to run around and act like he needs to be dead.

I don't want to hear shit about how it wants to be killed. Assisted suicide is sick! Just catch him and take him to a psychologist or something. Don't enable that kind of thing. It's racist...or something along those lines.

Jesus.

[Don't mind him as he drains this bottle of alcohol. A rant like that makes his throat dry, that's all.]

depicted

[A youth appears across the screen. He isn't quite comfortable with the device, holding it low and a little away from himself as one might a snuffbox or cigarette case when admiring the work in its design. Also, the image might be just a little shaky, but it's rude to comment on that. The boy musters a smile, an expression that seems to flicker in its uncertainty.] How do you do? I'm Dorian Gray—is that—is that how these are used? I'm so sorry, I can't tell if it is better to use one's manners for introductions or for telegrams.

[There's a fluttering laugh as Dorian tries to inexpertly use humour to diffuse the point. Of course, for lack of a person before him, the strategy doesn't actually make him feel any less awkward, so he tries to move to his reason for talking.]

I was wondering if there were any players here of chess? I mean to say, I'd like to play chess—not that I'm much good, of course, but I'm very much fond of the game—if there are players already and a third would interfere with things, I'd be very happy to just watch. If it isn't trouble. It is only with all of this talk of competing factions, I can't help but think of a game of chess, and it has made me crave the sport.

[Dorian's face falls as he turns the locket away, not in misery but in an awkward embarrassment, and there is the faintest start of a mutter at himself as he accidentally shuts it before he is finished his message.

Smooth move, Dorian Gray.]

[ooc: + permissions for fourth walling for any characters who would know the name]

withbite

[Hello there, Drabwurld. Have one slightly mussed vampire giving the locket a lazy smile. Is he calling from bed? Looks like. It may or may not be his own bed. Don't question that. Everything's covered, though, so no worries about scarring any delicate sensibilities.]

Some of you might recognize me, others might not. Either way, I'll keep this short and sweet. Since I'm back here again, I'm still going to need to fulfill those dietary requirements I mentioned last time. Which means donors.

[Not that he couldn't take what he wanted as he pleased, but he'd seen some of the things those here could do his last trip and the last thing he wanted was to find himself trying to have lunch with a witch and winding up with a few aneurysms for his trouble. Rude, witches.]

Again, only reply if you're either interested in offering or, I don't know, have a servant or whatever that's expendable. I'm not interested in playing twenty questions or show and tell.

[And that was as in depth as he planned on getting right now. People could offer or... he could get hungry enough to just take a risk and jump some hapless fairy. They were about the size of a juice box...]

bullhorned

Bloody fairies never manage to get things right, do they?

[Like many, Gendry received his boon two days ago, but he hasn't gotten any closer to making proper use of it. Oh sure, walking back and forth through a set of mirrors is a jolly experience, but it's a pain in the ass if they're both in the same room. Though he won't deny he did have a bit of fun setting them across each other and walking through the portal over and over. But! That's not what he'd wanted!]

Seems if you want something decent, you've got to be specific. Seven hells... [He has no choice! He must do the unthinkable:] Stiles, you still about?

[Yes. He must ask STILES for help. That most dreaded of occurrences! Sure, there might be other people who could teleport him from Cothromach to Troichean Beinn in a blink of the eye. But those are other people and Gendry's faith in other people is roughly equivalent to his faith in this war ending amicably. If he's called a suspicious bastard, then it is a one hundred perfect accurate description of him.

But the locket is still in his hand and he realizes he's addressing both courts at large. Damn.]

... just, be careful about your boons, eh? The fairies like to be stingy, if you let them. [There. He's done the community at large a favor.]

( Action Prompts (Cothromach) )

herotypical

[ the locket swings jarringly into action -- like a camera stuck to a pendulum, shuddering back and forth and only occasionally picking up a stern-eyed blonde. ] Ugh. Whose idea was it to glue a webcam onto a necklace--

[ there! steadied. there is first a grimace and then a forced smile and then a flutter of girlish eyelashes. ] First order of business? Those of you still bumming around the Station -- could you tell me how those repairs are coming along? I'm feeling a serious oncoming modernity craving. Like, a gallon of lattes and underwear that doesn't require learning whole new categories of knots.

Second: does anyone know how to make a quick buck outside shilling it for either court? [ she is not a fan of either of the caers. ] Preferably while also maintaining some facade of dignity.

And third and last but absolutely never least: does the name Sunnydale mean anything to anyone? Y'know, anyone other than the someones I've already talked with. [ hey! it's worth asking. doubly so now that it looks like she's here for the long(ish) haul. double ugh. ]

justwillow

Huh. This is kind of neat- little magic and it acts like a-

[Focus Rosenberg. You're stranded in a mystical realm with imps and faeries and all sorts of bad things could be happening back at the castle-- because who decided that would work? Having a bunch of slayers in a house didn't work out too well, So the logical conclusion was putting them in a giant castle with lots of weapons! Brilliant Idea.]

Uh, Hey! I'm looking for a girl named Buffy- Or any of the slayers. Buffy- She's about yay-big [She gesters to about her height.] Blonde, superhuman strength with killer fashion sense and a penchant for puns? I really hope she's here. Or uh-. A sarcastic British guy named Rupert Giles? Or Xander? He's a guy with an eyepatch. Kind of dorky but in an adorable way- Sorry Xander. [she mutters to herself] I'd even settle for Spike.

[She takes a few deep breaths. This was getting a bit too panicky. Calm down, calm down.]

Sorry for all the word vomit- I'm Willow. Willow Rosenberg. I guess I'm the newest contestant on this island.
Does anyone know anything about the energy here? It's kind of... abnormal.

alikeness

I'm looking for someone. [ no doubt, a tried and true phrase the lockets have played before. Connor tacks a piece of paper to the locket so that everyone can see his drawing of a demon. it's sketchy and messy, but a pretty good likeness considering he was being beaten up during his confrontation with it. guess he inherited one more thing from his father's side. ]

He's over seven feet tall and made completely out of stone. And he's mine. [ and by the look on his face and the tone of his voice, that clearly means MINE TO KILL >:[ !!!! but the sassmasters of eachdraidh are welcome to poke fun at him anyway. he lowers the paper, revealing the rest of him and the lovely decoration scheme caer scima's rocking. ] He'll try and kill you, but I don't have to really warn you guys about that, huh? From what I've heard of this place, that's what we're supposed to be doing.

[ killing each other!!! guess who hasn't been given the 'make love, not war' lecture of his life. there's no clear sign on his face that explains what he thinks of that exactly. He moves to turn off the locket and hesitates. ]

I want to know. [ how do I get out, who can I beat up right now, where can I find Angel -- ] Who's winning the war?

vrykolakas

[UNLOCKED: VISIBLE TO ALL.]

[Candlelight laps at the dim image of the Brucolac's face, showing up mottled scars along his cheeks. His expression is tired. Whether it's the light or exhaustion, his olive skin looks faintly greenish.]

Alyosha of Redgate is dead by the hand of Reynard the Fox.

[It's not a lie. She is exactly as deceased as he is. He sighs out a breath, tches faintly, and moves on, his hoarse, scratchy voice impassive.]

Unrelatedly, I require information on the thief who stole the feathers of the birdking. He wasn't found? Did anyone pick up a trail?

[He knows he wasn't found. Hence (partly) the current sticky situation he's in.]

[LOCKED TO UNSEELIE.]

I'm at Caer Scima.

[He hisses through his teeth, rubs his forehead; his head is pounding, thick knots of tension twisting in his temples, pain shooting down his neck, bursting behind his eyes, tightening his jaw. Bone-dry and grimly humourous, he says:]

If anyone, preferably human, feels they have a surplus of blood.

[That sentence is left unfinished, the conclusion—in his mind, at least—obvious.]

[LOCKED TO ALICE & BERSERKER.]

[Flatly:]

What the fuck happened.

- - - -

[ooc: I realised too late that dating it this way means it went up a few days before new arrivals, damn it! but PLEASE feel free to have any newbies reply a few days late, if you so wish. c: ]

atoned

[ zuko is not going to tearbend. ]

[ he may have found toph's shard, tucked safely away where no one, not even reynard, would be able to steal it, and her metal bracelet, worn around his thin wrist, but he will not tearbend. he knows what it means. toph never abandons him, not even when he's annoyed her until she starts calling him sparky just to see him grit his teeth and steam pour from his ears. toph's the one thing in drabwurld that actually stayed — and it's his fault she's gone. even though it's completely and utterly irrational, guilt eats away at him for leaving her alone, believing his own treachery to the unseelie court would only require him to complete a personal quest to see to it his honour is restored. but toph's gone — save for her metal bracelet, the one he never really had seen her take off. had they stripped her of that before they'd taken her, too? he doesn't plan on keeping her bracelet, determined to give it back to her once he finds her again. but it's better to be worn on his person than to be left in his suite, the imps' feet running closer and closer to his door with each passing day he lingers in drabwurld — either at the station or in caer scima. ]

[ his expression is a permanent scowl. two imps can be seen running from him outside the castle of caer scima, their behinds burnt and some of their hair still caught aflame. they keep shouting we don't know where toph is!, but it only seems to make zuko angrier, hands balling into tight fists. in toph's honour, he sends a blast of fire along the grass, slithering quickly toward them like a serpent, to see to it they shriek and jump high into the air. ]

Toph's gone. The imps didn't take her, but I don't believe them.

[ he's not sure what to even believe anymore. he can barely believe in himself, and that's already a can of worms he's trying to shove the lid back on. ]

[ petulantly, he utters, ] Whatever. [ it's not like it matters; he doesn't even know if anyone outside of those in the unseelie even know toph. do they just think he's saying tough? she'd laugh at that; he grits his teeth. anyone would find their life was made ten times better just by her being around. they'd arrived in drabwurld together, they were meant to leave together. ]

[ it appears as though he's about to blast a tree, or even his own locket, held as though another is merely directing it, but he doesn't. much louder, ] I hate this place.

[ and he leans forward to grab his locket and tosses it as far as he can, shooting a thick burst of flame at it as the imp that had been recording him scampers away, its body seen blurred by the camera tumbling into darkness. ]

[ for anyone at caer scima, zuko's in the bailey, sitting against a willow tree, sulking. either he wears his frown, arms crossed against his chest, or he's looking at his locket, as if contemplating burning it until it's ash, even though it seems almost indestructible against his fire. if toph were here ... well, she's not. and he's not chasing any imps or playing practical jokes (nor is he going to the feast later today to do such a thing) on anyone because of that very reason. ]

deadpoet

[The locket opens up to showing him in a bar. It's a well run place that seems fairly busy. Spike can be heard over the conversations in the background, but only just. Behind him is a pig-faced bartender who is probably less than pleased by a locket conversation in his bar, but hasn't gone to the trouble of turning it off. Spike hasn't been causing much trouble in Daonna since he arrived weeks ago to start living medieval style. He patrolled with the Slayer and though beasties weren't always common, there was no shortage of crime. It was work that didn't always pay well, but they'd collected one bounty that was keeping them fed and a roof over their head at the Sweet Sow.

And when he was peckish... well, the town was full of people that would never be missed, so long as they were never found. Spike was glad to be back on human blood again.]

This boon business is a big load of bollocks and I can't be the only one who thinks it. Collecting feathers for the king and queen? Here we are, shards rammed into our chests, and this is the best use they have for us? Bugger that and bugger them as well. Bootlicking might suit others, but it's never been the life for me, no matter what Crackerjack prizes they're offering.

So what I want to know is where we can get our goods without kissing their royal asses? There's got to be some witch or demon or the like handing out discount boons for a fee. Anything will do: it's got to be better than the cheap shite they threw at me last time. [A pouch of tobacco! For dealing with shadow beasties! Is it any wonder he didn't bother bending down to pick any feathers up?]

sundroplet

[ the feed opens to, well, rapunzel. remember? the girl with the braid? and while she had a braid going for her, now she can be seen doing cartwheels in the gardens of Caer Glaem and the braid is sort of coming apart.

she'll flop in front of the camera, all laughter and freckles ]

This is the best belated birthday gift ever! I don't get it, how come everyone don't spend all their days on the grass it's, it's - amazing!

[ moist and super fun to roll on but moving on ]

does anybody want to go tree climbing? running? jumping into a river or a waterfall - are there rivers and waterfalls here? and - mushroom picking? dancing? picking flowers? there's just - so much to do and I finally get to do all of that for the first time ever and I sort of wanted to know if maybe, sorta, you would like to join!

Oh and thank you to everyone who helped with the braiding thing.

[ even though her hair is loose and is everywhere now. ]

amplified

( there is an edge of panic to her voice, though she tries very hard to suppress it. she has clearly been crying, her makeup a streaked mess. behind her sit prada, and both of allison argent's hounds. )

What happens when a person leaves the Drabwurld? Where do they go? What happens to them?

( allison is dead at home. what does that mean? )

These dogs came to my door today. So I thought maybe they got away from Allison. They're hers. But no, I went to her room, and it's empty. It's like no one ever lived there at all... I can't reach her on the lockets, either. Allison Argent - has anyone seen her? If she's gone...

( she takes a breath to steady herself, licks her lips, tries to soothe her nerves. )

What happens to a person if they disappear from this world, but they've died in the world they're from? Because she's -- she's gone. ( then, in a quieter voice, little more than a whisper thick with emotion ) Stiles?

Allison's gone.

ex_audacity56

D'you reckon if I asked nicely, I could find some caramel biscuits 'round here?

[she starts off the recording unceremoniously, giving her locket a squinty sort of look. it'd be a lie to say she can pretend she's on the phone or a walkie, but least it's less weird. and considering she's walked into the fucking land of the fairies, she can do with less weird.]

I'm not fussed about the brand or nothing, but I don't want anything their sort makes. Couldn't compare to a freshly opened box of 'em, could it? The food's fine, but I want biscuits, not fairy dust. I know you can get loads of cakes if you ask, [which is dead strange] but I'm not talking about anything fancy. Bit too sweet, anyway, if you ask me.

[and then she exhales. magic lockets. now she's seen everything.]

This had better be working. If someone's having me on about these stupid things — don't suppose they'd come with instruction manuals.

[now she just sounds like her dad, but at least she can decipher one better than he can.]

Entries tagged with buffy summers: btvs

ninth bull ( video )

video » One Penny

(third stake) video ✧ unseelie only

video »

video ]

first entry ✎ video ✎ both courts

(second stake) video ✧ open to both courts

video; Open to all

video ∞ both courts, dated to Dec 2nd

Video - Unseelie/Seelie (Post-dated to the 2nd)

Forge Three - (Audio/Action)

(first stake) video ✧ open to both courts

~ One Magical Mishap ~ [Video,Open to both Courts.]

[video] open to both courts

iii. video. open, then unseelie-locked. backdated to the end of september, ~29-30th

2 ☼ video / open to both courts

First Stanza - [Video] (both courts)

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛs )

fourth scream ♚ video ♚ both courts ♚ locked so the alphaaaa can't see bc he doesn't need to know

voice ▶ open to seelie and unseelie ▶ forward-dated to after the feast

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