eachdraidh

[A little after ten in the morning, Waver’s face is on the network again. Behind him is the same inn from the last broadcast, and he remains as cool and stern faced as ever. His voice is calm as he speaks, with just a hint of authority to make it at least seem like things are under control.]

Good morning. We have received intel from within Redgate, and the objective of what is to be done to help it has changed. Those who went into Redgate first have since been dropped into the waters off the coast of Leathann. We have confirmed this both by scrying, and attempting locket communication which has only given us the sound of water. It is at the request of Redgate’s temporary administration that we find those missing, and get them onto dry land.

With that in mind, I propose the following: if someone is capable of bringing a map of the area between the Shipyard ring, Leathann, and the main continent with longitude and latitude clearly marked, we can determine exactly where those missing are. With that information in mind, we will ask those who can teleport or else fly to enter that area and locate the individuals.

Meanwhile, we will request that anyone who can access ships, or else provide a vessel of some sort enter the waters to act as a rendezvous point. If those flying or teleporting can’t carry more than one person with them, this will be key in getting everyone to dry land.

For all of this to work, I need that map sooner rather than later. Please.

Those who can offer the ability to teleport, please arrive here. Those who can fly, I ask that you get into the area and be on stand by - coordinates will be given to you the minute we have them. Those who have water and ship access, I ask that you do the same - head into the waters, and be on standby.

A list of names will be available to those involved in the rescue mission. Otherwise I would rather protect identities involved.

Thank you.

Private, to Rin

I’m staying in Daonna to administrate. There wasn’t a chance of me going into Redgate to begin with, there were plenty of other people more qualified than me. Sorry for making you worry.

vaccinations

( cut for length and some mentions of violence )

Ellie exhales and stands. It was a dream. It was a fucking dream. This place was just fucking with her. She wasn't back home. She was still in wonderful, magical, fucking fairy land. She spits. The taste of blood is strong in her mouth from where she bit her tongue after being knocked to the ground. In her right hand, is still her pistol. Slowly, cautiously, she pulls the trigger. The barrel clicks empty.

She kneels and grabs the locket that had fallen out of her pocket in the struggle. She was painfully aware of the fact that it was on. She looks straight into the camera, as if daring anyone to ask what that all was, and asks-

"So. Forget magic and fairy shit for a second. Where can I get some more bullets?"

firith

[ Thranduil hasn't vanished off the face of the Drabwurld again, contrary to popular belief, despite keeping his head down since Samhain. Ensconced in the Caer Glaem library pulling up certificates, maps, and all the other ridiculous paraphernalia required for a legalised contact to take place, he flicks on the locket from his desk in a corner of the vast halls, surrounded by stacks. There he sits sipping a goblet of the last keg of leftover Dorwinion ~~which is currently under strict guard in the cellars (looking at you Samhain revellers)~~. On the table are scrolls and books, all of which have been tidied, while in front of him lies a black leather-bound folder, ostensibly containing the point of the broadcast. ]

The High-King and I have come to an arrangement. In exchange for fair recompense, I have bought the rights to the woodlands south of the forest river and west of the Hidden Falls, within a crux of the mountain-range, to be easily identified on any common map. [ It's not quite as simple as that, of course, but he'll save everyone the pointless politicking. That, and he doesn't want to bring up Celegorm's shard in public; it would be bad taste. ] Aelfen and Elven tribes alike will be travelling to Caer Glaem over the next week or so to replenish their supplies, tools and gold, well within their rights to do so, before continuing on to their new homeland. Please show these former refugees every kindness.

[ As dapper as he looks, he clearly doesn't intend to faff about chatting idly about inanities; someone wants a nice long sleep. ]

If you have business in what will be renamed the Maechenibryth, come the turn of the winter season, or have done in the past which you wish to pursue in the future, you may bring the matter to myself, Thranduil, or to my son, Legolas, who will pass it on accordingly. There is much yet to do and I have little enough time to spare.

[ Sipping his wine, he shuts off the locket. ]

( ooc: if you'd like to continue anything from samhain just pop me a pm and i'll get on it, otherwise i'll take this opportunity to declare tag amnesty on that front as it broke my inbox and burned me out, sobs. tagging will generally be slow until after the weekend because of work. ty for waiting! )

all7seas

Captain Jack Sparrow, during the Samhain Festivities, rather surprisingly found himself transformed into a unicorn: a magnificent black beast with a shimmering horn, mane and tail flowing like molten gold, and lovely beads and trinkets threaded through his twin beards.

Very frightening for the ladies, really.

Apart from being the lap-unicorn of one Veronica Mars -- whose boon he unwittingly is -- the pirate has been attracting virgins from around the Drabwurld. This has been highly inconvenient and is actually starting to get annoying. He has been clippity-clipping hither and yon on his fancy hooves, looking for a cure for unicorns. Desperate, really. He hates being a unicorn. Rum makes him sneeze and he misses the Pearl and he has a strange and terrible instinct to be Good. To rescue maidens from highwaymen and engage in sword-to-horn battles for righteous causes. To cure ills with his magnificently long and virile horn. To learn the art of flower-crown weaving.

It's warring with his desire to pillage and plunder and generally be completely knavish. Where will your character encounter the piratical mythological miserable happy rainbowly heroical beast?

smithwork

[ Look at this, it's Hiccup and Toothless by one of the heavily laden feasting tables. The latter's big head is napping on his rider's lap, sleeping off the sudden intake of thirty fish, and it looks like people recently decimated the fresh plates of food. ]

Dear Jon Snow, thank you so much.

Thank you for agreeing to meet us for dinner at a specific time and place, and then standing us up by vanishing off the face of the earth. This has been a super fun time. Please know we waited a whole hour and a half before giving up on you and tucking in, and will likely never consent to hanging out with you again. You're a terrible friend, your time-keeping leaves much to be desired, and Toothless thinks you're the one who needs to beef up more. You are a living treasure, goodbye. This is the end of our friendship.

If anybody happens to see Jon lurking around, looking shifty as usual and maybe even guilty, let me know? I may or may not have saved his direwolf one of the pork chops before everyone else tucked in.

desperate_times

So the moon is back in the sky, it seems.

That was a lot of fuss for nothing, wasn't it? Running around in caves...racing about chasing the moon... it's funny, in a way.

Chasing the moon is an old phrase. It represents an impossible dream. You can't catch the moon, though I guess we did for a little while. You know, before it turned into a rabbit or something and got away. Even if you can't catch an impossible dream, maybe you shouldn't stop chasing it.

I've chased a lot of things in my day, but the moon is definitely a first.

smithwork

( cut for length/who let the viking and pilgrim into the electronics )

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: ]

wallhanging

[ Han is still staring at the ‘screen’ of the locket like this is the most ridiculous piece of tech he has seen in his entire life. Still, his voice is confident, and beyond the general expression of disgusted disbelief, there are hints of worry in the way his lips thin. ]

So, apparently, there are no space-ready or functional craft, and even if there were, there is no telling where in the Galaxy we even are. [ Assuming, of course, they would be in the galaxy that Han knows. Which he is beginning to suspect is not the case. ]

So here’s a better question… What’s the best craft available for transport, and what… business is there, to be doing.

[ Chewie’s not here, the kid’s not here, Leia’s not here, his blaster doesn’t work. Hell, he’d even take old Kenobi or even Greedo over most of this crowd. Better the devil he knows.

And, all right, he kinda breaks at this and has to ask. ]

Also, honestly, how do so many of you folks not know that light has a speed, and space travel is not difficult. Really.

[ ~~And all this magic bs can't be real.~~ Hell, these people are worse than Kenobi's Force mumbo jumbo ]

climbed

[ the video is at first, accidental--simply because bran was repeating what the fairies had told him when the locket was placed in his hands. what eachdraidh is presented with is not the face of a boy, but the snout and eyes of a very large wolf, looking into the locket as if he could see straight through it. ]

That isn't--Summer, to me-- [ the video jostles for a moment, just long enough to show a blurry, shaky image, as if the locket was being carried by someone and left to dangle. the image is of a boy, maybe eight or nine years old, with curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes. he looks surprised to see his own face in the locket, and when he lunges forward, it's only with his hands, as if he couldn't move otherwise from where he seemed to be seated against a pillar.

(he couldn't.)

the feed cuts off for a moment, before it's replaced with the text function. if it wasn't for the dictation of the lockets, bran wouldn't be able to speak with this, surely, but he watches it move with fascination as he speaks into it. ]

I seek someone who could carry a boy great distances.
My companion might have wandered off
But he only speaks his name, and is very large.
else, I would ask for help, with only kindnesses to spare in return.
I am at the castle the fairy called Caer Glaem, and I would like to move to the room they have granted me.

Thank you

[ bran doesn't like asking for help. he's never liked it, but losing his legs forced the young wolf to learn to trust people, even when he didn't want to. all he could do was hope that meera or jojen or hodor had simply wandered off, and that once he was moved to somewhere safe, he could search the castle through summer's eyes, instead.

if reached before response, bran can be found sitting up against a pillar. summer is a fair distance away, but not so far--the moment someone approaches, the large wolf steps protectively in front of the boy, ears pinned back, nose ready to curl up in a snarl. ]

teenyoda

[The image that comes onto the lockets is an almost peaceful one. The blue sky and white fluffy clouds that bob a little from the POV of the locket. A little movement shows that that's because the transmission is clearly coming from a boat. The locket, with a little more jostling, is shown to be resting in fabric on what appears to be the deck of the boat. One might be curious as to why a transmission was coming suddenly from seemingly nowhere on a boat, but the answer shows itself soon enough in the form of one suckered tentacle flipping the locket around. If it was ever possible for an octopus to look both pissed off and surprised out of its mind, this one was doing a very good job. One of its many arms clutched at a small feather, the other limbs flopping around and smacking at the deck as the thing clearly tried to actually go somewhere. It couldn't walk to save its life and wound up rolling out of the pile of clothes, taking the locket with it.

Heavy stomps could be heard as boots came closer across the deck to the cephalopod, a shadow coming between the sun and the locket as a large man loomed over it. "Well then. What's this? How's you get aboard, ye slippery little thing. Back to the sea with you."

A hand bent down to try to pick up the octopus and there was a flurry of lashing arms as it latched onto the man and refused to let go. Curses were spat and the man called out for a fellow sailor, but before the other man could come closer with the knife it held to free his shipmate, a third voice joined. One others might find a bit familiar. A naked seventeen year old was clutching the man's arm and looking up at him with fear and horror. It took Stiles about five second to remember about the locket and he dropped to the deck, scrambling for both his clothes and to turn the locket off.]

~*~

[It was about twenty minutes later when a red-faced Stiles showed himself on the network.]

Um, about that...

Sorry? I... have no idea what happened. One minute I was standing looking over the rails and the next... um... aha. Let's just pretend that didn't happen, okay? Okay. But, if anyone can tell me what just happened, that would be really, really helpful. Especially in making sure it doesn't happen again.

gentlearcher

[ ACTION ]

[It was a long walk to Caer Glaem. Fortunately, Susan was close enough that that the road to it was fairly safe. She would feel better about this whole thing if her brothers and sister were here, or if she had her bow, or even her horn. Instead she was wearing her school clothes, and they were none too clean at this point. Still, Susan was hoping for a better explanation, and from what the friendly fairies and townspeople had to say the castle was the place to get it.

She was hungry. Fruit trees and handouts didn't do much in the way of assuaging hunger when one was walking all day. She hoped there would at least be food in the castle; it was looming large in her vision now and she hoped to get there within the end of the day. It was a good thing, too. She'd bathed in a stream that morning, but--

"Lawkamercyme!" cried a high pitched voice, and Susan turned her head just in time to see a small, green-tinted fairy fall into a faint. A dark shadow globbed its way towards the fairy, Susan was sure it had foul intent. Dark shadows with gleam of teeth almost always did. She wished for her bow more than ever, but didn't hesitate to pick up a large stone at her feet. She was frightened - how did one fight a shadow? Oh, she hated to fight - but she wasn't about to just stand there and watch. She shouted, "You! There! Get away from that fairy!"

The shadow did not seem much impressed. And so Susan threw the stone with impressive aim, clipping the beast right in the mouth. It hissed and abandoned the fairy, heading towards her instead. She bent to pick up another rock.]

[ VIDEO ]

[For a long moment, the locket shows a beautiful face with a furrowed brow, staring intently at its own reflection. Susan has never seen anything like this before. She is at the castle now, clean and clothed and fed, so her image doesn't look quite as dire as it had earlier that day, and her dark hair is swept back neatly in a braid.] Ah - so it does work! At least, I assume it does, and this is a message going out all over the lockets and not just some sort of fancy mirror.

[In either case, she's beginning to feel a little self-conscious. She reaches for easily remembered dignity.] I don't mean to intrude, but I have heard that this is something which happens often. And I wonder, is there anyone from England here? [She misses her family; two weeks of walking among strangers in a strange land was more than enough alone time for now, thanks.] Or even [marked hesitation] Narnia?

isitapony

[The locket screen shows a blonde with slightly mussed hair and a skinned chin. Her eyes are wider than they normally are and it's obvious to anyone who's seen panic that she's trying to fight back a little of it right now. She also has her back to a door, one that she seems to be trying to keep closed.]

Okay. Okay. Um, I did not sign up for this, okay? Okay. There are... things out there. It ate one of the little flying guys. Then there were more and then it got bigger and then...

[Then she found her leg being caught and pulled and she'd tripped and bumped her chin and kicked at it until her shoe fell off and she was freed. And now she needed a new shoe.]

It took my shoe.

[This is very important, guys. She now only has one shoe and can't run properly.]

I don't suppose anyone has a... thing that can make them go away, do they? Maybe a really bright flashlight? Or... crap, I don't know. Anything?

desperate_times

[The video turns on and shows Chloe, a stunning woman with olive skin and pale blue eyes. Her hair, jet black, is tied behind her, and she looks at the camera with smug amusement. It’s probably her typical expression.]

Hello, darlings.

[There’s a notable Australian accent in her voice.]

Since it looks like I’m stuck here for awhile with the rest of you, it seems like a good idea to stock up on some supplies. It’s a dangerous world out there, you know. A girl can’t be too careful.

I could also use some maps of the area. Roads. Obstacles. That sort of thing. I imagine there might be something worth finding out there, too.

And just maybe, if you need something found, I can be the girl to get it for you. Name’s Chloe Frazer. People say I’m the resourceful type.

pontificus

[She hefts a rather large looking book onto the table in front of her, a bright smile laid upon her face.]

It seems my fortune that the High Queen of the Seelie Court has granted me a skill of this kingdom. I've been given an old tome of the previous potion master here, and while I have no knowledge of magic not witchcraft it seems my interest in alchemy, poisons, and antidotes may transcend realms.

[A hand smooths over pages as she begins to turn.]

I wish to do whatever I can to help those here, to both protect myself and do what I can for those who cannot. But as I said I've no great skill in magic. I have already met one kind witch here, and I must call upon the kindness of others to guide me. I will not squander this gift.

If there be any in either court with any knowledge in potion making, I would wish to speak with you. My thanks. [It's a noble bending of her head before she leans in to switch the feed off.]

greenjacket

(ACCIDENTAL VIDEO)

...Bloody hell.

[ the locket is propped open on richard sharpe's lap. it catches the lower half of his face and shows a steep-angled frame of one green-jacketed shoulder as he works: trying to transplant a second charm from it's own chain onto the locket's. why carry around two bleeding necklaces when they can be consolidated?

but the chain slips in his calloused fingers and he swears a second time. bugger. ] I should sell it. [ he talks to himself. ] Or else let Pat handle the fool thing. He likes talking. Talks enough for the both of--

[ again, something tumbles; slips; goes awry. sharpe drops another string of strong oaths. ]

╍ ╍ ╍

(PURPOSEFUL VIDEO, LATER THAT DAY)

Who in Caer Glaem's got some scissors I can borrow? [ he doesn't want to ask the damned fairies; don't make him ask the damned fairies. he'd rather the damned fairies didn't even exist! ]

And while we're at it -- [ huff ] -- speak up if any of you poor sods are British army. Either bloody court.

[ he can't yet decide if it will be a windfall or a disaster if he and patrick are the only poor bastards to find themselves absent without leave from their own army. a windfall if he finds some he can order around, he supposes. and a right pain in his arse if he comes across anyone whose rank exceeds his own.

and lacking in many graces, major richard sharpe fails to identify himself. he just sits and glowers at the locket with a scarred face and an impatient expression. ]

all7seas

((The first part of this post is Jack's personal record of his stay at the Unseelie Court. The second bit is action, and anyone near Loch Noa, north of the Station, can encounter Jack. Responses to his locket exclamation in the very last section of this post are also welcome.))

( A bottle-log, first off. Scrawled neatly. Increasingly desperate. Not viewable to the public, just here for its OOC edification. )

[Thus, Captain Jack Sparrow sets off to shoot the Hedley Kow.

Outside the castle, he approaches it where it passive-aggressively chews a turnip. It moos in a low, coaxing sort of way. It is a come-hither moo, but Jack is not charmed. He aims and pulls the trigger, but at that moment, the pistol vanishes.]

BUGGER!

[The beast moos again, and now his hat -- his HAT! -- takes itself from off his head and vanishes as well! Jack is left speechless as, with a final mocking moo, the Kow itself disappears.

No....no, that's not right. The Kow did not disappear. Somehow, Jack realizes, he has disappeared and reappeared Someplace Else. There is a great dark lake before him, dark even under the sun. Trees whisper in the wind. No one else appears to be near. Welcome to Loch Noa, Captain Jack Sparrow. He opens his locket, shakes it, and bellows:]

..........................Monkeytits!

kingsdaughter

[Sigrid is looking fairly haggard and pale. Behind her is the rugged green wilderness surrounding the Station, though the Station itself is not in sight.]

I'm in the middle of nowhere at all and I've got a bad leg. I couldn't find my locket and I had to ask a thrush to find it for me. A thrush. I'm talking to thrushes and they answer me. Anyway I need help. The thrush said he'd go and find someone, but I don't know who he meant. Does anyone know if thrushes are wise birds or silly birds? If he brings back a bear or something, I've got to hide now.

sundroplet

【 the face that peers at you through the device today has many freckles and really big, green eyes. rapunzel will peek at the device, squeal and disappear from sight.

...only to come back a moment later and clear her throat. totally confident.

she will lift the locket and narrow her eyes, trying to decide what to do. while she does that, you might notice she had began to paint on the walls of her room. you might also notice what seems to be an endless length of golden hair. 】

Ah - how do you do - er - Caer Glaem a-and Caer Scima, too! I - think.

Anyway! my name is Rapunzel and I thought you could sort of help me out. If you want to and you don't have to I mean that would probably sound rude, haha.

I need help locating some things, er -

【 hold on, she'll take out an actual list and try to sound formal 】

Your assistance is needed in finding: chameleons answering to the name Pascal, paint of any and all colors especially yellow and orange, pine nuts, sea shells, hair brushes, fabrics, needles, blankets, scissors, paper, candles and paint brushes!

【 she takes a deep breath. that was kind of a lot, wasn't it? 】

All of these are very important and they might have a little to do with my birthday that I postponed because the fairies came and asked for my help and I thought, well, a person can have so many birthdays but so few adventures with fairies even though it seems you had your hands full perhaps a bit too full...

Um! anyway. There would be cookies as a - er - boon for any help provided!

-- thank you.

Entries tagged with captain jack sparrow: potc

Video | Morning of 22 November | Open to both courts

Second Message ⨕ Video ⨕ Both Courts

❧ VIDEO; 04 (both courts)

Action OTA & UNICORNS

( vid, both courts; during samhain, aka jon is That Friend lost at the mall )

video | open to both courts

( 2ND Snowy Flight — video, both courts )

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

01 | OPEN TO BOTH COURTS

first dream. video -> text. | unlocked

Video - Seelie/Unseelie

.001 Action | Video [ Open to All ]

Video - Unseelie/Seelie

video | evening after the feast | open to both courts

third bull ( video )

(sharpe's locket) ♖ video: open to all courts

Introspection | Action | Vocal Locket Outburst -- Open to All

video | Open to both courts

００１ ☼ ＶＩＤＥＯ ☼ ＳＥＥＬＩＥ＋ＵＮＳＥＥＬＩＥ

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