eachdraidh

[ when the visual feed starts, there’s a bright green snout poking at the locket, and korra’s voice can be heard in the background — soft, encouraging. “it’s how we keep in contact, rizhao,” she says. satisfied, the dragon slithers away to mako — currently sitting on the floor with a conspicuous collection of bowls of black powder, paper tubes, and clay — and climbs right on top of him, all thirty feet of her piled on his shoulders, looped under his arms, and all over his lap. the locket swings around, catching a glimpse of one asami sato at a carved wooden table, looking over some small parts that look like clockwork gears with a hand to her chin. she seems Very Interested in what she’s doing, so we’ll leave her alone for now and get to the focus of what this post is really about:

korra comes into view, fixing the angle of the locket before setting it down. she’s about to start talking when a great white head comes into view, and naga drops herself down next to korra, chin on the girl’s lap. as korra relaxes, she begins to address the network, ]

I hope everyone’s feeling better — did anyone find out what caused that silver stuff to spread? How it got started? There seemed to be a lot of different cures, but…

[ that’s not really what she wanted to talk about, so she lets that thought drift off, leaning back and drawing her hand between naga’s ears for a second before she continues. ]

We’ve got a lot of new people, don’t we. [ and she doesn’t seem happy about that, oh no. ] My name is Korra, you can find me out on the Western Road if you ever need to travel to Redgate or the University — but you don’t wanna go to Daonna, trust me. You’re more likely to end up dead than actually accomplishing anything.

( TL;DR INSIDE )

hallways

[ the video feed opens up onto an image of a chair in a small room. at first there's no indication that there's even anyone in the room, and then a woman walks into frame and sits on the chair. she looks composed, calm, although there is an intensity to her gaze that may give away just how displeased she actually is at the moment. ]

Hello, everyone. I am Princess Michelle Benjamin of Gilboa, and I wish to address our captors. As I have not been able to find a way to be permitted an audience in person, I am forced to air my grievances publicly.

[ she leans forward slightly in her chair, but remains as composed as ever. it wouldn't accomplish anything to make her frustration obvious; that is not how you deal with foreign dignitaries. at the best they think you're a petulant child with no real power, at worst they may take offense. a negotiation like this takes a delicate, thoughtful hand, and michelle is determined not to fail in this as she did at port prosperity. ]

I was lured here under false pretenses, with no knowledge or explanation of my purpose here. I have no desire to participate in a war, particularly one between nations I don't know. If you've taken me against my will, I have no doubt you've done the same to others, and so we get to the point of my address:

[ michelle folds her hands calmly in her lap, pauses for a moment, then continues. ]

I wish to negotiate for the safe release of all those brought to this place without full disclosure. Those who accepted to fight in your war of their own free will shall of course be exempt from this deal. In return, I give you my word that you will face no fear of reprisal from my father King Silas for my kidnapping.

Should you fail to return me and the others you have kidnapped to our homes, I must inform you that my father's temper runs hot of late, and he has seen his children taken from him far too much in recent months. He will not hesitate to retaliate.

Unless you want to fight a war on two sides, I suggest we sit down for negotiations.

[ with that said, michelle is finished. she closes the locket and ends the recording, then takes a deep breath. she's never been in a position like this before, and doesn't quite know what she's doing. she has to do something, though. these people can't just get away with kidnapping everyone here. ]

depicted

[Oh, look, it's Dorian Gray! Everyone remembers Dorian Gray, right? Sweet kid, a little naive, recently got scolded at the royal audience? Well, today you wouldn't believe it, not from how very self-possessed he looks, how pleased, how utterly brazen.

One might think that someone who just got publicly called out and punished might feel more need to keep their head down and be discrete, but apparently not. Every actor needs an audience, and this actor, at least, seems to be particularly committed to enjoy the show he's putting on. Feline in recline, he speaks as one who savours language, gesturing in smooth, languid movements. He is the 1890s Aesthete come to life, in all its hedonistic glory, and he is here to share.]

How dreary we all are getting. It's the fin de siècle all over again, but with far less Oscar. Or Yeats, for that matter. [Suitably, mockingly dramatic:] "And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

[And here's a scoff.] I'm not feeling it. We are meant to be the court of tradition, of love, of welcoming the apocalypse. And yet I haven't seen even one orgy in my time at Caer Glaem. Frankly, I'm unimpressed.

[The headshake turns back into that canary-eating smile, and he purrs out his proposal for fixing this shameful problem.]

So tonight, at the sun's setting, I'll be holding a, ah, ritual in the Magi's Workroom. Wine from Mandragora Estates—top of the line, for those tragically ignorant of the most up-and-coming vinery in the Drabwurld—and various other substances. Children not invited.

It's a protection ritual, for the record. It would be so very unsuitable to be decadently useless in our embrace of the End. Try to bring yourself as magically charged as you can.

[ooc: THERE WILL BE NO LOG FOR THIS I am not going to put up an actual orgy log dear god. But this a thing Dorian will really be doing, any character can come as long as they're over the age of consent. Wine, drugs, and sex, all night. Technically, it really is an actual magical ritual.]

judicatus

[ When Gabranth takes a moment's rest from the hunt to address his locket, it's without his helm in sight...or much of his plate at all, really. There's little need for the clank of his armor to make this task any more difficult, after all.

No, he's opted for lighter gear this time, though not so light as to afford little protection against the cold. He's leaning back against a tree, cloak pulled tight about his shoulders, while a large chocobo — dark black in hue, down to its very beak — fluffs its feathers and preens itself behind him. ]

Two months have passed since first I found myself in this Drabwurld, and yet still it presents me with unexpected turns... Long have I known war, and long have I taken part in it. Yet not once have I ever known of any faction that would bid its warriors to take as their greatest priority a ritual so arcane as this.

[ He pauses for just a moment, mulling it over. The chocobo behind him seems to have taken notice, and is now watching the locket with keen interest. ]

But I do suppose what would be seen as exceptionally unusual in Ivalice could hardly be considered so in a world such as this. Not where gods and creatures of legend are demonstrably known to be far more than that — mere legend...

[ If he intends to continue on that line of thought, he doesn't get a chance, as the chocobo shoves its head past his shoulder in an attempt to snap and bite at the locket. ]

Stop that. [ He clucks his tongue, holds the locket out of reach with one hand, and shoves the bird's head away with the other, to which it responds with an agitated wark but makes no effort to resist.

Gabranth gives the locket one last, brief address before he snaps it shut: ] My apologies; I'd best be on my way, before this one grows even more restless.

( ooc: if anyone wants to action it up with him in the woods, please feel free! )

Entries tagged with gabranth: final fantasy xii

VISUAL ; SEELIE LOCKED.

first crown | seelie;

seelie; video; why this

video; open to both courts.

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