typemoonmoon: ❚ credit: <lj user="aicons"> (that you’ve thrown away your time)
[personal profile] typemoonmoon
[ Darkness fills the space of the locket from her end with her own appearance barely visible. Night time. Eerily quiet for the world. With thick fabric wrapped around the side of her head in the form of a cloak. These actions paint the tale of being intentional, whether or not she fully comprehends her doing so is another story entirely. ]

What is this world's highest power? [ Not who, but what. She seeks out power beyond the mortal realm and feels as if this doesn't need clarification despite asking the captive populace. ]

Those who the sovereign answer to. [ Arcueid does clarify on that point as she sucks in her lower lip in thought, baring one of her fangs. ] Mystical creatures of power, magic... perhaps a god.

Yes, a god is exactly what I seek.

Tell me of one.
undividing: dark-arch-icons | lj (Default)
[personal profile] undividing
[ when the video begins, there's a woman peering into it. she's a contrast to her brother-- all pale gold and ivory, soft and a little ethereal. she hesitates a brief moment, then sits back, folding her hands lightly together in her lap. ]

Good day. My apologies for not introducing myself before now. I have been.. recovering. [ from what, well, it's not something she's sharing. she offers a small smile, though, entire face seeming to brighten with it. ] I believe my brother has already made quite an impression, though, so perhaps it's time. My name is Nuala, twin to Prince Nuada and daughter of King Balor of Clan Bethmoora. Our people have long been called elves, and it is with that thought in mind that--in particular--I wish to hail our otherworld kin. [ her smile widens faintly, and she has to duck her head for a moment, fingertips coming to her lips as if a little overwhelmed. she takes a breath, then, and lifts her chin again. ]

I beg your pardon. I am simply.. very glad. .. Which is not to say that I am not equally glad to meet those of other races, mortal and otherwise.

[ she presses her fingertips together in her lap, glancing down at them briefly as she considers what else she wants to say. ]

If I might also inquire.. is there a need for healers? I typically work with the land, but.. it feels relatively healthy here. The bodies of people, then-- though I must confess that my strength is not currently what it was. [ a brief pause, then a polite bow of her head. ] Thank you for your time. [ and the feed ends. ]
folklorish: (level stare)
[personal profile] folklorish
[ The feed flickers on, displaying an elf seated in one of the more comfortable seats that the library of Caer Glaem has to offer. Nuada is garbed in his customary black, pale hair hanging loosely over his shoulders, and stares straight at the locket. ]

Good day, gentlefolk. I seek the fell beast known as Greenleaf. If you are near the environs of Caer Glaem, my lord, I can be found in the library. I would like to meet you.

[ And now that the invitation (or challenge, depending on point of view) is out of the way: ]

I also seek stories, or information, from those who may share their worlds with my kind. My name is Nuada Silverlance, son of King Balor, of the Clan Bethmoora. Some of my people - our gods - fled from home many years ago, and I have long searched for their location.

Therefore, if anyone would like to share their legends, I would be a most appreciative audience.

[ The feed shuts off a moment later. ]

video ]

Dec. 15th, 2014 01:03 am
truesight: (big mouth.)
[personal profile] 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: (pic#8575080)
[personal profile] 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?
smithwork: LA JIGGY JAR JAR DOO ✈ (man COZ I FLOWWW)
[personal profile] smithwork
Hi, everyone! Hiccup here, Unseelie Court if that ... matters to you. I was wondering if anybody else felt like getting to know each other. I'm That Guy With The Night Fury, also known as Why Are You Riding A Dragon and Is That Thing Going To Eat Me.

I'll start us off.

I've been talking to Jon about marriages and weddings, stuff like that. You can all settle down, me and Snow aren't getting hitched any time soon — I know you'll all be deeply disappointed to hear that — I'm just wondering how people do things in other lands.

When you're a Viking, you only ever get married if the other person proves their worth to you and it's unheard of for anyone to be pressured into it. You could be a guy or a girl, it doesn't matter. Women and men decide for themselves that that's it, they want to marry, do it, and then sometimes one of them might decide to divorce the other. Is that such a weird concept to a lot of people here? And, uh, on the subject of ... bastards — sorry about the language if that's also a thing for you, as well as the actual meaning — why is it that if one half of a married couple has another child with someone who isn't their spouse, everybody thinks said child is worth less? That seems insane.

[ Hiccup certainly looks confused, and a bit offended on behalf of said illegitimate children. ]

There are lots of cultures clashing in the Drabwurld and I'm finding out new things every day but this is fascinating to me, maybe because it's crazy and I've never explored anywhere far enough away to encounter such a weird way of thinking. Where I come from, no one gets to offer you a serious insult unless you yourself have done something to deserve it. You should be as brave as Thor himself and stand up for what you want, no matter what anyone else thinks.

Then there's this whole weird attitude about other people bothering to voice their opinions about who you sleep with, as if a guy choosing to bunk with another guy is a huge deal, or girls doing the same. Where does that entitled nosiness even come from? [ Hiccup snorts. ] Surely if you're not there getting down with them, it's not your place to even have an opinion on their bedroom shenanigans. My dad's friend Gobber would put his metal club-hand through the face of anyone who decided to get vocal about his private life.

Jon said that Berkians sound like the Free Folk where he comes from, because we do whatever we want and we keep our honour through our own actions, not the reputations other spin for us.

[ Sitting back against a snoozing Toothless, Hiccup toys with the strings on the neck of his green tunic, armour set aside. ]

Does anyone want to chat about their own lands, their people? I'm ... the only Viking in either court, I think, at least currently. A few of my gods are here — Sif, Loki, and I think Thor might be or was, and I'm still kind of thrilled that Elves and Dwarves and Trolls are real in the Drabwurld. The latter less so, maybe. If you want to ask me anything about my home or our customs, go right ahead! I'm probably going to be bugging people if they respond to this, so fair's fair. Sorry if I already managed to offend you somehow, I guess that's the sort of thing that happens regularly when lots of different people are stuffed into the same place.

I suppose I'm just homesick for that craggy, freezing, rain-soaked rock I call home. [ (Hiccup was always able to sit down and talk to Stoick at night about his day, or he was until this whole Chieftain Handover thing began to crop up.) He pauses as he remembers to ask one more thing before he closes the locket. ] Also, uh. Do you ever think about — about settling down here permanently? In the Drabwurld. With someone ... new? If we get three times our normal lifespan, it's worth it. Isn't it? Building a new life.

Anyway, thanks for listening. I know I go on. Feel free to talk to anyone else in this broadcast if they pique your interest, I don't mind.

[ Threadjack away, bruhs. ]
lusiphur: (pic#8506442)
[personal profile] lusiphur
[No video, not yet. Too incoherently angry, and it's clear in his voice.]

I don't know whose idea of a fucking joke this is, but thanks for pulling me out of a gladiatorial death match so I can fight in some foreign war. I'm sure Mogré-Ür will think this is a hoot when I get back. If I get back.

[he feigns an apologetic voice] Sorry, sorcerer sir. The kid died or got turned in a Troll WMD because some fairies needed me in another dimension for a while. You know how it is.

[a pause and some unintelligible grumbling]

Crow, this blows. I was just starting to like that kid, too...

So, I hope whoever's listening is paying a pretty penny for this inconvenience. I don't do this stuff for free. Never have and never will.
depicted: (following the stream up north)
[personal profile] 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]