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 )

knightscode

[ A few hours after Ariadne's post, which came after the monarch audience.

Lancelot's voice is clear and calm, if a little tired. This sort of thing always drains him. ]

For those who do not know me my name is Lancelot, I am marshal of the Seelie forces. If we have not met before, forgive me. Things have been busy of late, and today is no exception. I would like to preface by saying if you have any questions you are free to approach me, either by locket or in person. I am often in the training grounds here in Caer Glaem or over in the White Citadel. I never turn away a question or help offered, and I do my best to be transparent and honest in my answers.

Recently a lot of activity has been noted from a group known as the Cult of the Fox. For those who do not know, they are a native group who have a strong anti-shardbearer sentiment. Since all of us are shardbearers this is a little difficult to ignore, and ignoring it is not something I would recommend in the slightest.

( [ I will do my best to explain ] )

boutant

( cw: language, mindfuckery, mentions of suicide/attempted suicide )

dyingisnotdead

[Loras looks like the very last thing he wishes to be doing, right now, is to be talking into the locket.

But he has to do this. He can grieve alone. That is what he has always done. And with the last person who truly knew him gone... it is what he must do.]

Lady Sansa Stark is gone.

We have searched the Cothromach, and found her shard.

[He presses his lips together, and apparently finding some steel in his spine, sits up straighter.]

The fate of the Cothromach in her absence will no doubt be decided by others greater than myself. But as one of her right hands, I assure you that I will do my best to protect those who live and visit here until a decision has been made.

[He believes that is what Sansa would have wanted; but this is not what he has ever trained for. He is a fighter, a knight, not a leader. He isn't Renly, he isn't Margaery. But he'll try, for now, until someone else comes to take her place.]

For those of you who do not know, I am Ser Loras Tyrell, former Lord Commander of the Rainbow Guard and the keeper of one of the white towers.

If any of you need anything, or wish to discuss the loss of Lady Stark, I will be in the Cothromach until further notice.

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.]

aureinsof

[Locked to Seelie]

[As much as Aster doesn't want to do this, it's important in the end. It might help him make connections.]

Hey. With everyone preparing for war, thought I would make an offer. Name a monster you want and I'll tame it for you. I need a favour equal in return. You want something simple, it's simple return. Harder and I need more for it. Make an offer if you're interested.

[Open to Both Courts]

[Aster opens the message up here, because he needs to know more.]

Tell me about the beasts of this land. I need to hear from both courts. What monsters do you know about? The more in-depth, the better.

[He considers saying thanks but he doesn't, just shutting off his locket instead.]

knightscode

[Anyone who knows Lancelot will likely as not be immediately surprise that he is sending any kind of message that is written. It is hardly one of his strengths. Still, the message is short, and this way devoid of emotion. Which is best, considering the topic. ]

For those who knew him Faolan is no longer with us.

He sacrificed himself for the sake of a friend.

So far as I understand he will be returned, in some days, by the power of the courts.

He will need space and kindness.

firith

[ Mirkwood was always a land of assimilated cultures, both forming a cohesive whole. The unification of a number of Elven clans in the Drabwurld is no different and they march as one force under their Sinda king, clans merging like frail twigs wrapped into a durable, strong bundle. They balance each other well, artisans and crafters — and warriors. Thranduil is armoured in silver, as is his preference, while the army riding normal horses behind him (only two-hundred or so, a small cadre that poses more of a show of intent and force than numbers yet as capable as twice as many mortals) is decked in gold-like metals ~~that are nothing near as soft~~. He himself is atop Gelefn, his war-unicorn who is likewise clad in armour that extends right over a vicious-looking, metal-tipped horn.

The use of Sindarin by a Laethanian Aelf says a lot, even if you can't understand the brief exchange that passes once the locket is flicked open. ]

I dass carnen, Taidron? [ An assent from the captain who serves under Legolas, and Thranduil nods dismissively. ] Agorel vae, a si nadath nâ i moe cerich. Gwaem hodo ennas! Boe ammen veriad lîn, andelu i ven.

[ Jerking his chin in a direction to the meadows ahead of the northern forest-eaves of Breagha, the second-in-command rides off to direct the troops where they might rest awhile. Thranduil glances back to the locket. The tromping of hooves remains constant in the background, picking up as sections veer off to set up camp for a few hours in strategic positions. ]

Legolas and I shall arrive at the plains of the Cathraon within days. [ Gelefn snorts a hot cloud in the winter air, the view shifting as Thranduil keeps his tempestuous steed steady with one hand about the reins. ] If you are a vampiric Seelie Shardbearer, steer clear. You may be slain on sight.

[ The Elves under Thranduil's rule haven't taken kindly to a war being waged on them in particular by the vampires that have launched attacks on them here and there, and are heading north to join Ridire's camp to sort this matter out once and for all. Off snaps the locket as another call draws the Elvenking's attention. ]

( ooc: a log for cathraon-based shenanigans will be tossed up in a few days! c: )

knightscode

[ Lancelot is doing a remarkable impression of someone attempting to look calm and competent. He's getting better at it, although the faint lines of tension and stress are likely visible to anyone looking for them. His surroundings, what can be seen of them, look as if they might be a study of sorts. ]

For those of you I have yet to meet, my name is Lancelot. I hold the rank of Field Marshal here in Caer Glaem. I have no doubt those of you newer to this land have plenty of questions, and if you have patience enough I will do my best to answer them.

As it stands, I have seen plenty of people offering training. I thought it worth emphasising that the training yard here in Caer Glaem is open to anyone of any skill who wishes to either help train another to defend themselves or improve their skill. You may have never held a weapon, may be considered the best in your own land. Either way, I am quite certain you will have something to learn and teach both, and we will find what is best suited.

When all of you were brought here it was because of something inside you, what they call a shard. A chip or piece of a gemstone of great power that found its way to your world. It carries power you can use, and some of us -- myself included -- have been taught how to do such a thing. I will gladly teach anyone who wishes to learn. It is better to be taught than to use it by accident, I think, as such things can be explosive.

Likewise, there is always plenty to be done around Caer Glaem that is not combative. If any of you wish to volunteer your skills, or to be pointed somewhere you might be of use, we will find you something. No skill is useless, no person lacking worth. A city cannot be manned by soldiers alone, it takes more than that to keep it running.

[ ... Is that it? Yes, he thinks he has run out of things to say. Lancelot inclines his head a little, offers a small smile. ]

Thank you for your time.

[ OOCly; A log if you wish to find him, train with him, fight with him, or just mingle in the training yard with someone else! Lancelot can also give out quests, he has q few open still but I can also create new ones to suit if you have an idea. If you need your character to be pushed into something for the war effort, or are unsure how to involve them, you are welcome to let me know and I will try to think of a way to recruit them! ]

notyetlegend

[When the screen flicks on, it focuses on Merida kneeling over a deer. A deer as white and pure as the snow, were it not for the blood under its neck tainting its silvery fur. Gingerly, she tugs the arrow from the muscle, reaching to close its eyes with her other hand, bow itself resting against a nearby tree. Merida murmurs something in Gaelic, retracting her hand from its face.]

Forgive me, Wilder One. It's been an honor.

[She had hardly been expecting to actually shoot the White Hart down, but hunting with Saber had gotten results and proper respects must be given in any case. Placing the arrow back into the quiver at her hip after washing off the blood in clean snow, she stands, fur trimmed dress folding out around her ankles, boots deep in the snow. Angus whickers and nuzzles her hair, causing her to turn and reach to run her fingers across his nose comfortingly. Her imp scurries about, muttering to itself as it steps around the corpse gingerly, as though it fears waking it.

Merida pushes hair from her eyes, reaching into a small pouch wrapped around her quiver belt for a hairband and tying it into a high ponytail. Stooping again, she reached for the White Hart's forequarters, taking hold of his hoofs and hefting him over her shoulder with a grunt, standing and, with a bit of maneuvering, gets him onto Angus' back. That done, she dusts her hands off, picking up her bow and her locket hanging from it, noticing it on.]

Well I suppose now would be time tae announce that I've shot th' White Hart, wouldn't it?

Now how am I gonna cart all this meat back?

graciousness

[ the voice that can be heard is full of nervousness and skepticism ]

Alright, then. I know this is working, it worked for everyone else, no reason it wouldn't for me - aside for the matter that I do not know what I seem to be doing at all -

[ but then, video! at first you might see only freckles and then she'll step back and you'll see a young woman with dark curls, a purple, flowery dress and one bottom lip that seems to be busied between her teeth. ]

-- Greetings to both courts, I have heard there are two. I hope there are not more and if there are -

[ she might be offending someone. oh no. she'll take a quick yet graceful curtsy ]

to those who can hear - see! me. My name is Gunievere - Gwen, really. of Camelot! I - the fairies -

[ the fairies. this is so unsettling ]

I was told I was brought here to help. I will do all that I can but I - I am but a maidservant. I do not know what I can do, truly but whatever you might need of me, I am in your service.

-- They will send us home when our duties are through, will they not? I have other.

[ erm ]

duties! at home. I am already in the service of a Lady and she might be unsettled with me being gone.

[ and morgana being unsettled is bad news to all ]

--- It's nice to meet you all, I'm certain. Whatever I can do, truly.

burping

[ as the video flickers on, you can see a lovely, pale woman, poking at the screen as if she's trying to get the thing to work and her eyes widen when she realizes that the device is, in fact, working. despite the flush to her cheeks, her expression turns more diplomatic a moment later.]

Faeries and imps, what a wonder. I never thought them to be real, only the thing of storybooks and to keep children from wandering the forest. [ her smile turns wry for a moment as she glances off camera towards the fairy in her room.

there's a pause in her speech as she murmurs a soft word of thanks to said fairy who brought her to her rooms] I suppose I ought to accept that I am no where near Nemeth or Camelot. However if there are any from my home, if you could step forward and make yourself known... I am Princess Mithian of Nemeth and I wish to find a way to send a message to my kingdom, if it is at all possible. [ you can catch so much more with honey.] I fear there will be a rather desperate search party sent out, if I do not return soon.

steeledskin

[ before the lockets sits a well-composed and well-turned-out lady: her face is set with discipline -- though below it she wants to crack and cry. but sansa stark has a duty -- some imperative -- to speak calmly of grave matters. nothing about this is comfortable; nothing about this is within her conventional grasp. she could compare it to her makeshift trials before the lords declarant or her audiences with the king, but this stage is far wider. out of frame, her fingers tremble. ]

Dear Shardbearers of either court --

[ if her voice shakes then it is by design. some honest fear is permitted into her tone, for what better to move the hearts of strangers than to express genuine dismay at this great knotted problem? she would not have thought to even sell it as injustice until living here and meeting many a person who appeared outraged over these alliances. these marriages. these common cages. ] One turn of the moon ago, High Queen Morla delivered onto me an ultimatum: to marry some Unseelie lord of her choosing, or else invite war upon the Cothromach. Whatever your loyalties, I beg you all to recognize the attempt for what it was --[ and do please fill that blank with your own outraged conclusions. ] I call for aid and support.

[ some words are permitted more of a quiver than others: morla; marry; aid; war. ] But I fear war has come already -- has long already been present -- and today I will refuse the proposal offered, because I fear it was only ever a blade's poisoned edge. I would prevail upon some soul from that queen's court to speak my refusal to her. [ powerful men have met her vulnerabilities with laughter, only to turn and shake their heads when she took small careful steps towards decision. what else is she to do? if she will not play the game by their rules, she must try to write her own. but even now, she hinges her action upon the passion of someone else's protest. someone else's judgement -- for better or worse. ]

The Lady Keeper of the Cothromach will not swear away her city to another court by marriage vows or by vows of any kind. [ except for other partial vows made in quiet rooms with would-be neutral parties. but those meetings are a secret and her announcement today comes instead to engage the hearts and sympathies of prospective champions who might grow incensed over a bully's tactics. lady sansa is not above playing upon their pity if said pity will protect her, her family, and her new city. anyone's pity will do: seelie or unseelie alike. ]

High Queen Morla's dogs are at the gate; let us be wolves when we meet them.

( ooc; i know some efforts have already been made re: the unseelie camps by lancer and others -- there's also a fresh log for the battle itself. )

showmeyourwreath

Good day, everyone.

It seems Reynard The Fox is a Hot Topic of the week, and I know that he is being discussed in greater depth elsewhere, thank goodness. [Seriously, this stuff is very nice to know.] That said, I may have a bit of new information for those who weren't aware.

He was behind the destruction of the Drabkeeper's Castle. By himself, it seems. I don't know why, but if you've seen what's happened to it, you know that that's no joke. It's been completely levelled.

[So, that might give a greater appreciation of what he might be capable of to those that didn't know, before.

There's more to it than that, but she doesn't know how much of a target she's made herself out to be and doesn't want to implicate or involve anyone else. Still, someone should know all of it.]

[SEELIE LOCKED, but with additional private filters to Waver Velvet and the Outsider]

Secondly, I would caution anyone with any kind of Sight [there is a careful emphasis of the word that she's certain won't be missed by those who know what to look for.] in taking extra precautions in using it, if you have both the means to and the control.

Please, be careful. That's all.

[Locked to Lancelot and John Grimm]

There's something you may want to know, if you don't know it already.

reticence

[Faolan is not one for making announcements. Being a spy, he does not like to put himself in the spotlight. But he needs information. And they need this information as well. So after consulting the necessary sources, he turns to the lockets.

When he speaks, his voice is soft yet strong and sure. And a lot smoother than his normal speaking voice. He's got to disguise himself somehow, after all. He is used to using this tactic, and he is good at it. For those that know him, it will take a moment to recognize him from this speech.]

Fellow shardbearers. A moment of your time, I beg you. If nothing else should catch your attention on this day, then at least heed this announcement. A great force is rising. Some of you may have heard of Reynard the Fox, Lord of Maupertius. Violent, fickle, and unstable, he enjoys power and conflict, and having turned on both courts at once, he is seeking both for his own means.

Reynard is collecting shards, Unseelie and Seelie alike, for the purposes of gaining power. Unseating a monarch, perhaps. Creating his own court, certainly. Creating his own army, his own champions. Collecting more shards. Gaining more power. We cannot allow such a man as Reynard the gains that he seeks.

Be wary, fellow citizens. Be on your guard against him. A slight man with long red hair, beardless and fair of face, who flies a banner of a red fox on a black field. They say he is deathless, that he can transform into a fox. If you are cornered by him, run. If you are seeking him out, don't. His gain is everyone's loss.

For those who have encountered him before, I seek a few answers. A gathering of information. What has he promised you, if anything? What dealings have you had with the man? What do you know of Reynard the Fox?

knightscode

As some of you are aware, there was a fire in Caer Glaem's library. An intruder was in the buidling.

As it stands, we as shardholders are the strongest thing our court has to defend itself. If the shardholders of the other court come to us the footsoldiers will be cut down all too easily -- a shardholder is worth 30 or so of the other soldiers.

If we are to defend Caer Glaem therefore we must help in not just leaving her to pursue alliances and fight enemies, but by the stationing of guards. We must keep track of who enters and leaves our city, be vigilant against agents of Morla scouting us out or attacks against us. As you may already be aware myself and Sir Grimm are holding training all through this month for anyone who wishes to learn, but this will require people good at keeping records too.

If anyone is interested in this effort please contact myself or Lady Gwenllian. Thank you for your time.

kingsdaughter

I'm back!

[Sigrid has bathed and washed her hair and polished her skin and everything is braided and tucked and in place as she sits before the locket, sitting like a lady instead of a girl.]

I'm in Caer Glaem and I have presents for a lot of people. Treun is a wonderful city and I will go back, and not only for business. Let's see...

[She looks at something off-frame, ticking each item off on one hand by tapping each fingertip against her thumb.]

Sansa, Gendry, Arya, Jon Snow, Lancelot, and Fili, I've got presents for you all from Treun and I want to see you. But!

[She smooths herself out and looks a little more formal.]

I am Sigrid of the House of Dale. We didn't get any new alliances in Treun, but we've got something just as important happening.

[She can't help the smile that breaks out.]

Before the envoy was sent, Treun was struggling to trade with Caer Glaem. You and I, shardbearers, can use the fairy rings to travel safely from here to there and back, but those without shards cannot. Treun is a hub of trade--traders come from round the world and their goods ship along the Road of Eithne to Cothromach, and from there across the mountains to Caer Glaem. As you know, most of the major battles of the war in the last few months have taken place along the Road of Eithne, making it very dangerous to travel. We have been on the brink of losing trade not only with Treun, but with all those who come by the Road of Eithne--the eastern world, more or less, and a great many by sea.

With the Council of Treun, it has been agreed [her smile splits into a grin] that a new road is to be built south of the fighting that will allow merchants from Treun to travel safely not only to Caer Glaem, but to the western world.

Trouble is, I need people to help build it. I've got three lovely earthbenders who'll work it through the mountains, but we'll need as many as possible to help make this safe path happen for the merchants. The monarchs will supply most of the laborers, but I need foremen. People who know what looks wrong, mostly. We don't even have roads in Lake-town, so I'm not much good there. Oh--there will have to be a bridge over the river.

...Thank you. For listening, even if you can't help.

knightscode

[ Lancelot looks tired, dishevelled, but determined. He's at least free of injury now, and making an attempt to look some degree of... serious, collected. In control. He's also in the company of John Grimm, who while not exactly looking pleased probably looks a few degrees less wrecked. Lancelot takes a deep breath, and manages to force a small smile. Behind them appears to be the training yard of Caer Glaem, which is being slowly set up by a few soldiers milling around.

Lancelot's tone is quiet as he speaks, quieter than perhaps people who know him may be used to, but it is measured and firm still. Controlled. ]

For those who do not know me, my name is Lancelot. I am Field Marshal here in Caer Glaem. Those of you that do, however, may recall I ran a training session a month previous. John Grimm --

[ -- and Lancelot glances sideways to the man with him. ]

-- and I have been asked to run them as a regular effort henceforth.

[ Your go, John. ]

The both of us have experience fighting both at home and in the Drabwurld, if you’re worried about qualifications. If you don’t know how to fight, even to simply defend yourself, then we ask that you absolutely come. If you do know how to fight, we ask that you come anyway; if nothing else, this is a good chance to practice your skills and maybe learn a few new ones. The same applies if you use magic.

[ A pause and, though it looks like saying this pains him, John adds: ]

Though we do ask that you not use lethal force. Training weapons will be provided as needed, and we will have healers standing by at each session.

[ Lancelot hesitates, nods approval finally as he tries to work out other things they need to cover. Right. Be encouraging, sound like you know what you’re talking about Lancelot. You just declared yourself supposedly in charge. Try to seem like you deserve that. ]

The training yard here will be set up to allow any who wish it to come and go as they please. We will try to attend every day but if we are not on hand some of the soldiers will always be here. Even the strongest of soldiers can benefit, fighting styles are different here in the Drabwurld. The shard that sits inside your chest can be used to amplify your strength and speed, and I will happily pass on the art to any who ask. As much as that, you are of course welcome to help us train if you have the experience. We will not turn away help.

We know that many of you do not want to take part in this war. That’s fine. But the Drabwurld is dangerous, and it’s not just the war that makes it that way. We can help you learn how to keep yourself alive in the event that something happens.

[ A pause, and he glances sideways at Lancelot, then nods slightly to himself. ]

[ Lancelot offers John a tiny smile, than turns back to the locket and inclines his head a little. ]

Thank you for your time.

[ Will that do? That’ll do. ]

[ OOC; Log if anyone wants to play out training! ]

knightscode

[ This video feed is focused mostly on a Lancelot's dog, so all that is really seen of him is his hands holding her still. She's terribly curious about it, but he's restraining her from licking it or chewing it.

His voice is distinctly tired, and anyone who is paying attention will notice that you can just about see a line of red, raw skin on his wrists -- leather guards covering how heavy the damage might be. ]

Is anyone good with names? I'm afraid my friend here has gone too long without one. She's brave, curious but cautious, much cleverer than I am...

[ She's also turning to nudge his hands. He lifts one gently and pets at her ears. She squirms a little, shakes her head -- then makes a quiet, high-pitched sound and...

... hiccups a tiny fireball. The dog's ears flatten back, perhaps unhappy or apologetic (maybe embarrassed, it wasn't very elegant) but Lancelot just huffs amusement and strokes her again. ]

Forgive me, I almost forgot, it seems these -- [ He reaches out of the frame and his hand comes back holding a small, blue feather. ] -- have some kind of magic in them. It appears it does not discriminate in who it grants it to.

[ Which means he now has a small, magically inclined dog. ]

Thank you for your time.

knightscode

[ Lancelot is... well, he's not used to anything that might be deemed public speaking. It was a little different asking for someone to deliver a message, but this is a little more.

Well.

A little more like like accepting some degree of responsibility for a thing, and the last time he took some degree of leadership it did not end well.

If he knew what the phrase 'car crash terrible' meant he might say it applies.

Still, hey-ho. Adopt, adapt and improve (motto of the round table). He clears his throat, and tries as hard as he can not to look like a fool. ]

For those of you I have not met, my name is Lancelot.

[ Good start, yes. Tell people your name. A+ Lancelot you absolutely have this. ]

In light of recent events, I thought it wise to make sure everyone can defend themselves -- and that those of us who already can keep on top of our skills. Marshal Gwenllian and I will therefore be hold open sessions in the training yard, and anyone with an interest is invited to come down to learn, to practice, or to help others. There is no minimum or maximum skill requirement, and any style is welcome. I have trained as a knight at home, but also as a shard holder here. There is a trick to making use of this which I am willing to teach anyone interested.

[ Right. Now. Anything else? He hesitates awkwardly, offers a vague smile that he hopes a little more reassuring than it feels. ]

If anyone has any questions I am happy to answer.

[ Right. That'll do. ]

[ OOC: BACKDATED due to taking time to OOCly work this out! And open log for this here! You don't need to have spoken to him to turn up, but if you have he will try to remember your name like a pro. If you are interested, he will also be recruiting people from this for a little adventure. Details here! ]

Entries tagged with lancelot: bbc merlin

VISUAL ; SEELIE LOCKED.

VOICE | SEELIE LOCKED; EARLY MAY

video | morning after the audience | unseelie & open non-locket comms

[Video] Locked to Seelie

seelie; video; why this

Video; ☆ Seelie / Both Courts

[ TEXT; BOTH COURTS ]

❧ VIDEO; 07 (SEELIE-LOCKED for once)

[ Video; Seelie Locked ]

third arrow → VIDEO → both courts (forward dated a bit)

❖ ００１ ; ＶＯＩＣＥ ⇨ ＶＩＤＥＯ（ＳＥＥＬＩＥ＋ＵＮＳＥＥＬＩＥ）

video »

(sixth lemon cake) video ✧ open to both courts

Third ❀ Bloom Text; backdated to the 20th | Open to Both Courts w/ Filters

voice; open to both courts

[ Voice; Seelie Locked ]

Video - Seelie locked - Forward-dated to the 3rd

[ Video; Seelie Locked ]

[ Video; Both Courts ]

VIDEO || SEELIE LOCKED || 3rd of Aug

Links