eachdraidh

[If you've been so unlucky as to never run across Thor before, the man who appears in your locket may appear strangely larger than life. If you have met Thor, you know he is actually that large in real life.

He's looking rather pleased with himself today.]

Well met, residents of the Unseelie Court. For those of you I do not yet know - I am Thor, son of Odin, grandson of Borr, defender of Earth and Asgard, and god of thunder. [He inclines his head in greeting. Gotta make good first impressions right?.] For as long as I am here, I will lend my strength to the Unseelie cause, and see this Void overcome completely.

[How that's to be done? Well... let's not say anything that'll make the Monarchs mad, okay?

Instead, Thor wants to figure out how to get everyone working towards the goal in the first place. Y'all are a diverse bunch of misfits badly in need of a Breakfast Club movie, or at least a buddy cop/road trip flick.

You can thank Loki for introducing him to those tropes.

(speaking of Loki... a green-clad arm appears from offscren and makes bunny ears behind Thor's head as he continues.)]

If any of you wish to spar, or to learn how those of other worlds fight, I am willing to teach and be taught. This may be war, but there is honor to be gained on the training grounds. Moreover, I'll buy any fighter who can best me their weight in gold of ale!

[Bring it on, Unseelie. He'll honour his oath, no matter how many people beat him.]

And to any who outdrink me, I'll give a taste of the mead they serve in Valhalla. So potent, it makes strong men drunk with but a whiff!

(yadda, yadda, yadda, says Loki, owner of the bunny ears, now appearing in the background. He rolls his eyes, making talky signs with his hands.)

It is said to bring the favour of the Norns to any who can drink a full cup and walk the length of a room without stumbling!

[Thor holds a tankard into view, and toasts the cup to all watching. The feed ends.

That's the solution to disharmony, right? Drinking and fighting!]

scorchedchivalry

[It had been since the return of the Monarchs since any had seen the face of the one on the lockets, heard the voice of the General, but here she was in full armor, silver crown upon her head, and a regal blue and white cloak upon her shoulders. The backdrop of one of her banners - blue with a white dragon upon it - would be seen behind her. For those more familiar with her, there was a bit more color in her hair than before she had fallen asleep, but it was still too pale to those that knew Saber before the corruption had seeped into her. And for those that knew Saber well, they may notice that she actually looked rested for once.]

Allow me to offer my apologies to you all for my absence. I see that it has come at great cost to the Unseelie. I will not dwell upon what may have been had I not fallen to the unnatural slumber I had been in, but shall look to the future. Much has changed since May, and though it gladdens my heart that our great Monarchs stand tall and that our Seelie enemies have lost one of their pillars, there is much that must still be done. The Void grows ever closer, our enemies bolder, and the gods stir.

I will be visiting all Spires and major settlements over the next week. There is much that I need to see and many to speak with. Captains, Lieutenants, I expect status reports immediately. Barons, I will be seeing you all soon. Anyone else that wishes to speak with me will find that I will make time for them.

For those of you recently arrived, welcome to Allaidh Darach. I am Saber - the General of the Unseelie forces. If you need purpose, you need a place in this war you have been unfairly brought into, I will find you one. Time is no longer a luxury we can afford.

[ooc: Open log is here. New and Old CR welcome!]

[OOC EDIT: ICly on 6/25, a messenger finally catches up to Saber to inform her that Balor(NPC) was appointed general while Saber was asleep and she now reports to him. Anything in this post occurs before then. Private messages will be sent to the new characters apologizing for the misunderstanding.]

withbite

( Locked to the Barons/Baronesses and Damon's CR )

[The rest of the Unseelies will be greeted by a smiling dark-hared man.]

Greetings. I'm sure that in light of the everything that's happened lately, some of you could use a little R&R. For those that don't know the term, that means rest and relaxation. It just so happens I'm capable of providing that. Thanks to the assistance of a few of your compatriots, The Oasis will be opening for business for all your relaxation needs. Well, for most of them. This is an adults only enterprise, so try to use your imaginations as to what that means.

Just because it's a desert doesn't meant you can't enjoy yourself. There's hot and cool springs, waterfalls, quite little nooks and... not so quiet little nooks. Thanks to the help of a lovely vixen with a very green thumb, there's even plant life to make it a little more tropical. Everything is half-price for the opening weekend; the 26th to the 28th.

Since this is a vampire-friendly zone, there will be a no-vampire staking rule in effect once you cross into my territory. Other than that, I don't really care what you do. As long as you're not causing a fuss that I'll have to get involved in, have fun.

[There was a rumbled caw from over his shoulder and as he shifted to look behind him at the raven perched on the top of his chair, the locket moved enough to make her visible.]

Oh, right. I'd advise against going outside of the marked boundaries into the desert. This is sand worm territory, after all. Mine aren't patrolling yet, but that doesn't mean a wild one won't come up and make a snack out of you.

Anyone with chits from me for services rendered can consider them viable for The Oasis.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled drudgery.

[He smiles, waves, then closes the feed. If anyone has questions, they can contact him at their leisure.]

{OOC: Last component of his quest was advertising the finished oasis. So, welcome to Orgy Central, Drabwurld}

vrykolakas

An act of kindness?

[The Brucolac has clearly just received bad news. He looks positively poisonous, wide streaks of silver whorling over his skin. His jaw is stiff with it, even his hair frosted over with strange metal. His right eye burns gold still.]

I am sick to shit of this half-cocked magic. [He shudders—would gesture, but he doesn't want to show off how badly his left arm is faring under the encroaching silver. It hurts to raise it to shoulderheight; above is impossible.] An act of kindness is no godsdamn cure, to be bottled and applied at will!

What is an act of kindness? Is it kind to tax a people, that a city may grow? Is it kind to lie in order to protect the honest? Is it kind to enforce a system of law and punishment?

By the gods, [he drops back, shaking his head, looking weary,] there is no hope for us.

Before anyone tells me to just do something nice, [pitching his voice mockingly higher] I've given my scribe a longer lunch break. [It is midnight.]

And apart from a marked decrease in efficency, fuck all has happened.

conqueress

[ The locket reveals the face of a young woman--some would say a girl--peering into it. Her hair gleams silver-gold in the candlelight, her eyes an unusual purple color. In the background, an imp peers over her shoulder, its claws clinging to her bared skin. ]

There is magic in the Free Cities and Qarth alike, yet I have seen nothing half so convincing as Allaidh Darach. It is ... [ She hesitates; what to call the place that's imprisoned you against your will? ] ... intricate work, truly. Were I settled into my kingdom, my children fierce and grown, perhaps I would not mind it so much, calling Caer Scima home.

[ For a fraction of an instant, she looks sad. Did Drogon sense her as she faded into this world? ]

But lush pillows will not shield my freedmen from those who would send them back to the shackles, no more than peach tarts will keep famine away from my gates. [ The imp shakes a foul little fist at the locket in punctuation, as though its fellows didn't help to abduct her only four nights ago. Dany turns and fixes it with a measured look. ]

Leave me now. I want no spies.

[ It hesitates, but something in her voice convinces it. Muttering, it releases her shoulder and shrinks away as though scolded. Dany waits impatiently for two more of the creatures to leave her presence, some private struggle raging beneath. Then, at last, she exhales in a sigh. ]

Yet time is not so easily disrupted, I have learned. Tell me, was I spoken true? [ It's phrased as something of a demand, but there's a very clear plea beneath it. The queen is there, but so, too, is the girl. And the girl is frightened, fearing for her people and her dragons alike. ] Will my people notice I have left them, or will all be as it was? How may I be assured of their safety?

[ Restless fingers pluck at the fringe of the cushion in her lap. ]

boutant

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

thebreakingwave

Hello, for those of you I haven't yet met, I'm Harry.

[The video footage is of a young man with messy black hair, one bottle-green eye, and half his face silvered over with old scarring. On the damaged side, he has a red amber prosthetic in place of an eye. In the background, there's a crow that periodically peers over his shoulder.]

The queen has tasked me to talk to every one of the Unseelie and ask for a memory of solidarity, overcoming great odds, or defeating a foe. With these, she can use it to create a better, stronger defence for a rebuilt Caer Scima.

It's going to take time to do this — at the very least, a few months — so there's no hurry to meet and I've the ability to get to pretty much anywhere in the Drabwurld quickly.

[He looks down at a bit of paper that's just out of sight; seems like someone made notes before talking.]

Sharing a memory is done through magic, it doesn't hurt, I won't look at anything you don't want me to see and I'll swear to that.

How's that?

digophelia

[ Alice has been trying to draw in her sketchpad for a while now and it's clear from how wrinkled the piece of paper is, that she's tried to draw on it to no avail. It's been erased numerous times. Right beside her are her imp and her rabbit, as always. She's been quiet at the villa, she's locked herself up acting stranger than before. ]

How funny it is when the mind brings so many images and memories that it cannot even transfer onto a sheet of paper. I know what I see, but it cannot go through my fingertips and onto my paper, unlike so many times before.

[ By the tone of her voice, she means more than that. Guarded as ever, Alice will not say what it is, other than she reluctantly places her pencil down on the paper. Art blocks are terrible, and they're more terrible than before. ]

I am sorry... for my absence. Please don't think of me as silly, but I lost a good companion of my mine. My mare. My horse. I took her in after my first battle, when her owner had fallen. I loved her dearly, she was my friend, too, as much as anyone else I know here.

[ Alice says this while trying not to cry. ]

I loathe to think of another animal as a replacement, but seeing as it is a necessity, I have no other choice. She had fallen in battle when I separated from the others.

[ When she went on her rampage after the Jabberwock, though she's not going to say that. Alice just rubs her rabbit's ears instead while looking at her blank paper. ]

I can try and buy one, if needed, if anyone wants to humor me. I know this is a silly request after everything that has happened -- selfish, even. I think it might be best if I left, for a small while, so I can clear my head and be useful again. No good comes of being a shut-in.

[ After all, ever since she came back, she's been acting stranger and much more distant than before. There is more here that she wants to say; she struggles with saying it. ]

I, well- never mind that. Please be well, all of you.

bythewaves

[ Grief, as deep as the sea, as endless as the sky. Pain, like sheeting ice, in the voice that speaks... and for those with ears to hear, a tiny, quiet envy and relief. ]

For those who knew them, the list of those freed from this world now includes the Lady Galadriel and her husband, the Lord Celeborn, their daughter, the Lady Celebrian, the Lady Idril, and Maedhros my brother. Also, the Lady Sif, who counted us as family in lieu of those left in her own world.

Their things are with me, but they left no letters behind.

stillhope

[She moves through the underground forest of Maechenibryth, pausing for a moment to lightly touch one of the gemstones before turning her attention to the locket.]

I have heard that our shards possess a power of sorts - once that could be wielded with the proper training... [It's an intriguing thought, although it is equally terrifying knowing full well what power could do in the wrong hands.] If there are those who might be willing to share more on this, I would be most grateful.

I do not wish to use it to harm others, rather to help. I come from a family of skilled healers and would like to lend my assistance however I might in these dark times. [Which brings her to her next point...]

I also seek information on the healing properties of the native herbs, any assistance would be much appreciated. [She gives a soft inclination of her head before offering a smile.] Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta.

winterwork

[There's only a soft voice that rises, familiar to some but less cheerful than it's normally known to be.]

So this world is kind of in a crappy place right now, isn't it? [A sigh is heard along with a pause, but he continues.] It's not gonna be safe out there. For anybody. So if you don't feel safe, let me know and I'll find you. I'll make sure you're out of the way. Somehow.

[Another pause as he struggles to speak. This whole month, this entire war, it's too much of a mess.]

I'm not gonna let any of you die, okay?

PRIVATE VOICE MESSAGE TO; ariadne, hiccup, lancer, korra, mako, jon.

Merida's asleep, by the way. Just like I was. I don't know the details of it, but if it's anything like my case, she'll be asleep for an entire week. Except she ...

[He swallows hard, remembering his three hundred year hiatus.]

There's no telling how long it'll be on her side. It could be a day, it could be twenty years, I don't know. So just ... make sure to give her some support when she wakes up, okay? Trust me. She's gonna need it.

sculptor_of_aman

I wish to let everyone know that I have retired now to Caer Scima to begin the construction phase of the Hall of the Remembered, at Morla's behest. For those who have been kind enough to share with me their memories of the lost and fallen Unseelie, I thank you. For those who still wish to help, I welcome your aid. Please do not hesitate to contact or visit me.

I requested artistic immunity for any members of the Seelie court willing to assist me, but unfortunately, Morla has stated that she cannot guarantee your safety. Still, I will turn away no help offered, and will be glad to arrange things to the best of my ability. My son is willing to offer transportation services to those who need it.

Residents of Caer Scima, I issue my apologies in advance. Morla has requested that the art installation be placed in every room save one. This is sure to cause various inconveniences, though I give my word to make any interruption as brief as I possibly can. Again, your cooperation is invaluable, and you have my thanks.

[Nerdanel will be able to be found in and around Caer Scima working on her sculptures, anyone is welcome to visit and watch her if they want! Various members of the Unseelie court may find themselves chased out of any rooms where she might happen to be working, including their quarters. Sorry about that.]

rangerandking

{Aragorn's quarters are impressive, though they seem to be rarely used. The covers on the bed are neat and the pillows are without dent. His personal belongings are sparse - mostly consisting of that which he can carry on the run - however he has amassed a nice collection of books. They are tucked away neatly on a shelf with an admirable stack of notes - in an ornate hand - beside them.

The flickering light foretells that a fire has been lit in the fireplace, yet he is lighting another, smaller, flame in a pipe. Once the herbs begin to burn, he brings the pipe to his lips, inhaling slowly.}

There is unease in the Drabworld. Foreign magic molds the land to its will and we are inclined to feel helpless before its might. I do not blame you for keeping counsel with only those you know and trust.

{He breathes out, smoke rising in the air like a mist.}

Yet are we not brothers and sisters in this plight?

{Unity might be an impossible dream. Even so, he has not given up hope on it.}

The danger I incur for speaking plainly is upon my head. I do not fear pain or death. But I do fear watching each court fall into ruin save for those who survived in the Drabworld long before our arrival.

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. ]

lusiphur

[It hasn't been very long since his last attempt at communication, but this time he actually has something a little more worthwhile. A few questions, and the first one is perhaps an unusual one.

Lusiphur's location is unclear because the background of the video is mostly just darkness. He's wearing a black bandana on his head so that it covers his long elf ears. It's not an attempt to hide his identity other than he doesn't want to obscure any valid responses to his question.]

Do the words Elen sila lumenn' omentievlo mean anything to anyone who's listening?

[He met an Elf at the feast soon after his arrival who said he had family here. Time to seek them out... and hey, his pronunciation of the phrase is actually pretty good.]

( CLOSED )

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. ]

kilimanjaro

[The feed comes on sideways, and gives a good view of a big black nose. Bryndis, loyal to her master, has found some way to turn on Kìli’s dropped locket. There’s a brief snuffle from the pup and she draws back to her master’s side, who is lying on the ground with his eyes closed, looking half-beaten and certainly nowhere near sober. He is apparently completely unaware of the locket being on and is slurring out words in a mixture of English and his own native tongue. There’s a nice cut down his forehead, blood trickling down into a black eye, but he’s too gone to care.]

Thatrulkhud fandùna, bunmel, ulnas... She’s gone, Bryn, she’s gone... [He curls in on himself, giving a small little whimper. His fingers curl into the dirt.] I am makarfûn. Mahal, I...this is...this is... kherkhar.

[The pup whines, sitting down beside him. Kìli reaches for her, one hand stroking her fur before pausing in her scruff and tightening there.] Zusul, Bryndis. I...I thought...I thought she was my sabrel, that I could...ihrêr.

[The direwolf pup shifts, her wagging tail hitting the locket and sending it skidding another direction as she comes closer to comfort her master.]

inafadingcrown

[The infirmary in Caer Glaem]

[Finally, after weeks of silent sleep, Galadriel begins to stir. Her eyes open and for a moment she looks about her in confusion.]

Where am I?

[...the infirmary. She does know it; she's been here before, though more often as a healer than as a patient. But recognizing the place doesn't answer the larger question-]

What has happened? [There has to be a reason that she's in the infirmary, after all, and she doesn't remember being injured.]

[Video, open to both courts]

[After she has had time to make sense of the situation, catch up with those loved ones who were nearby when she awoke, and make herself presentable, Galadriel opens her locket long enough to offer a short little message. She opens with a warm smile and nod, as always.]

It seems that I have missed much whilst I slept. I fully intend to learn what I can through other means, but first, it would ease my mind a great deal if my kith and kin would assure me of their safety.

To those who have arrived while I was indisposed, I would offer my welcome, were I under the illusion that most were pleased to be here. As it is, it seems it would ring hollow. Instead I will offer the simple hope that your time here does not prove too trying.

Galo Anor erin radeg- May the sun shine upon your path. [And with that, she will reach over and shut the locket.]

sculptor_of_aman

[Rarely does this Elf address the Courts, and never has she looked happy doing so. She seems a little sadder this time, but those silver eyes are bright with determination.]

Hello to everyone.

For those who do not know me, I am Nerdanel, and I am, among other things, a sculptor. Morla has commissioned from me a work of grand scale. The Hall of the Remembered. She wishes to honor every Unseelie that has been lost. I intend to do just that. And so I am asking for your kind assistance, and thanking those who have already given me their stories.

In order to capture these lost ones, I need to know them. Some I knew. Many I did not. And so I ask everyone who has known a lost or fallen Unseelie to share their memories with me. How they died. How they lived. Whether they were loved or loathed. And it matters not to me whether you hail from the Seelie or Unseelie Courts. I will welcome all help offered.

There are many ways to share these memories. You can tell me your stories if you wish. Or, if it is easier, simply open your minds and hearts and allow me a look at what you remember. I will share in this with all of you, if you will allow it.

I am at the Station to gather what stories I can, for those who wish to meet me in person. If you are in need of transport, my son Makalaurë--Maglor, perhaps, if that is the name you know better--will be glad to help.

I thank you all for your patronage.

asafp

Fuck me.

[That's it that's the post.

If you're not a member of the Seelie court, that is. After another moment -- or a few -- the audio and the lock switch on.]

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