eachdraidh

Mair's fallen to the Seelie and, quite frankly, I don't think we can win it back all that easily, but I've been asked by friends there -- good people, Drabwurld natives -- to make it difficult for the occupying force. I can go on my own, but I'd rather have some support and to that end, I'm looking for a handful of people who can do two things: first, you need to be able to hide your shard signature, and second, and more importantly, that you're quick, quiet, and willing to focus on Seelie targets without harming the native populace.

I've a plan for what might work and information about targets, strongholds, and schedules. In theory, it should be quick in, quick out, and if it does look to be going pear-shaped, there's no shame in running from this one.

If you're interested or have questions, I'm happy to answer.

extramural

[ The locket, as always, is held up in mid-air when the Outsider turns it on. He is not alone in this recording, though; behind him are four women in long, gauzy black dresses and veils. With them are several children, eyes all black; the women are gently ushering them along the shore of the beach behind them while two massive dogs run back and forth.

In the distance is the black line of the Void, creeping over the ocean.

Next to the Outsider is another one of the children, and next to him the resemblance is clear: the same eyes, the same curious tilt to the head, the same bony cheeks. The child looks a bit more fey, but he sticks close to his sire, hands clutching to his arm. ]

Do not harm the children, [ the Outsider begins, and his voice is cold, shows every century of age and power. ] Do not harm the children or we will use your blood and bones, and you will be lucky if you are dead when we start.

[ A large palm smooths over the hair of his son. A daughter comes up on the other side, humming. She smiles at him and her teeth are sharp and red. The Outsider leans in so she can murmur in his ear. ]

Ah, yes. Should anyone find themselves with a need to desecrate shrines further -- the same warning applies to you. I will know, should you touch one of mine.

[ His daughter giggles and takes the hand of his son, and the two go to join the others. The Outsider watches, head half-turned. A seagull swoops down and perches on his shoulder, ruffles its wings, and the feed ends. ]

extramural

[ The message that comes across the network is abrupt, as though the sender thought about sending it and simply did with no further thought. ]

I wish to learn more of the magic of your worlds, of this world. Not only how it works but how to use it.

I can offer a trade, should you require it.

[ After a moment, there's an addendum: ]

If you do not wish to discuss such things over the lockets, dedicate a shrine to the Outsider. I will know. We will speak there.

digophelia

[ Alice has been at the Barrel for a few weeks now. No one's asked her to cook and clean, but it's been a bit of an engraved habit brought over from her time in London. It's only through getting children's clothing and interacting with the nearby town that it's been plaguing the back of her mind. Unlike the last time she's popped on the lockets back in December, Alice looks healthier, but she is still pretty thin.

As usual. And as usual, her white rabbit is sitting there beside her, munching away at a bowl of food. She's not good at public speaking. ]

Hello.

These may be strange times to open a dialogue about this subject while both of our courts prepare for another skirmish. There are plenty of natives here of various ages who have been hit the most by war, especially children. I used to be the maidservant of an orphanage back in Whitechapel London.

[ Her face only flashes with a hint of pain when she mentions it. ]

Houndsditch Home for Wayward Youth—if you heard of it. And the children there came from similar backgrounds, that they were all traumatized and lost family either by sickness, death, or murder. These children are often overlooked, sometimes they are swept up by those with ill intentions and treated even worse. But they are still children and they still have pieces of their innocence left.

I may not have the resources nor the... capacity right now to replicate that orphanage, but I still want to help the youngest natives here have the smallest comforts like food or clothing. I've only had a handful of opportunities in Redgate and the Station to make good on my word and clearly I need the additional hands.

In addition to natives being sent away from the path of war, I hope that there can be a way to provide resources for them or find them the appropriate care somewhere down the line. I know that it is silly to think of such a thing when all the adults in this world are preparing for battle, but they are so young and they deserve so much more while they are being guided to safety.

But if I were to oversee these things, I reserve the right to be very picky. The children I cared for weren't even spared from the cruelty of adults, even the proprietor of that orphanage.

Surely my friends will be thrilled if I focused my attention on children rather than them. I know they must tire of my nagging.

desperate_times

[High in the sky, as usual, aboard the Black Pearl.]

Does it feel a little tense lately, or is it just me?

[She tries to avoid such feelings, but it's as though something is really looming now.]

If something happens and you get in a spot of trouble, send me a call and I can try and get you out. The Pearl is flying over the southern border right now, so if you're too far away, probably best to rely on yourself.

But know that I'm not going to risk this ship to save one person in a hornet's nest. It's too valuable for that.

[Just so they're clear.]

[ooc: Yes the Pearl flies! It's been sailing all over the place since September you guys XD;]

ziggyzoggy

[ Vol'jin had woken up with aches and pains all over, his mouth full of what he could only assume was the flavor of whatever poor unfortunate thing had crawled into his mouth and died there. He felt like ass. His shoulder hurt more than it had in months, and he was exhausted. So much for having a restful night.

...Or however long it had really been.

So, excuse his disheveled appearance, lace of face paint and disarrayed hair. He's still a bit out of it. Rubbing at the inside corner of one eye with his thumb, he speaks before picking up the steaming mug of whatever that is nearby. It had partially obscured a plate full of very picked clean bones, a few bread crumbs and a couple slices of as-of-yet-uneaten cheese. He sniffed loudly. ]

What'd I miss?

[ --And takes a drink. Forgive his brevity, Caer Scima; he's been through a great deal in the last week. It's wearing on him.

Please tell him he didn't miss the feast, though; he still feels like he could eat the entire banquet by himself. ]
( [ Private to the Outsider ] )

winterwork

[Nothing appears on the locket except complete darkness—simply pitch black, if you will—and all that can be heard is a deep, rumbling voice that echoes harshly.]

They didn't believe in you, Jack. That's why they sent you away ...

—no! Shut up! That's not true.

[This voice is of a certain winter spirit, though one that might not have been heard in quite some time. He sounds strained and frustrated as if he's been listening to this for quite some time now.]

Why else would they leave you all alone, Jack, stranded in another world? They spent a mere week without you here, but you— two-hundred and eighty-five years all alone ...

No! Leave me alone, I'm not afraid of you. They can see me. They believe in me. I'm a Guardian now and you can't scare me. Not anymore.

[There's a flash of light and suddenly the image appears crystallized as if ice covers it, though the faint sign of a silhouette appears beyond it.]

Don't be mistaken. You're still alone. People will leave. People will die. And it'll be just you in the end. Just you and the darkness ...

[Another flash can be seen, the sudden shooting of ice from a staff before a growl, dog-like in its nature is heard. Several more flashes of the ice-like bolts are shot before the growling comes to a stop.

Several moments pass before the figure moves to pick up the locket, rubbing a finger over it to wipe the layer of frost off. Revealed is the face of the known winter spirit, surprised as he is as though he hadn't realized the locket was on until just now, looking the same as he always has in appearance though his expression reads him to be more worn, more aged. The brown cape he used to wear is gone now as well, replaced with a more modern looking blue hoodie, decorated with flecks of frost at the edges.

He breathes out a sigh before he finally speaks again.]

It's me. I'm—I'm back.

( ooc: for those who hadn't known, jack had gone through an enchanted sleep just before this where he was canon updated from 1727—only fifteen years of being a spirit—to 2012, post-movie. so while he was only asleep in the drabwurld for a week, he spent 285 years on his own in his own world. )

digophelia

[ Alice has spent most of her day in her room, keeping to herself. After Samhain, she's feeling particularly burnt out socially, choosing to make the most of her time with her pet rabbit and her drawings. What she won't mention is that her hallucinations have gotten pretty vivid the past few days and they're riddling her drawings that are sprawled all over around her. Her hands are covered in blue thanks to the pastels. This is one of the weirder things she's drawn, spending a lot of time mindlessly on the face. She only stops once to itch her nose, getting the blue-black residue of the chalk pastels.]

Oh, bother.

[ Alice stifles a sneeze, rubbing it off her nose. Alice stops to adjust her neck.]

Well, I'm going to run out of pastels. I should have gotten them at the Station when I had the chance. Not one of my more finer projects, but I suppose it'll suffice for now. Do they even have these in Caer Scima?

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: ]

winterwork

[There's a boy with white hair, quite obviously rather young however, staring with eyes blue and wide, a curiosity coursing through him as he peeks through closely. There's a moment where he seems quite anxious, as if he's unable to speak, but as he pulls back, it passes fast, a notable smile blooming suddenly on his face. The video shakes from his apparent bouncing, peering into the locket with nervous excitement.]

Hello! The name's Jack Frost, and if you can hear me, if you can see me—I really hope you can see me—please say something, anything, really.

[Fifteen years and he's only ever spoken to another spirit or two. Oh, how he longs for conversation! To be able to hear responses to questions, laughter towards his jokes, anything to let him know that he's heard, that he's seen.

He lifts a hand, hesitating for a beat before a small wave of frost lifts from his finger tips and he blows it forward. A hearty laugh soon follows, quite pleased with the act.]

I don't know much about what's going on out there, but I've got a huge stash of ammo for the best snowball fight you'll experience in ages. Heck, we can even go ice skating or sledding! We'll slide down hills or even mountains of snow. Anything goes.

[His smile grows ever wider with talk of his plans, a slight excited laugh escaping him as he continues to gaze with delight.] Look, wherever you are, it doesn't matter—I can get you one of the best snow days of your life. You'll have a blast. I promise.

mixcds

[Kieren hasn't slept in two days. There are already dark circles under his eyes, the skin blue and purple. He's looked tired since he arrived, but this time it's apparent. His hair has gone wild, as though he's gripped it with both hands at various spots. His eyes are blood shot - he's been too preoccupied with what's happened to really notice.

His throat is scratchy when he speaks. It's a desperate sort of noise, one layered in denial. ]

I can't find Jem. She didn't come round to give me my shot yesterday or today, I thought maybe she'd gone off with one of you lot. But I can't find her anywhere.

[He doesn't want to accept that's here alone. It's too daunting. He lifts his hands to run them over his face, but when he looks at them, one is shaking. Frustrated, he viciously shakes the tremors out. His attention soon snaps back to his locket. ]

I've seen that people go home. How do you know if they have?

ziggyzoggy

[It's early in the morning. Actually, it's the creeping up on the buttcrack of dawn, entirely too early in the morning, but there you are. Sun's not quite up yet; the cold light of early morning seeping into the cracks of windows, not enough to take the chill out of the night yet. Who's been up for a while? This guy. There's errands to run, and if it's going to take days to run them, might as well get started early. Really early.

So! Good morning, Caer Scima! You get a Troll. Or at least, the painted-up face of one.]

I'm Vol'jin, Chief of the Darkspear tribe. Wit' that out of the way, listen up:

I'mma be travelin' to the Station soon. Ya need somethin' from there, or ya just want company, or ya don't feel right travelin' wit'out someone to watch ya back, meet me down in the Courtyard at sunrise.

Bring ya own supplies, at least a week's worth. I ain't ya minder.

[This ain't no newbie fetch quest; don't expect him to hold your hand.

Chieftain out.]

vrykolakas

[If anything, the Brucolac's voice sounds worse than ever, painfully scratchy and distinctly weary. The reception isn't perfect; he's sitting in the garden of the fortress at Redgate, where the lockets work, but the blood granite is still causing some interference.]

What languages do you speak? And what language would you say I'm speaking right now?

vanyel_ashkevron

[The locket is resting in the palm of Vanyel's right hand as he sits under a tree. His legs are crossed and his eyes are closed.]

No matter how hard I push, the barrier remains intact. [His eyelids open, revealing silver irises.] I have used every spell in my arsenal to test our colorful prison, but to no effect.

[Sadly, he isn't surprised.]

Do hot springs exist? I know I could put them to good use.

[How can he feel so old when he's so young? Rising and shifting the locket so his face stays in view, he stretches carefully. Old wounds are a pain.]

I would not wholly mind some company should I visit them either. The Tayledras are completely without shame where their hot springs are concerned. I promise to not follow in their footsteps.

[Meaning he will wear something instead of being fully nude.]

amplified

( the look on lydia's face is both determined and harried. she's discovered something about the lawkamercyme, as well as herself. her voice is a harsh whisper, and she seems to be creeping around just outside of caer glaem. )

I can kill them. By myself, I can -- ( she sees one of the creatures approaching. quickly, she sets her locket down. in the frame is a massive lawkamercyme. in the background, there are two or three smaller ones approaching. lydia rights herself and approaches slowly, her back to the locket. but it's clear she's going to face them head on. and they notice her. she just so happened to catch one of the nymphs shouting the name of the creatures before falling unconscious, and just hours prior, she found herself hunted by one of the fearsome things. she opened her mouth and channeled her banshee abilities and screamed its name, and it disappeared. so now, as all four of them turn toward her, she draws a deep breath.

through the network of lockets everyone will be able to hear a piercing scream, recognizable as the name 'lawkamercyme'. supernatural beings will pick up on her scream even without their lockets, as her voice is capable of traveling over at least two to three miles of distance to those with heightened hearing. the shadows seem to be jolted by her voice, and in just a matter of moments, they disappear. vanished. gone. after she's sure the coast is clear she turns, breathless, back to the network. )

I can destroy them.

masterofmystery

[ It was just over a week ago that he was at home. Just over a week ago that he'd been doing things with the other Aurors. Just over a week ago that he'd arrived here and had his world tossed on its side. Things changed quickly and after a message he's kind of just flopping around his room. Okay, so maybe he was a little better than that.

But he had a lot to think about and, unfortunately, thinking and him didn't go hand-in-hand. It just led to thoughts he was better off away from. He was better at doing, not sitting around, and that's what led to the sudden video.

...Or maybe the video coming on now was partly accidental because at first you get a very good image of a cat getting teased with a piece of meat before it disappears off screen. Now the screen shifts as the young man on the other side of the video tries to figure out how to set it. He's definitely eating the food (that's rude, Ron).

At least he's used the locked a few times before... but he still looks fairly awkward when he finally settles. ]

Uh. I'm Ron, Ron Weasley. [ A beat. ] Yeah, my sister was here 'til a bit ago. I wasn't here when she was. Know Harry and Hermione, too. Not that that much matters much to most of you, but figured it's worth saying since I was asked about that already.

[ Okay. Now what. How do you talk to people? ]

There seems to be loads going on here. Which I guess is to be expected, you know, with a war. And monsters attacking-- 'Though that's something different. I'm not even sure what it is. Er, well, if there's anything I can do to help with that--I'll try. Not that any thing seems to be working for it.

But I'd like to. Try, I mean. Even if not that. I'm rubbish at most things, but sitting back while everyone's doing everything isn't very useful. I've gone to school and I'm an Au--something like a pleas--policeman. That's got to count for something. I help my brother in a joke shop sometimes, too, so there's always a good laugh.
[ . . . ]

So. Yeah.

[ . . . Another pause. ]

I was told to find some bloke named Mako, too. If any of you know where to find him.

floralteas

[ The video shows a slender young man in tattered Japanese robes. On his head is an open face mask of a dog made from paper and thread, its mane reaching up to the small of the man's back. ]

These monsters aside, this is the nicest kidnapping I've ever been to. It's been days and I have yet to be drugged, beaten or sold into slavery. [ Considering what his life was like, this is seriously a step up. ] But clothes might not last these attacks, so if I start walking around naked please refrain from pointing or grabbing at my manly spirit. I'm actually quite shy. [ Shiro said, as he smiled boldly. ]

Is there a place in this world for an umbrella maker to gather materials for his craft? I used most of what I could find for this mask. I'm mostly in need of colored paper, paints, oil, lacquer, and bamboo.

fiercestwarrior

[ The video shows a young woman, her face framed by slightly wavy hair the color of rich soil. Unseen is the weight of many centuries that lie upon her strong shoulders, and would make her ancient rather than young in the eyes of some.

Her large, hazel eyes are sharp as those of a bird of prey as she fixes them upon her locket. ]

I am Lady Sif of Asgard, my allegiance is to my king and my home, and much as the rulers of this court seem to wish it, that will not change simply because they imagine themselves to have some manner of claim on me.

Do not think me craven, I have no fear of battle, but I will not seek it out merely because a stranger tells me that it is my duty.

So I put the question to you now, my fellow recruits: Why do you fight?

Entries tagged with vol'jin: world of warcraft

video; unseelie lockets; backdated to the 14th.

video | unseelie

text | open to both courts

video, open to both courts (action if you are at the barrel)

video; Locked to Unseelie (FLYING SHIP)

Video, Unseelie locked

fourth snowball ❅ voice → video (open to both courts; backdated to the 16th)

video - open to both courts

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

first snowball ❅ video (open to both courts; post feast)

( ✈ first flight; VIDEO, both courts — forward-dated to 1st, post-feast )

third shot ☢ VIDEO (open to seelie & unseelie)

Video, Unseelie court

ii. audio. after dark. both courts.

[Video / Open to Both Courts]

third scream ♚ video ♚ both courts.

first move :: video :: open

Video | Open to Both Courts

001 | Video | Open to both courts

Links