Thegoodfellow - The Goodfellow

wadecalhoun​:

          A low whistle leaves Wade, drumming his hands on the table as if it would aid him in formulating any response or retort of comfort. He’s at a loss, he’s not entirely familiar with fey business, never really had to concern himself with them before. Robin had dished out all he needed to know, how they were capricious but relatively harmless at the end of the day and merely, much like everyone, solely out for their own kinds survival. From what Wade had gathered, it seemed the fey simply wanted to be left to their own devices, but he knew such sentiment could not encompass the entirety of the species and that was where betrayal and shit became a dark and slippery slope. “Robin, you ain’t gonna have some target on your back for bein’ forced to take some chick’s job, are you?” Well, a larger target then the one she inherently created considering her own age and ability to meddle. “And how come you didn’t come to me about all that?” Being hunted, it allows him to recall the moment they first met when he’d almost jabbed her with his fucking iron switchblade under the false pretense that she was a demon. How far they’d come since then and though this was no time to condemn her when she appeared so emotionally wounded and fragile, Wade had felt almost offended at the idea that she would have rather faced such problem by herself. He can be a bit thick headed and even through his concern for Robin and his mild offense he still can’t rouse the obvious fact that she was trying to poke at the elephant in the room, his affiliations with a certain group that hunted all supernaturals.

...

“Wade, dearest, I have had a target on my back for years, my new role has merely increased other parties’ interest,” she begins, voice slow and deliberate as she reaches for the warmth of her drink and raises it to her lips to take a long and silent sip. There is an eternity of legends and stories behind her worries, the fear of the dark that her kind carries woven into her very essence with the knowledge of the drows that will never stop hunting them. Worry circles her chest, weights her tongue as she speaks, even as fondness shines through. Even as she wants to reach and bring him closer, even as she wants to reach out and hope. He is worried, before all, he is concerned. And yet,  Robin knows Wade. Has known him since he attempted to kill her, believing her a demon and nothing else. Dearest as he is to her, she knows him enough of his faults to know that he had not caught her indirect. The desire to reach out, the hope, does not fade, but her loyalty to her people prevails and tentative thoughts turn into tentative words. It’s like walking up to the precipice, the knowledge that if she pushes she might not get an answer that she wants. Robin doesn’t know if she can handle the truth for herself, doesn’t know if she can handle another betrayal. If it were for her and her alone, she would not continue. But the truth is not for her satisfaction, not for her peace of mind: the truth is to protect those she has sworn to defend. “If it’s not the Eye, it’s the drows, shadow creatures wearing the faces of those we once loved. My kind’s very existence is in danger, and I do not know who to trust. I cannot bring anyone I care for into this, I cannot bring you into this Wade, not when my kinds protection is not your cross to bear.”

wintersaurora​:

❅

Aurora takes the glass, silently grateful to have something to occupy her hands and to have something to burn her throat. She takes a sip as the other speaks, hesitating only when Fen’harel was mentioned. Her eyes fell. As she took the glass away from her lips, her gaze finally returned to Robin. “Please… I’ve always counted on you to speak your mind. Everyone else is walking on eggshells around me and I-” She sighed. “I understand. But it’s very difficult to try to come back to myself when no one else is doing it.” She ground her teeth nervously, turning away, pacing very slowly. “If it’s any comfort for you, Robin, I don’t think you’re a failure of a replacement. You’ve held your Court together. You’ve managed to despite never being groomed to do it, despite perhaps the worst travesties we have endured as a people in… millennia.”

...

“If you want me to speak my mind, then you are going to have to accept my kindness and empathy, neither of which are a weakness, as brief as they are, because ignoring tragedy does not help, and you know this,” Robin says pointedly, the allusion towards her own brothers demise vague enough that most would miss. Not Aurora, though, not when they had known each other for so long and the other was aware of the reason why Robin had become involved with the hunt for the Eye in the first place. “I have managed yes, but managing is not enough when we are facing our current threats. I have to do better, be better, but I lack the training and the person who could have trained me is a traitor and no longer part of the Court. Whatever legacy there is for the Fall Chancellor is one that I have to learn without training.”

Tati Gabrielle for Mood Magazine

There is a weight to her shoulders that she had never expected to receive, a newly settled sense of duty that she cannot avoid. Suddenly, the world had gone off balance, the knowledge she held as true changed with the blink of an eye. Fen’harel was a traitor, and she is the new Autumn Chancellor. The drows return, and the Eye moves. The Blessed are scattered throughout the mortal realm. They lost so many to Asphodel’s spite. She is worried and grieving, both beyond compare, the weight of what is to come settling over her shoulders, and yet, she cannot show it. She is now the newest Chancellor, and leaders cannot be weak in front of those that look up to them. Not to the young eladrin and not to anyone else.

“That depends, dear. I personally recommend you learn more than the basics of self-defense, as things are likely to get complicated,” she begins, expression calm yet warm as she eyes the youngest fey. “But tell me, what do you want to do?

                         @thegoodfellow​.

               “Robin?” Èdelie called out, still frizzled from the aftermath of prior events. Cluelessness cannot describe the position the brunette is left in, satisfied that all has fallen back in place, yet mortified of what’s potentially left to come. Body unable to physically move, paleness overtook her features, croakily inquiring, “What do we do now?” Because something must be done, and at this rate, she’d do anything to ensure proper reparations for all feys. Though the idea of getting blood on her hands somewhat startled her, Èdelie physically and emotionally felt defeated, suspiring defeat and tiredness.

wadecalhoun​:

          He flinches as Robin tosses the shield atop of them, Wade had expected her vehemence to triumph over all and confusion for what they’re currently enduring, to the way she still came forth to protect him, settles over the Archer as they drift into blackness. He’s unsure of how long he’d been out and Wade snaps to attention, the rustling of trees and the chittering of creatures has Wade standing, or rather scrambling to attention. Robin’s not far off and he half-jumps over to her, kneeling beside her as he unsheathes a knife. It’s poised to strike in his hand, yet his other hand hovers over the autumn fey, frowning down at her with a litany of thoughts and extempore he’d never say aloud. There’d be time to grieve the new chasm between them, but now was not such time for he could have sworn the ground beneath her was swirling, haunted by his own imagination. This place gave him the damned creeps and though his eyes peered around the cavernous depths of the woods, he’s shaking her awake in tandem, a hushed whisper escaping him, “Robin?.. Robin,” more emphasis as he attempted to rouse her, “Where the hell did you take us?” He’s a mere human, he can’t actually sense magic, but everything that revolved around him felt pretty damned fey-like to him, begrudgingly so as his eyes peered past the littering of bodies that surrounded them, listless and still.

...

Awakening comes with Wade’s voice and his shaking, and it takes her a long second to rouse through the sluggishness she feels. Her magic is oddly settled against her skin, an uncomfortable feeling that she has to asses at once, but first, she flickers her eyes open to find Wade above her with a knife on hand. A droll look is sent his way as his words register, and she brushes his hand away as she straightens into a sitting position, not bothering to dignify him with words as she glances around with a level eye. The scenario is familiar for years spent exploring the boundaries near the courts, the Otherworld stands before them but it does not feel right. Not when there is an ominous sentiment settling over her chest as she looks around. Finally, she deigns to look at Wade as she stands up and brushes off any dust that had gotten on her clothes. She does so by hand first, and then attempts to gather a gust of wind, but the air around them is filled with twinkling flames instead. A swift curse leaves her as she cuts her magic.

“I did nothing but throw shields in an attempt to protect us,” she explains him calmly as she looks around. “And if I venture a guess, I would say we are somewhere that looks like the Otherworld, but not quite, as something is interfering with my magic.”

Robin loses control of the situation before she figures out the source of Lain's loss of sanity. Lain moves, a

nd with him come the changelings, rusted weapons reaching beyond what their body would make seem possible as the blade dug far into his skin, the sound wet and all the more revolting as she realizes that it is nothing less than a kill shot. Panic sends her heart racing as she crosses the distance and multiple quick steps, hands stretched before they retreated hesitatingly. She could heal him, she knew this, and yet. And yet she wouldn't. There is far too little magic on her, and healing him would scrap the bottom of her reserves, and she cannot do that. Not when the war is barely beginning, and there is work to be done. A pained expression crosses her face as Lain speaks, a keening hurt as she realizes this is it, she has killed her wolf.

The Fall Chancellor is about to open her mouth to reassure him that she knows, that she is ore than well aware that under normal circumstances he would never betray her as he had done.

But she is too late.

Between one breath and the next, Lain is gone, and she is left blinking out his blood from her eyes, the sticky substance smattering her face and clinging to her eyelashes.

It's not a sight that she will forget any time soon.

He wanted nothing more than to give up and run.  But he had no control over his body anymore, the Drow had warped his mind beyond reason.  The only thing that manifested in his thoughts was kill. The wolf charged at Robin once again, only to be intercepted by one of her changelings. For a split second, Lain managed to wrestle back some semblance of control over his corporeal form.  He could have easily evaded the fungal changeling’s blade, but he did not move.  The sword pierced his stomach, the tip protruding from his back.  Pain bloomed through his midsection and it was enough to snap him out of his rampage, his body shrinking back into his human shape.  The room started to spin, he was losing so much blood from a pierced artery, he collapsed against the nearest wall. 

“Robin, I’m so sorry,” He managed to gasp out, blood dripping from his mouth.  His shaking hands clutched the open wound on his abdomen, trying in vain to hold back the ichor freely cascading from the gash.  Tears welled in his eyes, he glanced down at his wound then back at the fall chancellor. He would be dead soon, but that fact had not dawned on him yet. “I-I didn’t mean to-,” He couldn’t even finish his sentence before his body exploded. Splattered red viscera was all that was left of him. His lifeblood painted Robin’s clothing, the changelings standing guard, the walls, everything. 

Maybe the world would be a better place with him gone.  This was what he always wanted, right? Death. 

edeliexii​:

        It’s a troubling situation across the board. Èdelie predicts things will likely become more gruesome as time progresses. While fairly new to all things fey, making the decision to try and destroy the crystal was the right thing to do. The plight she’s beginning to embrace is enough for her to shut down, gnawing at her lesser lip in response to Robin’s recommendation. “I don’t know,” she grumbled under her breath, agitated at the image of her engaging in conflict. “There has to be something we can do where self-defense isn’t necessary. I love… us; I love being a fey, and I’m undoubtedly hurt by what transpired, but this is too much to bear.” And it’s too much to process in such a short amount of time, pondering upon what she can do to help ease the situation. “It’s not my livelihood I have to take into consideration, it’s others I truly care about that need protecting. The question is if doing this is worth it.” Èdelie could promptly evaluation the necessary behavioral decision, imploring the risk factors of it all.

...

“I am afraid that it might be impossible to remain in the sidelines,” the words are delivered grimly, lips pressed together into a tight smile as her eyes wander away from the young eladrin. Words form and reform on her mind as the tries to encapsulate the true weight of what they are confronting without scaring the poor dear. Life has never been a fairy tale, and she knows Èdelie is aware of the fact. Robin doesn’t know, however, how well she understands the events on the horizon. Most mortals do not, and she was a mortal a mere months ago. It is heartwarming to see her resolve to help others, her resolve to protect and yet. “Unfortunately dear, it is our livelihood that you should take into consideration. Rome is besieged by enemies, yes, and everyone is at risk, but as an eladrin you are doubly so. Our kind is being hunted as we speak, and while we are setting up our own hunting party to counterattack this, that does not take away the risk for us. “

There is no sign of nervousness as she speaks, even though she would very much like to fidget. Instead, she tilts her head in consideration.

“And truly, Èdelie, we are at the precipice of war with multiple parties, I would dare to say that we are not doing enough, rather than we are doing too much,” the words are grim, but she cannot deny the truth to the young fey,  not when she is struggling to make a vital choice. “So to answer your question, the answer is yes. It is worth it.”

"Aurora, my dearest friend. I would find you in the middle of a forest fire without aid," Robin drawls dramatically as she steps past another ice barrier, raising a hand to her chest to add to add to her dramatics. "Of course, the ice show did help, but truly, you are far too bright to be hidden regardless."

She nods at her logic, flawless as usual, and she is glad to be able to contribute to the conversation with something more than her own guesses.

"I ran into Laer on the way here, he is currently fetching Tamlen. I believe he went on the direction of the Senate's current base, but I do not know if he changed his path," she offers. It is unfortunate that she does not know where Zahrya is, but Aurora is likely right. Zahrya is likely to return to the Forest now that they have separated. That, or to find his demon lover to have him close as they fight. Either way, he will be relatively safe and easy to find. Eyes narrowed, Robin considers their options, only to pause when Aurora speaks once more. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Will that stop you from trying once more?"

This union of their Chancellor magic had been a lot more potent than what had happened at Halloween. But, unlike Halloween, Aurora hadn't need a moment to recuperate. The elf reinforced their borders and fought while her fellows recovered up until that moment, becoming the center of a storm unlike any other that the once winter eladrin had ever conjured. Unforgiving ice and blue fire. Rarely did a soul pass through and, when they did, they were met with blade and shield. But Aurora was one storm in a sea of warriors and still she doubted even a god themself would be able to stop the onslaught of the drow forces. Their enemy had collective strength beyond anything she had ever seen, or anything she had ever seen from the memories of her ancestors.

Huginn hadn't needed to inform Aurora of the Autumn Chancellor's approach - she felt the familiarity and made sure not even a flake of snow touched Robin as she approached. "Hope it wasn't too hard to find me," Aurora joked, though her tone and her expression were as serious as death. She conjured up another wall of ice immediately where one had just fallen to a monstrous beast just a few blocks away. "No. But something tells me Tamlen isn't dead, not by Laer's reaction." Tamlen had certainly changed, changed into something. Plus, Aurora would have expected an ocean by Laer to drown half the city or a sandstorm to blind them all in his rage. "I have a feeling he'd be looking for him now." Aurora felled the monster, the tentacled thing bursting into shatters of crystalline ice. "Zahrya would never go far from the Forest."

There was a moment of hesitation but Aurora couldn't keep the sense of impending doom to herself anymore. "We're not going to be able to hold this city, Robin."

wintersaurora​:

❅

“Wonderful,” she muttered softly. “Next time I come across a terrified mother, family to my dead lover, I will absolutely seek to make a more exploitative promise.” Aurora sighed. She could already hear her father’s voice in her head telling her there was no need for her attitude now. Robin had no idea how many years Aurora had tried little nudges in the right direction for Raja, only to get nowhere. She relaxed her shoulders and sighed, letting the defensive aggression fall away. “If I could ask him if he’d like to know that his entire world was full of the monsters in his nightmares and stories, I’d have done so.” Aurora gazed over at Robin, thoughtful. “You’ve spent as much time in the mortal realm as myself, at the very least. Most of them can be stubbornly blind and those that aren’t…” She trailed away pointedly. It was a slippery slope, one they’d all witnessed. Fear could lead to understanding, but it could also lead to violence.

...

“Well, when you word it like that it’s an issue, you make it sound so wrong,” there is a look of mild judgment on Robin’s gaze as she takes a sip from the drink she had swiped from one of the passing servers. “But regardless, my answer would be yes, you should. We are long lived beings, my friend, we need to ensure the promises we make allow us room to be creative. What we believe to be right today, might not be what we believe in tomorrow, after all. Seasons change, and with them the truth. You should know that as well as I do. Sometimes, promises meant to protect, don’t do anything but harm.”

Robin meets Aurora’s thoughtful gaze with a calm one of her own. She understands her struggle, in a way, but at the same time, the things she mentions do not apply here. If she is worried about the man’s future in Rome due to supernatural influences —  Well, ignorance isn’t bliss. That is all that needs to be said, and if phrased delicately, most enemies can become allies.

“Do you fear he is going to react negatively to the news? If so, he can be killed or bound so that he does not harm any supernatural,” she points out, mildly. “And if it is not that. The only thing that could be holding you back is that you are afraid he might look at you differently after. And well, that is no excuse at all, is it? Apologies if I come across as harsh, but this situation is rather worrying.”