Wadecalhoun​:

Tati Gabrielle by Tiziano Lugli

wintersaurora​:

❅

Aurora sighed, rolling her eyes but nodding. “I understand, Rob, I do. But unless you’ve been in that situation, I really could not explain to you how difficult it is to think of anything but giving peace of mind to the people that you care about, especially when you’ve already made their family’s life difficult to begin with by bringing in your own world.” She wouldn’t have bothered even explaining that much, as little as it was, had it not been Robin. But Aurora had known her, barely after the cusp of maturity, and so she had always held her words back less. They flowed out like a reckless young adult’s.

“I never mind how harsh you are, you already know I don’t. But don’t extend that to him and don’t act like you know my nephew or the situation better than I do. If you mention anything about him getting killed or bound again, I’m going to take that very seriously,” Aurora replied, impressively calm. “And I’m trying to be level-headed tonight. So while you’ve given me some sage counsel, Robin, the best you can do now is keep an eye on him every once in a while if you’d like to help him in any way. That is all.” Though much unlike their youth, Aurora now spoke with the crushing finality of a Chancellor. 

...

“According to you our experiences do not align in the slightest,” she notes, voice amused still even as the ever present warmth fades from her eyes. It is not that Aurora is fully wrong, and yet she is not fully right either. She had brought plenty of mortals into their world, whether they wanted to learn about it or not. Anne and William had just been the beginning, the parents and childrens she had set up for her plans a continuance of said actions. Despite the Chancellors assumptions, she knew rather well what it mean to bring someone to this world. She did not care for all of her birds equally, but she is not heartless and there are some she had loved and lost for the greater good. Still, she gives Aurora some grace, as she knows nothing of what is going on behind the scenes. ”I will simply add that I have actually experience similar situations, but I see that doesn’t matter so I shall keep the rest of my words to myself.”

Aurora is an old friend, and Robin will always hold her dear for that. That doesn’t mean that Robin approves of her every action, nor she likes some of them. The younger eladrin’s tendency to default to her position as a Chancellor as a trump card over and over again is one of the things that grate her the most. It’s truly infuriating when she believes herself to be better just because her father died before his time and she was chosen to replace them. Yes, Aurora had the prowess and the intelligence necessary to assume the role of chancellor, but damn did her arrogance undermine her every move when she used her title to end every argument, assuming that being a chancellor could make up for being wrong.

“Of course, Chancellor,” she says thinly, with a brief yet almost mocking bow to demonstrate her annoyance at the other’s use of her position in what was supposed to be a conversation amidst friends. “I will endeavor to do as Your Excellency orders, despite the fact you do not head my court.”

Winter arrived with it's full splendor, it's icy touch spreading through the Lunar Court and beyond Gate. Frost had reached the boards of the Dusk Court that it shared with Aurora's court, the last days of Autumn smattering with coldness. It's a rather beautiful sigh, the slow combination between Dusk and Lunar, and she quite enjoys walking near the borders, the chill settling on her bones as she observes the results of entropy on action. Alas, duty calls, even as the Solstice Festival it's at it's apex. Robin had turned in early, as soon as Aurora had been called away for a manner relating her denizens, and had made it to the boarder between the courts with a languid step, only to be called away by one of the fluttering pixies regarding an audience with a Dusk elf whose name she does not recognize.

How curious.

Part of her training before her sacrifice to the Holt, had been to memorize the name of the survivors that had followed them to the Fey's Forest after the court fell. Hesperia is not a name she recognizes from amidst the survivors, and she wonders if she has found herself a pilgrim for her court. Perhaps Laer has finally met his match.

Snickering to herself at the thought, she makes it towards her office where the stranger awaits and opens the door to a strangely familiar presence. How curious. She had not known her by her name, but she did know the stranger before her. Robin needed a glimpse of her face to be sure, but if she is right, her Court owes the stranger for Robin's life, and she is very determined to fulfill her debts.

"Far from it, that you asked for an audience despite the festivities is telling," she comments as she moves to sit on her desk chair and gestures at the other to stop bowing. She understands the decorum, but she has never been one for it outside from formal situations. "If the matter is important, I am thankful you want to bring it to my attention sooner than later."

Date: December 17-23rd, one of the nights after the festival Location: Audele, Dusk Fields Characters: @thegoodfellow & @hidinghesperia Notes: future pumpkin wives

The first brush of winter had come to the world and yet nothing gave her sibling joy, not even the gently drifting snowflakes. Hesperia went to the Lunar Court first, if only because she had been terrified that the Lunar Chancellor would deny her 'useless' sibling any welcome. That paranoid fear had been for nothing but The Tranquil was Hesperia's priority so, with the assurance that her sibling was welcomed and being looked after, Hesperia finally headed to the Dusk Fields and to who she knew to be her new Chancellor. She remained quiet, out of the way, soft-spoken and stubbornly mysterious despite the curiousity that she could feel emanating from the other Dusk elves that, most of them, had likely never seen the common elf before. Hesperia only spoke to ask where she could to find the Chancellor and was led to wait for an audience with her. Robin, they said was her name. Young but tenacious. The other common elf had gossiped how their Chancellor had succeeded a traitor in the midst of brewing war despite never having prepared for the role. That sort of challenge would make anyone crass and so Hesperia only hoped for her and her sibling's sake that that wasn't the case. She was terrified for them. For their sake she needed to make a good impression - she needed to grovel on her knees if that's what it took.

"Chancellor," Hesperia greeted, immediately standing up as the door suddenly opened. She didn't even give herself enough time to properly look at who Robin was before the common elf inclined her head respectfully and turned her gaze downward. Hesperia was lithe and clad in dark, simple elven clothing, the sort of clothes made for lots of free movement. She had covered her hair and her ears with a equally dark scarf, if only because it had made it easier for her to sneak around that way while in the Otherworld and now it served to hide her ears from mortals. "I apologize for asking for an audience so late and during city festivities."

Tati Gabrielle

who? @sabinabrutus​

where? the graveyard

Fire is an element that comes to Robin as easy as breathing, an intricate diamond blade set aflame manifesting on her hand as soon as the danger makes itself known. She had sensed the strange magic as soon as it had swept upon Rome, heard the words of the Pythia and felt the dread swept over her as her clairvoyance hit her with the all consuming emotion. Then chaos falls upon the once melodious party and she sets asides her worries to examine later, fire sweeping around her as she hums, the smell of Autumn following her as blistering flames consume Terrors and protect the living. She will not allow harm to befell to anyone, not if she can help it. Eladrin might be her priority, but she would never allow the fate of a Terror befell an innocent soul.

“Down, mortal,” she orders the pretty woman before she sweeps her blade above her and decapitates an unsuspecting Terror.

Why so weary? Why so scared to be seen? That’s what I want in friends. To be inspired to wonder.  Who is she?

who? @yaviefey​

where? the vatican

when? everything is on fire, the bethroded has died

notes: where in the world is waldo farenduil

It is with desperate surprise that she pulls Yavie back from another feral vampire an into another room. A brief gesture has the door closing with a barrier, but her mind is being pulled away in countless directions as she seeks the other members of her court, the members of her people. She had only known of the Chancellors, the Princes, the Marshals and the Senators invitations, but there is always the fear that more of their kind were in danger.

“Are you alright? Have you an eye on Faren? Mery? Anyone?” She asks, voice desperate as she eyes the door she is sure will not hold for long. Reinforcing it is useless, as they must leave before it is too late.

wintersaurora​:

Sympathy and pity came to Aurora in droves, and if she’d had even half of the arrogant pride that she’d possessed only months before, it would have made her sick. Now she was too tired to care, too knowledgable of how easily it was to lose all of it - all of them. The last time something similar to this had happened to her, Aurora had spent so long cold and dead to then all but explode with vengeance towards Titania, spurred in that direction by Fen’harel and her own bubbling resentment and overwhelming grief. But she wouldn’t allow herself to make that mistake again. When her time to explode came, it would be in a rage directed rightfully to Ayi’ig. She could save it until then, let it fester in her chest as she went absently through the motions of surviving each day.

Robin’s appearance was reminiscent to her of Fen’harel, the other Autumn Chancellor that had come to her in concern for her well-being. How so much had changed. Aurora had been looking out at the Winter fey working on bringing down that ridiculous statue that Laer had encouraged them to put up. She’d probably have them store it in some cave. But now she turned her attention to Robin as she came up the steps and spoke. “Sure,” she replied softly. No joy but no annoyance either. It was inevitable that they spoke. “… Though I know you’re sorry for what happened and I appreciate any concern you might have, I would prefer not to dwell on my state right now. I promise you enough other people are caring.” 

...

Aurora’s permission is all she needs to walk to the other’s side and set the basket delicately by her side, occupying her hands on opening the cork. The movement pulls slightly at the new scar that occupies her stomach, but not enough for her to show any sign of pain. It has been long enough that the scar is almost fully healed, long enough that it will soon enough be nothing but a reminder of humanity’s worst. A reminder that trusting humans is a foolish endeavor and to believe on her instincts rather than on her whims. A reminder that as a Chancellor, her own desires do not matter, she must destroy anyone who wants to harm her people before they can attempt to do so.

“You have no idea how much I wish I could use sarcasm the human way right now,” Robin offers flatly as she uncorks the cider and hums a melody to create two glasses, filling them up with it and offering one to Aurora. “Are we not friends? Are we not fellow Chancellors? Do I not have the right to be concerned? Or do you not consider my concern as truthful as you would want because you only see me as Fen’harel’s failure of a replacement, Aurora?” The last question is asked flatly. All she had wanted was to ensure that her friend was alright, and yes, she understands the distress Aurora has suffered is unspeakable, but she has always been confrontational and the sense of betrayal is too fresh, the thought of her weakness too heavy, for her not to default into her old instincts. She regrets the words as soon as they leave her lips, though, and she sighs, a hand raising to rub her eyes tiredly. “Apologies, everyone is on edge right now, including me, but I should not have said that.”

who? @springlia where? the memorial pathway

One step after the other, the sound resonating all around her as she makes her way through the Memorial Pathway with quiet reflection. The month of planning had been worth it, the hours spent learning from the elders and the daimona leaving their mark on her psyche and her confidence. Robin feels more like herself than she has ever felt, settled into her skin now that there is no hesitation with her step. It's a pleasant yet odd feeling, and she had taken to the pathway to meditate upon it. Despite it all, she did not expect to see the spring fey on her path. Their situation had driven Robin to learn the names and faces of all the survivors, so she knows the name of the fey before her. A former exile, now resworn to the courts.

"If I recall correctly, you were invited to the solstice," she muses as she steps closer to settle at her side. "Did we have the pleasure of hosting you?"