fairynuff | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

[ Bright-hearted spirits, so full of hope... Someone is being kissed, so soft an warm. I almost feel it upon my lips. Power, beneath the stones. Blood has been splashed here...

Her head was abuzz with it, ringing with unwanted information. Some of the words she heard herself speaking, and she gripped the stone balustrade of the narrow balcony to cement herself, cement her mind. It felt like a widely-cast net, catching too much; how could she parse what was meaningful? The other hand clenched into a fist, and she tucked it against her chest, pressed against the clothes which hid the scar over the place where her heart should be. ]

... This is all wrong...

Arriving

To say Annabeth was a bit skeptical of everything going on would have been one of those great, classic understatements like 'rain is wet' or 'Hera is a jerk.' The silver-eyed teen didn't believe a word of what was going on, which was why she had slipped away from the faeries that had lured her here almost immediately and set out on her own through Caer Glaem.

Okay, she could believe this was...somewhere new. Some place she'd never heard of before. Sure, why not. Just because everything old kept coming back to try and kill her and her friends didn't mean the world couldn't come up with some new things too. Although admittedly this was all a bit...much.

She could be found wandering her way quietly through the city, keeping to the sides of the hallways and streets, one hand loosely gripping the hilt of her knife, the other hooked through the strap of the backpack she'd been lucky enough to have on her shoulder when she had wound up here.

The people seemed friendly enough, and she recognized the confused expressions on others who might have been brought here much the same as she had. But she wasn't quite ready to risk speaking to anyone, not yet. Not until she had enough information. Or at least more information.

Occasionally she would just stop and stare at one of the buildings though, seemingly captivated by the structure itself. The architecture here was strange, foreign and unfamiliar, and yet at the same time absolutely fascinating. The little part of her mind not busy figuring out what in Hades was going on made a mental note to sketch some of these before she escaped back home.

Eventually though, she managed to turn herself around, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, every attempt to return to the feast she had been told about results in winding up even more lost.

So she picked out someone who looked perhaps a bit less puzzled by everything going on and approached, cautiously. "Excuse me."

Wildcard - Outside of Caer Glaem

Once she had come to terms with everything, had gotten the explanations and the speeches and been assured that all of this was real, Annabeth had taken a few hours to slip from the city, heading out into the fields beyond, just to get away from everything for a little while.

She needed to think, needed to clear her head, and if there was one thing that had never been great for that, it was crowds. Too many places for a monster to hide, for the mist to make her miss something (assuming this wasn't all somehow some mist trick...) Too many reasons for her to be unable to settle her mind.

And on a personal note (as much as she tried to ignore it) she wanted to see the city from a distance, to take in the buildings and spires and castle as one whole unit, as a city instead of just individual parts. Since her work on rebuilding Olympus, she'd developed an appreciation for things as a whole, rather than just the structures of individual places. A building could be beautiful, but a city, a well planned, well organized city could be something...indescribable.

Which is why she wound up sitting on a hill, facing Caer Glaem, with a notepad on her lap, quietly sketching the skyline and letting her mind wander over the various things people had told her about this strange new world. The magic locket she had been given sat open on the ground by her knee, just in case the things she had been told about what it could do were actually true.

[ooc: prose or comment spam are both fine! Or if someone wants to try and say something through the lockets, she'll hear it!]

Edited 2014-09-11 22:12 (UTC)

[ the boy who wanders through the great halls of caer glaem is not, in fact, a boy at all. rather, the form of a massive wolf looms through the hallways, padding on soft paws down the carpeting and looking from left to right, ears twitching every now and then. this is a wolf on the hunt, trying to find its surroundings, following scents that might be familiar, crushing down the panic that seems to be following along. for the wolf wandering caer glaem isn't necessarily a wolf, either.

he'd been with the wolves in the forest, ripping the flesh from a Crow and considering the pack, when suddenly, as soon as anything, wolf and boy both were taken to a strange castle by creatures bran thought might have been the mythic children of the forest jojen had mentioned, and so he'd assumed that jojen and meera would not be far behind. but when bran truly awoke in the castle, they were gone.

the only thing to do was to warg, to search the grounds with swift feet and a powerful nose. bran felt no guilt in doing so, no matter how often he'd been chided (he'd just been in summer mere moments before his arrival) but this merited a special case. he would not lose himself to the wolf when his thoughts were only of his companions, he told himself firmly, and that was that.

where summer walks through the halls, bran leans against a post where he'd been dropped; he looks nearly comatose to a bystander, his eyes rolled back in his head, twitching occasionally but otherwise not moving from his position in the hall. ]

This is the Fade.

It was the only conclusion he could come to, upon the sight of the bizarre feast lain out before him, the strange creatures and half-men that populated it. His tongue curled in his mouth and he sucked on his teeth, nose wrinkling in deep and obvious distaste.

He snatched a goblet of wine from a passing tray, almost with enough violence to make its bearer stumble... and looked around for any familiar face, jaw clenching. Though it's clear he's searching the crowd, he'll not stoop to asking any assistance, and for the most part brushes off the other party-goers, shouldering through knots of them in conversation where it suits him, while he's crossing to the celebration's other side, aiming for the doors which lead to the courtyard.

[ it all passes by in a bit of a rush, honestly. first she's hanging off the edge of the cliff, percy's got her hand in his, they're talking to nico and hanging over tartarus and then there's a painful tug. annabeth's ankle still throbs just thinking about it, a painful jab shooting up her leg to her gut. but then percy had tightened his hand - you're not getting away from me. never again - and they'd fallen.

the wind was so loud that she couldn't do much but cling onto him, tucking her face in his shoulder and keeping him close, and then?

well. this wasn't what she thought tartarus would be, that's for sure. something about meetings, being briefed. she recalls being told this about seelies and that about unseelies and so much information that she could barely even process it, and then told to have fun. fun. annabeth doubted she would be able to get to that point, considering how her heart is still in her throat as she heads down the hall, eyes still wide. because as much as she might want to explore, as much as she might need to find out where she is and how she got here, there's something a little more pressing at the front of her mind, the top of her priorities.

percy.

being able to move without the sharp pain from her ankle is a blessing, and allows her to move a little faster as she follows the sounds of people, of music. if percy is around here, he would have gravitated that way - towards the groups, the crowding. she knows he has to be looking for her, so as long as she can get her bearings and find some kind of weapon (she's not sure she's ever going to forgive herself for losing her dagger like she had), she can find percy and get out.

it's not until she makes it to those main doors that she stops, freezes in place, at the sight before her. it's definitely a feast, a party, with the bells and whistles that camp halfblood would sometimes pull off. the room is huge, and the people moving around - laughing, eating, enjoying themselves - are making her dizzy. she tries to pick out his head, his hair, his anything, but she's overwhelmed by the sight of it, the word she mutters coming out more like a sigh. ]

Gods.

[ where was she? ]

[Well, this is bad.

This was not Aglarond. It wasn't Fangorn. It wasn't Eryn Lasgalen, Ithilen, or any of the places he could have been. It was some...other, and Gimli as a rule was not overly fond of "other".

He can be found pretty much everywhere, grumbling and generally not happy.

Unless he knows you, anyway. Then he might cheer up.]

Edited 2014-09-11 21:59 (UTC)

1. VIDEO/seelie&unseelie

[ The young man that can be seen via the lockets doesn't look too good; bags under his eyes, a dejected slump to his shoulders and hair that seems to have been run through with his fingers a few times stands on end. His voice, the icing on the cake, is uncertain and reedy with stress. ~~Reedy anyway, but.~~ ]

Astrid? Mom? Is there ... Can anyone from home hear me? Urgh. [ Rubbing his eyes, he gains a wry slant to a disingenuous smile. ] Okay, so obviously the "goblins and fairies are real" talk is somewhat redundant at this stage, but I don't recall ever doing anything to aggravate the mystical population out there so if anybody would care to tell these guys on my behalf that they've made a mistake, that'd be great. Alternatively, point me in the direction of any other Vikings around here so I can find my bearings.

I really just want to find my dragon and get back to where I need to be, it's important. [ But, oh. That's a good point; if he was brought here against his will, maybe ... ] He's a Night Fury — my dragon, I mean — big and black, called Toothless. You can't miss him if he's around here somewhere. Well, you could but, uh ... Just — Just let me know if you see him. Please? Thank you.

2. UNSEELIE FEAST

[ He sits at one end of the table with his head in his hands, the glow of the candlelight blocked out so it doesn't dredge up vivid memories of his father's ship sailing into the distance. This whole ordeal wouldn't be so bad if he had Toothless here, if he had anyone, but there's no one to feasibly help and nothing to be done about it.

Hiccup has been kidnapped by goblins and trolls. Unbelievable. He swigs his second pint of ale thinking, not for the first time, Gobber would find this hilarious, and tries not to inspire conversation. ]

3. UNSEELIE LIBRARY

[ A week into his kidnapping and there's a small tundra of scrolls, books and vellum sheets in a corner of the library by a well-used desk. Comparing all the rumours of the Ljósálfar in the southlands with what he knows, there's a bit of cross-referencing going on with other cultures to pick out useful information when it comes to dealing with them because, Hel, he doesn't want to stay with the dark creatures. (Once he found stories of extinct dragons, he dragged a blanket into the library and refused to leave, determined to find the faintest traces of them.) Today, Hiccup can be found sorting through this and that, making lists and taking notes, the more salient of which he scribbles down in the notepad inside his right vambrace.

Busy, busy, busy, what do you want. ]

Edited 2014-09-11 22:05 (UTC)

01. Arrival

Athos thinks he may have drunk too much.

The whole situation has left him on edge, confused, and distinctly unhappy. Not that the latter is particularly noticeable, given that his default nature tends towards that. He's eyeing the rest of the revellers with the air of someone who expects a fight to break out at any minute. Who may in fact be the one to start it.

His fingers are closed very securely around a bottle of wine, which is about the only way he is coping with this whole situation right now. Every so often he sips it while staring at something particularly odd. The fairies flitting to-and-fro, for example. The more exotic of their guests.

Athos changes his mind. He has not drunk enough.

~~02. The Station~~

03. Wildcard

Choose your own adventure!

Edited 2014-09-11 22:07 (UTC)

Arrival:

Holy Rabies this place is awesome!

[ Says the goth looking girl as she looks around staring in awe at the place she had been brought into. Her fathers hotel was massive and impressive, but this place was even more so. And it was completely not what she was used to. Her blue eyes were huge as she continued to look around and take in all the new people, the sights the smells... everything.

Except it gradually dawned on her that she was surrounded by people. Not monsters, at least not in the sense that she was used to, but people. Humans. Suddenly she froze on the spot, the wonder becoming mixed with fear and confusion. ]

You're not going to bite my toes or burn my clothes are you?

[ Yes for all intents and purposes, someone who looked more or less like a teenager was asking a question like she was five. ]

Edited 2014-09-11 22:11 (UTC)

[ video network post ]
[ Malia was freaking out. was. when she first got here after being kidnapped by imps( ????? ), and nothing smelled familiar or even much like home at all. she freaked, yeah. alone, in some room off the main Station platform. had to focus really hard on not panicking in the bad were-way that she could when her emotions spiked like this. luckily, she managed. and maybe she was still working on the whole scenting thing, but it was confusing to smell what could be pack, but nothing else that really- made sense. not the woods of Beacon Hills, at least, which she could pretty much always scent back home. so she spent too long trying to sniff out her surroundings ( she knows that's weird, she knows, but she's choosing to ignore the sound of Stiles' voice saying "you can't just go around smelling things, Malia" in her head in favor of doing something proactive to try and figure out what this place was ), before she went back to that little room to stew in her confusion more.

whatever, she tried. gold star.

so now she's on her ..locket, ( a locket that's apparently trying hard to be a cellphone ), staring at the screen for a second after it cues up because maybe she still doesn't really get the whole video chat thing. she doesn't ever really use skype, she'd rather just run to someone's house to talk to them. so, yeah. there's some staring, and then- ] ]

-- Oh. Okay, hi.

I have to be up early for school tomorrow. [ a beat ] If I fail this math test, I'll have to repeat junior year. [ another beat ] And it's Stiles' first lacrosse game of the season tomorrow, too. [ a third beat! is this awkward yet? ] I can't miss it. It's important.

So can I go home now?

[ action spam ]
[ or you can catch her around the station, the castle of caer scima, pretty much just wandering around like someone trying to find something ( or someone ) very particular, sniffing out the place. literally. or! stuffing her face at the feast. she does loooove deer. bring on the venison! and don't be alarmed if she growls when you reach for the last biscuit, she just- does that. sometimes. she's working on it!]

Edited 2014-09-11 22:23 (UTC)

This whole place is upside down and honestly? All Kelsi wants to do is charge her phone. In a weird world full of fairy rings and monsters and imps, she just wants some music. Not medieval-like music, of course, just her own. She can't do that without her iPod, where she records a lot of things, her things, and it's something so familiar and part of her. It's never been more important to her than now.

She's only been in this place a few days, mostly quietly keeping to herself. She's not a fighter, she's not good at healing or anything like that. Nothing for a war. She supposes he should feel bad she's not at Julliard, but mostly her mind is focused on the now and how she's not helping.

...And even if she could help with stuff like that, would she? Kelsi's not exactly one for conflict. If she was uncomfortable with Troy and Gabriella's conflict when they broke up, how is she going to handle something like war?

With music, she guesses, and quietly makes her way o the actual station, trying to ignore how weird everything looks. She just needs to listen to her music, maybe sing a few things, and--

"Does anyone know where the plugs are?"

Arrival:

I'm home.

That is the first thing that crosses Diarmuid's mind once he has time to actually think about what is happening to him. From the wee folk who led him here to the lord and lady ruling over it all. Of course, he knows it is not home, but it is a whole lot closer to home than the modern world he had been called back into before.

That thought causes the first frown to cross Diarmuid's face since he arrived. The news that he carries a magical shard inside of him doesn't faze him. The idea that there is a war for possession of said shards seems almost normal, but it is the fact that he has been pulled away from another war--from his vows and promises to his lord in that war--that makes him unhappy. Still, if the only way to return home is to finish the war here, there is no doubt when it comes to what he needs to do.

Now he just needs to learn more about this place so he can figure out how to do that.

Locket [Video]-Open to both courts:

Taken from one war and placed into another. At least, the setting for this one fits me much better than the other did. I know that it is unlikely, but is there anyone here who knows the name Lord El-Melloi?

[Diarmuid realizes that it is not likely his Lord is here. He doesn't feel their bond, which in and of itself is a concern. Where is the energy that is keeping him going coming from? What happens if it suddenly is cut off?]

If you do know a man by that name, please tell him his knight is here and is awaiting his orders.

[The feast has acquired a scowler.

The boy at the table has a plate full of sweets. That's all it is: cakes, tarts, things dripping with fruit and nuts and honey and cream. He's also trying to pour himself a big glass of wine, but he's using only one hand to do so. The cloak he wears conceals from view the fact that he has only one hand - only one arm - but it may become evident as he teeters and curses, nearly falling into his plate of sweets. Help him, or laugh at him, or scold a little boy for trying to get into the wine.]

Arrival

He sucks in a breath, suddenly quite certain this is no dream. Magic prickles his senses as it had when he'd seen The Fool press his fingers into the strange river, when he'd seen again the cockerel crown...

There is no face that's familiar. He swallows, thickly, reaching for a sword that isn't there.

After some dizzying time spent adjusting, he walks about the feast as a servant looking for his master, trying to make himself seem demure, asking after Lord Golden. But the more blank stares he receives... the more surly and sharp his manner.

Wildcard!
Whatever goes!

[Court Feast]

[Perhaps the one thing Wolfram isn't concerned about is whether the food is poisoned. Seriously, what would be the point of that? Gather all these people to fight for whatever side, and then their hosts kill them? Please. He's of the opinion that a poisoned feast is about as likely as the High King and Queen of the Court juggling for their entertainment.

No, he's more concerned about two things in particular. First and foremost on his mind is his fiance, just on account of the wimp being a hopeless case. It's a miracle the boy king has lived this long, to be honest. Not to mention, with all these people from countless different worlds, he doesn't want Yuuri to get any ideas about flirting with any of them.

The other thing is that he wonders if his magic will even work in this world. Not that it's a smart idea to try it right now. Whether or not these people deserve his trust, Wolfram isn't going to set fire to anything while he's a guest of this castle, and neither will he endanger people unnecessarily. He'll just have to experiment with that at a more appropriate time and place.

Either way, Wolfram scans the crowd for familiar faces, mostly hoping for Yuuri's if only so he can better protect the Demon King, but he'll not say no to his brothers or the Great Wise Man.]

[Wildcard]

[Throw me a prompt?]

video - both courts

[Ah, she thinks. Her room is neater than she left it, the last time she was here. But it's mostly the same. Someone tidied up after she left - she ought to find them and apologise, because there's no way this room is staying so clean.

she's looking out her window, when the locket opens. The grounds are still utterly breath taking. Almost like a dream. She gives the locket a big smile.]

Caer Glaem is still really beautiful, isn't it?

[It's a wistful tone. And then, a more reassured one:] Have no fear, everyone! The incredible Usagi has returned!

[She lifts and arm, showing off her muscles (read: pretend muscles) and winks. She's on her own again, but this time she knows everyone's waiting for her. ]

I think I've missed a lot, haven't I?

action

[Usagi heads straight to the great hall. It's almost a sprint; her stomach growls and then she's off like a shot. You might see her running through the corridors, or even pushing the heavy doors open with inhuman strength. She helps herself to a giant plate and fills it up with chicken and bread and fruit. Derek had already gone, she remembers, before she had.

She frowns a little, at that. No more Minako and no handsome jerk to give her left overs too. It's a sad day.

She lifts a huge chicken leg and tries very hard to eat it one go. Behold, the future Queen of the world. ]

Feast

Uther Doul can be social when he chooses to be and some have even called him gregarious, but that was a long time ago, in another country, and nearly all those who would say such a thing are dead. While not particularly out-going, he has made the decision to attend the welcome feast and seems quietly amused at some small, personal bit of good humour. The scenery may be different from Bas-Lag, the assembled people too human for his tastes, but the reactions are all similar enough: disbelief, anger, the desire to make good and make a new life.

Until he has had the time to properly take stock of this world and its people, he will remain aimless and ready to move where the winds of probability take him. For now, he'll eat. Those near him may notice that his clothing is cut to accommodate a series of wires that run alongside and into his right arm, ending with a series of metal brads embedded in the palm of his hand. These devices seem to line up with matching indentations on the grip of the ceramic sword at his hip.

Locket

[For good or ill, if there is one thing Doul has a gift for it is understanding devices based on unusual or unknown technology. The locket is curious. The style of it is common enough that if he didn't know better, he'd assume it was some cheap trinket, but he’s worked out how to operate and it’s use is nothing like anything he's seen; neither Teshi, nor Crobuzoner, nor any known nation.

Soon, he's skimmed through bits and pieces of the network and is ready to make his mark. The image displayed is of a man somewhere in his late thirties with short, grey hair and cold blue eyes. He’s dressed in lightweight leather armour that’s designed for boarding and raiding and it shows signs of wear and good upkeep. He is a man who uses his tools hard, but pays them the respect they deserve.]

I am Uther Doul of Armada, formerly a Liveman of High Cromlech. If these places mean anything to you, please step forward.

If not, know that I understand what it is to be press-ganged.

[His voice is soft and almost inhumanly lovely. He speaks in Salt, the common sailor's tongue of his hybridized home. Whatever his audience hears him speaking, he'll have a faint, odd accent that has more to do with the timing of his words than any trouble with the sounds.]

A. The Seelie Court.

[She regarded the feast hall with intrigue, definitely - listening to the music, regarding the clothes and species of everyone who's gathered - but she hasn't partaken.

Winding up in an alternate world is, naturally, a thing she knows by experience can happen, and she's had no immediate sign that either of the ones she knows is in danger, but how does she know that this isn't a sign of it? And even if it isn't, it's - sad, maddening if she's wound up here on her own again, after she thought that she would never need to split from her counterpart again.

She's wandering an open-air hall near the feast hall, sitting on a wall, enjoying late-day air, and thinking.

An ear will bat when she hears footsteps - and she'll turn to gently pardon herself to anyone passing by, a little white cat with big blue eyes speaking in an unaffected woman's voice.]

I need to get in contact with a friend, a human girl named Hikari Yagami. We're partners.

I don't suppose you know if anyone by that name's also supposed to be living here?

B. The Wilderness.

[It looks as if you're part of a group heading out into the Drabwurld's wilds someplace - presumably on a job for the monarchs, whichever ones they are on your end!

Tailmon spent the first half of her childhood wandering and plenty more of it out roughing it - she's been taking it all in consistent stride and with determination. You've got to rest at some point, of course, and at some point, with a shifting in the sky just one degree dark enough, she slows to a smooth stop wherever she's walking, turns her ears, gives the woods nearby a scan...]

Do you think we should stop here?

We've gotten far today. If we rest, it won't be trouble to keep at least this pace tomorrow.

[fairies.

out of all the things that he's gone through, jordan didn't expect fairies to be the next big "open wide, here comes the supernatural" event. and it is an event; he's not only extremely alarmed, but also in awe, staring at the great hall that the feast is taking place in. he doesn't draw his gun ( that would just cause more chaos and confusion ) but he rests his hand on it steadily, as if to remind himself he's there, and that if danger does happen to arrive, he can protect himself. with his jaw clenched and his eyes peeled, he eases through the crowds.

at first, he watches people eat the food, and the more he's there, the less alarmed he becomes. everyone is going through the same thing-- or at least, most of them are. maybe someone has been here longer than he is, maybe there's more information than what the little fairies try and whisper in his ear ( they're incredible, he thinks, but not for conversation ).

after a good ten minutes of trying to rationalize the situation, he begins to try and search people out. he has no idea if the rest of beacon hills was dragged along with him, or if he's the only one, but it would be good to know, nonetheless.

he walks up to the person nearest to him, and asks:]

Excuse me, do you think you could tell me a little bit more about this place?

[he can also be found finally sitting down and having a bite to eat ( the surprise on his face when he realizes that the food tastes as good as it looks is unremarkable ) or ducking away from the feast to get a better look at caer glaem. he can be caught wandering down the halls and hurrying up steps!]

[A party, you say? Where there's a party, there will be Rider, right in the middle of it. He's as loud and obnoxious as ever, sloshing drink and hollering cheerfully to the servants. Eating and drinking more than his fill, he's having a great time whether anyone around him is or not.

And it's hard to get around him, too. At nearly 7 feet tall, and almost as broad, he was hard to even see around.

But that's okay, because he's jolly as can be with all the wine - even in the midst of the Unseelie Court]

You there! Yes, you! Come try this drink!

[ if you were to suggest to ezio auditore that he is to old to be stuffed into a sack and kidnapped, he would protest. too dignified? yes. too well trained? hopefully. too fit? of course, even if his back sometimes bothers him. not only that, but surely, his students are too well trained to not keep a look out for maestro when he's working, sì?

he is only forty four, he is not old. (bro, the average life span in 1503 was 40. you're like, grandpa status here, man.)

but nonno, you have to ask, if you're too dignified/well-trained/fit to be stuffed in a sack and kidnapped, what are you doing here?

flirting, of course. and other stuff.

option a; the unseelie feast

you can go through life being paranoid as fuck about weird shit happening like this, or you can pull some "the most interesting man in the world" shit and act like you totally meant for this to happen. and i mean, if you're wearing some sketchass roman armor and carrying a crossbow, a large collection of throwing knives, and at least two other visible bladed weapons, you probably mean for a lot of things to happen.

not that... he means for those things to happen. he's here to chill, hang out, meet some people. see if anyone's food is poisoned. maybe steal some silverware. say hi. go on, make eye contact with the scruffy fellow, he looks friendly and amicable, despite all the weaponry.

option b; ON THE ROAD AGAIN YES IM ON THE ROAD AGAIN

dude stole a horse. grand theft horse: caer scima up in here. maybe it's not stealing if they say you can have them but the bro definitely never asked. WHERE ARE YOU GOING, SKETCHY BRO... nobody knows, but he certainly won't say no to a traveling partner? he's just here to wander and maybe sleep with some farmers' wives. no big deal. no hidden agenda here.

option c; caer glaem, a month later?

yes, he understands he doesn't belong here, technically, but nobody stopped him from wandering in through the front gate... which might be contributed to the fact that he looks like a mostly normal traveler with... standard travel equipment, a sword and a hooded cloak, nothing more than a pair of silver bracers on his wrists as he dismounts in the bailey and hands his mount off to a stableboy with a coin.

so many seelie, so much to do, so much to learn in order to make an educated decision about what the eff this stuff is.

(all he can say for now is that caer glaem has much better decor and smells less weird. which is nice!) ]

Feast

[ Near the far end of the hall, away from the royals, a figure is settled, wearing gray travel clothes; tunic, trousers, cloak, with boots and his sword belt of a darker hue. Tall, even seated, he's positioned to watch the majority of the room. Servants and other guests move behind him at irregular intervals, and his hand doesn't stray too far from his weapon. Aside from his height, and his race (this is an elf, you'll know if even if you've never seen one before), the most striking thing about this new arrival is the fall of silver hair currently being held in place with a circlet. It hangs nearly to his waist and bright enough to appear polished, especially when standing near a light source.

There's a plate of food in front of him and a glass of wine, but Celeborn is more caught up in watching people mill around. Are they all shard bearers too? That part of this whole situation still seems off, for he cannot fit it neatly into what he knows of Eru or the other Powers. Still, his tactical abilities are needed, and what's left of Lothlórien's folk have already left for the Havens or been absorbed into other locales. Being useful again will be nice. ]

( a ) text (batgirl) - both courts

Paging - whoa. This is the craziest way of texting I've ever seen. Uh, paging anyone. Red Robin? Supergirl? I'll even take Robin. I'll regret it, but I'll take him. This is Batgirl.

I know I haven't hit my head, but uh, fairies. Cool. :S

( b ) feast (steph brown)

[She's never tried mead before. It's a tentative sip she takes, before she decides mead is too spicy to be a legit drink. Instead, she tried the mulled wine. This one's better; sort of like honey and cinnamon. It goes nice with all the food she's packed onto her plate.

She keeps a keen eye out for familiar faces or costumes. Particularly, she keeps herself alert. If anyone she knows is here, she wants to find them first.

In the meantime, she needs a strategy here. She needs answers and she needs a plan. She chews absently on something that tastes vaguely like beef and turns to the person next to her with her brows furrowed. ]

This is all free, right?

a: STATION IDENTIFICATION

[Honestly, the Station is the weirdest thing yet in this whole place. He was wary at first, until someone explained-- haltingly slow and using small words (thanks, jackass)-- that there was no magic involved. None? Really? Mildmay had to see this.]

[Those entering the web cafe may find cause to bother a short ginger gentleman with a jagged scar across half his face. His vibrant green eyes are focused entirely on the screen before him, and while his face is empty of any emotion, his body language-- hunched, with arms folded across his chest-- suggests a certain level of stupefaction.]

[Those who know him may find a striking resemblance to Felix Harrowgate in his features.]

[His accent sounds southern, to those familiar with such things; his words are slurred from the scar's interference with his mouth. However, if one listens very closely, they may just hear him mutter:] The fuck's a wifi password?

b: PLEASE INPUT NETCODE PASSWORD

[Text option is taken, because surely no one wants to see Mildmay's ugly mug or hear his awful voice:]

Y'all know any good stories?

✦Banquet✦

There is so much she's still uncertain of... She longs for a familiar face, uneasy being separated from her family and love - especially in a worn-torn land. She understood their need for assistance, though she couldn't fully agree with their choice in her. There were far more valiant warriors and leaders in her land -- those that would be a great asset to such turmoil. She sits, watching the revelry unfold around her as she attempts to keep the sadness at bay. There's a stillness to her posture, an unspoken elegance that reflects on her upbringing.

She has a warm smile for any who approach, soft and inviting, though she does not go out of her way at first to introduce herself - keen blue eyes continuing to scan the gathering for another from home.

✦Wildcard - Visiting Eaglais✦

Arwen slowly moves through the forest of Breagha - intrigued by the Eaglais she's heard whispers of. Her steps are light and silent, taking the time to stop here and there to revel in the majesty of the trees. The only sound one might hear is the rustle of her dress as it moves with her. There's a peace here that calls to her, reminiscent of home. She's not sure how long she lingers beneath the boughs of Eaglais, just listening to the sounds of the forest, feeling the history of the place beneath her feet and fingers.

Jessamine Kaldwin | Dishonored | Seelie Arrival!

Annabeth Chase | Heroes of Olympus | Seelie!

bran stark | asoiaf | seelie.

Fenris | DA2 | So Damn Unseelie It Hurts

annabeth chase { heroes of olympus } seelie!

Gimli, Son of Glóin | LOTR | Seelie