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Re: Shooting for the Stars When I Couldn't Make a Killing #Theo #Bridgette

Steph
 

Who: Theo
With: Red
Where: The Eastern Forest
When: March 28th, 872 RoK

*Well, how deep do you intend to wander into the Eastern Forest?* the voice--Minnie--asked. *I'd hate for you to die and leave me stranded out here waiting for another sacrificial virgin to stumble upon me.*

Theo sputtered at the assertion, so lost in his mental conversation that even if Red had made a noise when she approached he wouldn't have heard her. She didn't, though. she was just suddenly walking beside him, asking what Christmas was and mispronouncing the word like she was Mr. Tumnus hearing about spare rooms and wardrobes for the first time.

So, at least he didn't have to argue with the voice in his head about his sex life. And he had concrete proof that Red wasn't from Earth. If she was, she'd know Christmas. Apparently there weren't enough people from Earth who'd ended up in Eventyr to establish Christianity--or at least Christian-inspired winter holidays--here.

"It's... a family tradition," Theo replied. "I'm glad you're here instead of in the city. I'm sure I could have found a fairy circle out here, but getting back into King's City there still aren't a whole lot to spare. I guess people are still fleeing from the whole zombie mess faster than fairies can make circles. So... You're a magical witch who understands how strange and mysterious mystical things work here. I could use some help with a strange and mysterious mystical thing."

His eyes caught on the necklace that Red wore, just for a second, and he could hear Minnie hum in the back of his mind at the sight of it.

*People usually get offended at being called witches around here, Theo,* Minnie chided. *I think that might be an artifact of her power. You know her? You trust her?*

"I trust you," Theo added outloud, more for Minnie's benefit than for Red's. He glanced around them at the tall trees. "Is there somewhere we can go to talk a while?"

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Re: Burn your Biographies, Rewrite your History #Sanya #rafael #Kyky #manfred

Steph
 

Who: Sanya
With: Raphael, Kyky, Manny
Where: The grasslands between the Western Plains and the Southern Desert
When: March 28th, 872 RoK

For Sanya, talking about her grandmother was such a taboo. Her mother never wanted to discuss it or the woman's magic. The extent of her father's discussions started and ended with how he'd valiantly saved her mother and imprisoned the witch. Only her Aunt Sadiya would ever discuss magic in any sort of concrete way with Sanya, and those conversations were so sparse. It was family habit, to keep family secrets spoken softly only to those they trusted. Sanya hadn't actively meant to exclude her other traveling companions, but experience had a way of trumping success.

When Raph pointed out her unintentional exclusion, and Kyky pointedly asked questions about the witch, Sanya shifted in her saddle and turned to take a more inclusive angle, intent on correcting her behavior. Because Raph was right. They would be best able to survive together if they shared knowledge together.

"If she were unable to control herself and her curses, she never would have lived long enough to amass the amount of power she has now," Sanya said--speaking a little too much from experience. She knew she had to control her own magic, which was so similar to her grandmother's. "If my grandmother is going to meet Duchess Francesca, I doubt it's just to curse her and be done. She'll hear the woman out. Anyone who gets between this meeting is at the greatest risk."

She inclined her head to Manny then. "Your concern for my parents is a kindness in dark times. The best I can hope is that they escaped before my grandmother's magic could touch them, and they're in hiding. Since they haven't gotten a message to me, though, I expect they're imprisoned, or that if they are cursed. Each has wronged her, by her accounting, so they would be vulnerable to her magic.. If you draw the Dune Witch's attention, the best thing to do is to be respectful and honest--no lies, no half-truths."

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Re: All Tied Up, No More Love #Oseanie #zaire

Manda
 

 

Oseanie: "Of course I could change it. I could get scars... or tattoos all over my face." ... "I could be disfigured. I wouldn't be as beautiful with one eye."


Leaning back against the railing, Zaire couldn't stop the laugh that escaped and he rubbed a thumb and forefinger into his eyes and then ended with a pinch to the bridge of his nose. Eloise would kill him if he brought her daughter back minus an eye . . .


"Oseanie…" he started, but as he lifted his eyes, Zaire found her attention intent of the water behind them.


Oseanie: "Captain, we're being pursued." 


Pushing away from the railing, Zaire turned to follow her gaze and, for a second, he didn't see anything. Then the wind caught the trees and there was a faint flash of white sail amongst the leaves, there and gone again. "Fuck," he breathed, then abruptly turned and began calling down orders to the pirates on the deck. 


Movement erupted below them but Zaire turned back to his daughter. "The river widens ahead. If we can get broadside, we'll pepper their hull an' sink 'em 'fore they catch us, girl." It was a solid plan and one that was sure to work as long as they could keep their speed. "They catch us an' we'll be boarded. That 'appens, ye stay at my side." 


Without waiting for an answer, Zaire was back over the railing of the crow's nest and scrambling down the rigging, passing Calder heading up, as he did. As the Sailing Master's mate, the boy had more experience in the crow's nest than Oseanie did and he was taking her place without having to be told. He'd keep them all updated as they prepared . . .


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Re: Go Make a Legacy, Manifest Destiny #James #Malia

turksgirl
 

James considered and he was sure the forges seemed a more likely target. Marcus didn't have personal knowledge of Malia like he did, and if he sought to destroy knowledge than they would destroy the royal library instead. Especially in the current state of the King's city. But news of a scout making a return broke him from his thoughts. He followed the Duchess as she went to speak to the man.

She knelt by the dying man and spoke softly to him. She had a way with words and how she spoke, like a siren of fable she could entice even the hardest of men to speak on her behalf.

"No, my lady - " the soldier, Steven, interrupted, only venturing to do so because he knew that he had few words left on his lips. "They let me live, to tell you that they know you are coming..." He gave their location, south no more than an hour. Malia clenched her jaw as she listened. 

Steven's last words were weak, but unmistakable, and sent Malia's eyes up toward the towering figure behind her:  "Destroy them."

The Green Duke removed a metal glove and reach down to place his hand flat on the man's chest. As if he could feel the last beats of his heart under clothes, skin and bones."Yes" he said in an eerie tone, "All of them". As soon as Steven the scout expired James rose up and offered Malia his hand, and called his officers to him. 

"We need crossbows and archers for the werewolves, make sure to take silver arrowheads and bolts. Lancers, and swordsmen. Divide the garrison". Before the men left thinking on their foes. James added "Watch out for succubus too". As if anyone wanted to be reminded.

 


Re: Shooting for the Stars When I Couldn't Make a Killing #Theo #Bridgette

Vincent Gonzales <alchemicalnonsense2578@...>
 

Who: Red
With: Theo
Where: The Eastern Forest
When: March 28th, 872 RoK

When it came to the mystical powers associated with Red's necklace, the gift she'd received from the pixies for her aid some years ago, nothing quite beat the ability to quite literally take flight. As a Crimson Hawk, called such for the brilliant red feathers that adorned their chest and the under feathers on their wings, her eyes were much sharper than they normally were, she could hear minute sounds from dozens of feet away, and fly for hours without tiring.

The sound of a human calling out caught her attention and snapped her out of her airborne reverie, eyes scanning the canopy for movement and the source of the sound. With an instinctual adjustment to her wings, Red tucked into a dive, nimbly weaving through the heavy foliage and thick branches of the eldest trees, only to bring her wings back up and gently level out. She landed silently on the ground behind a familiar young man, shifting back into her human form, she watched him for a long moment, wondering why he would travel back into the forest when he knew its dangers so well. 

<<<<<
"A friend," <…> "I think she might be able to help me understand... you."
*If you would talk to me, I could explain myself to you,* <…>  *How long did you stay in New York?*
"It was Christmas," <…> "Red, are you here?"
>>>>>

Red frowned as she walked silently, catching Theo's pace at his side, "What's Chris Mass?" she asked with a raised brow. She'd never heard the term before, but the way Theo used it, it sounded important. Maybe it was why he'd come, looking for her. 

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Re: All Tied Up, No More Love #Oseanie #zaire

Rachel
 

Zaire: "Sometimes," "Some women know how t'use their beauty. They wield it like a weapon t'get what they want." "Others jus' see it as trouble." "I makes it 'ard t'fade into th'background; catches attention, y'know?" 


Oseanie understood weapons - she was good with knives and fair with a bow and arrow because her eyes were precise and her mind sharp at calculating distances and velocities. She could use a sword or an axe, but she was limited in reading up-close personal body language that she needed to excel in that arena. Maybe beauty would be like that; maybe she would be good at using it, or maybe she wouldn't. Maybe practice would help, or maybe it wouldn't? 


It was a difficult metaphor because usually weapons were things you chose to wield and not just part of your face.  Maybe, then, beauty was more like teeth...? 


Figurative thinking could be exhausting, and it was a painfully long moment before the tension in her expression relaxed enough to suggest she had let the conflict go. 


Zaire: "Ye can't change how beautiful yer mama and I made ya, girl," "Ye just need t'decide how you'll use it." "And 'ow much shite you'll put up with."


As was her way, Oseanie missed the warm little joke and responded abruptly. "Of course I could change it. I could get scars... or tattoos all over my face." Beautiful ladies in silk gowns didn't have tattoos. "I could be disfigured. I wouldn't be as beautiful with one eye." Which wasn't uncommon among pirates at all… 


...but it would also hinder her ability to note the usual turmoil of the water behind them at a distance. She straightened a bit, planted her hands on the railing of the crow's nest, and peered carefully. Oseanie was quiet for a long stretch, and then… there it was. 


It was just a blurring of the white space between trees, but it stretched exactly as high as a ship would have. A ship their size, or bigger. 


"Captain, we're being pursued." 


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Re: Go Make a Legacy, Manifest Destiny #James #Malia

Rachel
 

James: "Marcus is cunning enough to play either, but in this case I believe it will be shorter. His band tends to travel light to remain hidden in the shadows" "Not an estate... something more effective at weakening our realms" "Perhaps the forges that the borders, something of that nature to slow manufacturing our defenses?" 


The was a troubling thought, and Malia's lips pursed tersely in reaction. The forges made sense - disrupting both the North and the East's access to quality armor and weapons would seriously weaken them. 


James: "Perhaps they would seek to destroy the knowledge to defeat them"


But James' next suggestion that they might go after Malia's home and endanger her library had her stomach twisting unpleasantly and her eyes narrowed as her gaze turned upwards with his. Dozens of those books were of her own hand and from a world away - precious beyond measure. Logic suggested that if the Marauders were to attack her palace, they would more likely than not focus on taking precious supplies that would be hard to replace in the winter, hoping to starve or freeze her soldiers, or perhaps Marcus would take her step-daughter for ransom. 


A much less terrifying thought that an assault on her library. 


Before Malia could speak, though, a captain was approaching them hastily enough that both knew there was news. Said news came in the form - they were told - of a scout who had returned. He was barely clinging to life, though, and so Malia and James hurried to speak with him. 


"Good Steven," Malia greeted, kneeling at the dying man's side after eliciting his name quietly from a soldier who watched on at a distance so apprehensively that Malia guessed they were friends. She wanted, of course, to know what he knew; however, she made certain those inquiries were not the ones that onlookers heard from her lips.


 "Your kingdom is grateful for your service," Malia said, as she took his hand tenderly, wary of the cuts, bruises, and blood caking his skin. "You will be taken care of now. Rest, so you may…" 


"No, my lady - " the soldier, Steven, interrupted, only venturing to do so because he knew that he had few words left on his lips. "They let me live, to tell you that they know you are coming..." He gave their location, south no more than an hour. Malia clenched her jaw as she listened. 


Steven's last words were weak, but unmistakable, and sent Malia's eyes up toward the towering figure behind her: 


"Destroy them."


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Re: We Wanted Everything, Wanted Everything #sarnai #Liam #Marcus #Killick

Silvy <afranklin09c@...>
 

Who: Killick.
With: Liam, Sarnai, Marcus.

Where: Marauders Camp, Northern Duchy
When: March 28th, 872 RoK - Morning


Running into Marcus and his men had been disconcerting, and the days that followed weren't exactly less so. Sure, Liam was here - a surprise as much as it was a comfort - and every day that passed without their heads on pikes or worse was something of a reassurance... But he also felt, very much, as though they were merely waiting for the other boot to drop.


So he hadn't strayed very far from Sarnai and the baby, when he could avoid it, even if he really wanted to catch up with his friend. How had Liam fallen in with Marauders? What had driven him away from the school? Did he know what happened?


And, perhaps just as much, he wanted to talk to their host... To get a sense of the man and what they had agreed to fight for. Even if he'd told Sarnai that they should use the coming chaos as cover for their escape. She hadn't entirely agreed - what if they had a better chance with greater numbers? What if it was only a matter of time before either was thrown under the wagon wheel? 


But with Sarnai in Liam's company, he could breathe a little easier...and throw out the idea of trying to find out what all he had missed. He doubted his old friend would feel so comfortable speaking of such around his new traveling companion, and so turned his efforts instead toward looking for the man who, currently, had more to say about their fates than he was entirely comfortable with. Where was Marcus, anyway...?


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Re: All Tied Up, No More Love #Oseanie #zaire

Manda
 

Who: Zaire

With: Oseanie, Siren's Song Crew 

Where: The Eastern Forest, rivers 

When: March 28th, 872 RoK

Wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/01/63/b0/0163b09ef8407b7533b52fc365b91639.jpg 


Oseanie: "Is it good?" … "To be 'beautiful'?"


Zaire's brow furrowed at the first question, but the second had understanding relaxing those lines away. He was silent for a moment, his eyes on the crew beneath them, some sitting and laughing while others moved busily from one task to the next, but enlightenment didn't come easily. How was he to answer such a question?


"Sometimes," he finally settled on. "Some women know how t'use their beauty. They wield it like a weapon t'get what they want." Like Francesca, he couldn't help but think. Though stand her next to Eloise, with her smooth brown skin and tight curls, or Brandy with her milky complexion and stunning figure, and no one would even look twice at the Queen of the West . . . 


"Others jus' see it as trouble." Chione would have prefered to be ugly, Zaire tended to assume, though the Master Gunner was far from it. "I makes it 'ard t'fade into th'background; catches attention, y'know?" 


Zaire wasn't sure he was really the person for her to be talking to about this. He wasn't unattractive, he knew, but his looks were an acquired taste for some; though because of his colorings, he did know a bit about catching attention. Still, he couldn't give a woman's perspective on what it was like to be beautiful. Eloise could though. Unfortunately, his wife was safe back on the Island - right where she should be while her belly slowly rounded with new life. 


"Ye can't change how beautiful yer mama and I made ya, girl," he finished with a hint of joking apology in his tone. "Ye just need t'decide how you'll use it." He paused, his eyes going to Calder again, "And 'ow much shite you'll put up with."


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Re: All Tied Up, No More Love #Oseanie #zaire

Rachel
 

Zaire: "Up ye go," 


This, more than anything, brought a satisfied smile to Oseanie's face. She understood her duties and she wanted to fulfill them, and so there was a certain pleasure in the climb upward to the crow's nest… 


Perhaps that pleasure was exacerbated by the fact that Oseanie knew that even if her fagther - the Captain - followed her, he didn't see a fraction of what she did. The sway of the treetops, the disruption of the river's surface, the notable lack of wildlife at the water's edge… she might not yet understand what it meant, but she noted it all as important information even as she settled in, her hip against the railing, as she stood tall to watch out. The wind tugged weakly at her thick braids, weighed down with tiny golden rings that shone in the sunshine.


Zaire: "Yer a beautiful girl, Oseanie; some'uv the crew've noticed," "Calder's one'uv 'em. He ain't never spent so much time with ya, is all." 


Beautiful. Well, that was a problematic word, wasn't it? Oseanie's lips pursed in displeasure when her father spoke it. Or perhaps, the word was just complicated. Loaded. Like a canon full of illegal blasting powder. Her father's words prompted her to think of Calder - he was about her age, and therefore a crewmate dealing with many of the same adjustments as she was, and therefore she liked him. But that was a very complicated line of thinking, and Oseanie avoided it for a more fundamental one. 


"Is it good?" Oseanie asked, without diverting her eyes from the horizon. Her father's expressions wouldn't have told her much, anyway. 


With such a simplistic word at the helm, Oseanie couldn't be sure. Beautiful was probably why Lambert had bothered to attack an opponent who hadn't threatened any more than the purse he had willingly bartered. "To be 'beautiful'?"

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Re: All Tied Up, No More Love #Oseanie #zaire

Manda
 

Who: Zaire

With: Oseanie, Siren's Song Crew 

Where: The Eastern Forest, rivers 

When: March 28th, 872 RoK

Wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/01/63/b0/0163b09ef8407b7533b52fc365b91639.jpg 


Oseanie: "I like that it is called the East, and the Green realm," ... "No poets trying to call it something it is not." 


Zaire nodded, her answer not wholly unexpected. Oseanie wasn't the type to read between the lines, to infer meaning when it wasn't clearly stated, but that didn't mean she didn't have good insight or wasn't perceptive in her own way. "Aye," he agreed. "They ain't burstin' with creativity, these names. Simple. Straightforward. Honest." He followed her line of vision to the small group he'd just left and found Calder quickly averting his gaze. The boy had it bad. 


Oseanie: "What is it?" 


"Up ye go," Zaire urged instead of answering, waving her up toward the crow's nest even as he began climbing the rigging to join her. Oseanie was his barrelman and he needed her to perform her tasks but she could do so while they talked. Plus, it was away from curious ears and there wasn't a mirror to be seen . . .


Reaching the top, Zaire swung himself easily over the railing. There wasn't much to see, not with the trees towering above them on either side, but having eyes this high up was never a waste of time. "Yer a beautiful girl, Oseanie; some'uv the crew've noticed," he explained, leaning back against the railing with arms crossed over his chest. "Calder's one'uv 'em. He ain't never spent so much time with ya, is all." 


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Re: Burn your Biographies, Rewrite your History #Sanya #rafael #Kyky #manfred

turksgirl
 

Manny's hooves kicked up some dirt, and he tried to be mindful of where he stepped since Kyky didn't have the benefit of a saddle to keep her on his back. He was glad they were over the chronic apology phase of their journey. He was starting to feel rather self conscious because of the discomfort he seemed to be causing his human friend. The young centaur had grown accustomed to her hand on his leather jerkin to help keep her balance.

"We can keep up with them," Kyky said to Manny, the double meaning of her words apparent, and her eyes met Rafael's briefly as he glanced back. 

Manfred cocked his head and wasn't sure the other two humans wanted their company so close, or their ears. But he let his legs move smoothly into a faster walk and took some kind of solace in the tightening of his friend's hand on the side of his vest.

"I've heard this witch curses hypocrites," Kyky spoke up, her mind two steps ahead because she honestly didn't worry about being caught in inauthenticity. She could well have used her know-how to run in noble circles, live in luxury, but she focused on her goals. Making friends, making change. "How do you think the Queen of the West is going to fare with her?"

"Badly, I should think. But Rossi knows how to tell people what they want to hear...at least until actions say otherwise" he replied, swishing his tail in annoyance just thinking about how gullible the West had been accepting the Vampires. He inclined his head at the pair ahead of them. "They're talking about her..." Manny said in a low tone. "...The witch of the South".

His senses were on high alert, just thinking about the witch put him on edge."I hope the Duke and Duchess are alright" he mumbled, but with the witch loose it didn't look good.

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Wearing: (Not much, lol) https://stardustlarp.co.uk/products/studded-italian-leather-jerkin-chose-colour-black-brown-green-red-blue-ren-fair-medieval-vest





Re: Stay Up on That Rise, and Never Come Down #Jaya #Brandy #Tristan

Rachel
 

"I wouldn't count on that," Brandy responded, far more skeptically. From what she could tell, many of these vampire thralls were like heroine addicts - hopelessly addicted to the fix their vampires could provide. That made them irrational… but ultimately predictable. And so her gut instinct clearly contrasted with Jaya'a - could the humans be counted on? Or were they definitely going to an obstacle? 


Jaya probably knew better, Brandy reasoned. She didn't know all that much about vampires thralls, except that Zaire and his crew of otherwise rational men had all but sold their souls to the Vampire Queen of the West. 


It wasn't that easy. But it was easy to pretend it was. 


"These vamps are probably just hitting REM," Brandy said. "They'll be out. All the same, we're probably going to have to go underground to find their lair…" And she punctuated this thought with a roll of her eyes. 


And so the key question remained: "So…." it was an uncomfortable question. "Do we kill the thralls?"


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Re: Burn your Biographies, Rewrite your History #Sanya #rafael #Kyky #manfred

Rachel
 

Sanya and Raf: *whispering*


Kyky was probably never going to get over the weirdness that was using your literal friend as a form of transportation. Even if it made sense, it had taken days and days of Kyky apologizing for her weight or the way she moved or the way she grabbed Manny's shoulder at a turn… it just wasn't a normal thing. You might personify your car (she had named her little Ford Focus in Parkland "Chad") and you might consider a horse a sentient being, but this was totally different.


Given how limited their funds were, though, riding made the most sense, and Kyky really wasn't sure how she felt about it.


Her eyes drifted to the pair ahead of them - the Duke of the South's daughter and the son of the Royal General (disgraced now though he was). They were whispering - strategizing, maybe. Sharing secrets, nuances of the politics. That was frustrating, on some level. Kyky was a commoner here in Eventyr, but she actually knew a lot about governments and power structures. Someday, she would be a bigtime journalist or diplomat or congresswoman… 


Well, maybe. She would have to spend a lot more time at home to make any of those goals a reality. 


"We can keep up with them," Kyky said to Manny, the double meaning of her words apparent, and her eyes met Rafael's briefly as he glanced back. 


"I've heard this witch curses hypocrites," Kyky spoke up, her mind two steps ahead because she honestly didn't worry about being caught in inauthenticity. She could well have used her know-how to run in noble circles, live in luxury, but she focused on her goals. Making friends, making change. "How do you think the Queen of the West is going to fare with her?"

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Wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f0/f5/f3/f0f5f3edc8509cd2b6dafa977669852e.jpg?b=t 


Re: All Tied Up, No More Love #Oseanie #zaire

Rachel
 

Zaire: "So whataya think'uv the East, girl?"


"Good morning, Captain," Oseanie said so suddenly, automatically enough that the words held little conversational cadence, pulled from her absorption by her father's voice. She had been mesmerized, for how long she didn't know, by her impulse to count the different types of trees. Some had pines, others had leaves - some with leaves had wide ones that she guessed might be the size of her hand, while others had narrow ones, shaped like lips. Her brain would store this information for later, when she would speculate on how each type of wood might be made into a ship… 


She had expected to be redirected to her duties, which was the obvious thing to suppose given that she was supposed to be looking out, but the question wasn't about that. Her eyes flitted to the captain's speckled face, just quickly enough to be sure there was no scowl there to indicate anger, and then she took herself a moment to formulate a response.


"I like that it is called the East, and the Green realm," Oseanie answered, simply, as if the question were that simple.  "No poets trying to call it something it is not." 


Now that she was paying attention, Oseanie noticed voices from the crew at a distance and she glanced in their direction briefly... 


Calder was looking at her, though, and he wasn't the only one, even though the older pirates were somewhat better at concealing it. Oseanie was struck with the sudden apprehension that she was the butt of a joke that she didn't understand. As much as Killick had tried, jokes were always a struggle.


"What is it?" Oseanie muttered, hoping her father would help bridge the gap in the moment. Her eyes returned to the comfortable treeline even though her mouth pulled into a somewhat annoyed scowl. She knew she would have to find her own stride and that the captain couldn't be her interpreter like her brother had been, but the whole experience of moving onto the ship, visiting a new land, facing new enemies… 


It was a lot, and the only thing stronger than her urge to withdraw was her determination to make sure she pulled her weight. 


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Wearing: https://mfiles.alphacoders.com/696/696783.jpg 

 


Re: Burn your Biographies, Rewrite your History #Sanya #rafael #Kyky #manfred

Manda
 

Who: Rafael

With: Sanya, Kyky, Manny

Where: The grasslands between the Western Plains and the Southern Desert

When: March 28th, 872 RoK

Wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/15/cd/e8/15cde88263e270faf250bd67b09230e9.jpg 


Sanya: "The Witch can sniff out hypocrisy, insolence, crassness," ... "When she curses someone, they deserve it--but she is old and perceptive. She can find a deserving reason to curse anyone, no matter how slight their offense. If you bow with respect you do not feel, she could curse you to crawl on your belly as a snake until you feel the humility and respect you ought to feel in her presence. If you refuse to bow, she could curse you to be an unbowing, unyielding tree until you take a thousand lightning strikes. Every curse she utters, she uses to her advantage. But if you can somehow avoid slighting her, if you can be honest enough before her, she can't touch you with her magic."


As Sanya spoke, Rafael couldn't help but wonder if it had been a stroke of good fortune that he and Sanya's courtship had fizzled out before it had ever begun. Sure, she was beautiful enough, and he enjoyed talking to her, but the more he heard about her grandmother, the more he thought that marrying into the Nimr family would likely be a bit like navigating a field of hornet nests. Eventually, he'd step on one and end up living out the rest of his days as a frog or a fence post. 


"She sounds . . . lovely," he commented, dryly, making a mental note to be honest once they came face to face with the Southern witch. If he were being honest though, the anxious pit in Rafael's belly had more to do with the Western witch than it did the Southern one.


He turned in the saddle to cast a glance at Kyky and her centaur friend. "Are you planning to share that bit of knowledge with our traveling companions?" he asked, his voice just as low as Sanya's. "I guess I could be wrong but I'm assuming that survival is as high on their list of priorities as it is our own."


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Re: Go Make a Legacy, Manifest Destiny #James #Malia

turksgirl
 

Malia: (...) "These dogs have gone too far," (...) "They stole three barrels, by reports," (...) "You know these beasts and their moves better than I," Malia said, pausing to turn toward her fellow noble. "Will they play the short game, or the long? Is it likely that they already have a target in mind? Perhaps one nearby?" Several large estates, factories, farms, and more, in both their duchies fit that category, situated along the border.

James had reached up with both arms to assist the Duchess from the saddle. Her smile warmed something inside him, not a heart, but something old and dangerous like a hibernating serpent. He merely grunted about the information about the barrels of powder. It had been a daring risk and three was more than enough, it was the magic number as some like to say.

"Marcus is cunning enough to play either, but in this case I believe it will be shorter. His band tends to travel light to remain hidden in the shadows" the Duke replied tersely. His brow was furrowed deeply in thought, "Not an estate... something more effective at weakening our realms". James let his fingers stroke the green armor he wore idly.

"Perhaps the forges that the borders, something of that nature to slow manufacturing our defenses?" he said rubbing his chin. The Northeast borders made the finest armor and swords with the exception of a regions' most skilled artisans. Bombing farmland could effectively starve a population, but it also turned farmers and hunters against the Marauders, who sometimes depended on the help of sympathizers.

James gave a wry smile, if Marcus knew the legend of the witch of the East and his heart he would say the enchanted forest as a possible target. But his wolves and men often sought refuge in the danger of the living green canopy. Castile turned his face upward curiously and narrowed his eyes at the Northern castle's famous high tower. Malia's private sanctuary... and all it's books.

"Perhaps they would seek to destroy the knowledge to defeat them".

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Re: Go Make a Legacy, Manifest Destiny #James #Malia

Rachel
 

James: "Gather all the smiths and silver you can."


Malia waited to dismount until James could help - her thick cloak and long skirts to ward against the cold made it a chore enough, but mostly she loved these little moments where James was both so strong and larger-than-life, but seemed to find a tenderness for her. She smiled her thanks, "my lord," as her leather boots crunched into familiar snow. 


"These dogs have gone too far," Malia said, obviously referencing the Marauders with her derisive terminology. She began strolling, knowing that it would make their conversation harder for any one person to follow unless they were conspicuous about their eavesdropping. Her dress trailed behind her, gray-silver wool lined in fur that could well have been wolf. "They stole three barrels, by reports," which was a significant amount, but not the whole supply by any means. What had limited them? Manpower - too few men to carry the load? An unfamiliarity with the substance, enough that the thieves needed to be wary with the amount they decided to move…? 


"You know these beasts and their moves better than I," Malia said, pausing to turn toward her fellow noble. "Will they play the short game, or the long? Is it likely that they already have a target in mind? Perhaps one nearby?" Several large estates, factories, farms, and more, in both their duchies fit that category, situated along the border.

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Re: All Tied Up, No More Love #Oseanie #zaire

Manda
 

Who: Zaire

With: Oseanie, Siren's Song Crew 

Where: The Eastern Forest, rivers 

When: March 28th, 872 RoK

Wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/01/63/b0/0163b09ef8407b7533b52fc365b91639.jpg 


"Careful where ya put them pretty eyes, there, Calder," Jacob Alby teased, his hands busy tying off the rigging. "Dun wanna give the cap'n an excuse t'pluck 'em outta yer 'ead." 


"Shut'cher mouth, Jacob," Chione chastised around a slice of orange. Her lips twisted in amusement, "Little Lord's just got an 'armless crush, is all."


Cheeks reddening, Calder pulled his eyes from Oseanie and dropped them back to the sail he was mending, shoving the needle through the canvas hard enough that he poked his finger and drew blood. He hissed and put the digit between his lips, throwing a dark look at both Alby and Chione. "You both needa shut up," he muttered.


Chione chuckled, but the amusement faded from Alby's face as he lowered her voice and said, "Ye ain't see what 'e did t'Jasper Lambert."


"That was diff'rent," Chione scoffed, waving away her partner's warning as Calder's face went from pink to white as sun-bleached linen. "Cap'n knows 'is girl is lovely an' 'e knows y'all'll look."


"Aye," Zaire added, coming up behind his quartermaster's young son, mirth sparkling in his eyes as Calder jumped at the sound of his voice. "Just don't lemme catch ye touchin' without 'er permission."


Calder's blue eyes widened. "I wouldn't, Captain!" he insisted, shaking his head.


Zaire clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, leaning over close to continue his ribbing, "That's good, lad. I don't much enjoy creatin' eunuchs." And with that, Zaire left the speechless Calder to the mercy of Mr. Alby and Chione as they picked up where their Captain left off with some not-so gentle teasing. 


Zaire knew that Oseanie would be a distraction for a while yet. He had few women on his crew but the ones he did had all been a distraction until the men became accustomed to their presence and, in some ways, completely forget they were women at all. Oseanie was likely to have an easier time of it, being his own daughter, and all, but also because many of the crew had watched her grow up and considered her family. Calder was near her age though and despite the leg pulling, Zaire knew the boy wouldn't lay a hand on her; Arne had raised his son too well for that.


"So whataya think'uv the East, girl?" Zaire asked, catching his daughter at the base of the crow's nest. It was an easy enough way to strike up the conversation, but what he really wanted to know was what she thought of being on the account, of their cargo, her first successful taking of a prize . . .


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Re: We Wanted Everything, Wanted Everything #sarnai #Liam #Marcus #Killick

Manda
 

Who: Sarnai

With: Liam, Killick, Marcus

Where: Marauders Camp, Northern Duchy

When: March 28th, 872 RoK -- Morning

Wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/35/ac/ec/35acececfeddc1b8ccf529b5bceabd2a.jpg 


The prospect of battle had Sarnai's blood singing. Sure, she wouldn't be on the front lines, partially because she didn't have her own battle ready mount, but also because of Erden. He'd stay with her, wrapped securely against her front, and she'd keep her distance from the fighting and pick off their enemies with bow and arrow. Killing Northern soldiers would be a new experience but certainly one that didn't bother her; they were Malia's men, after all. No, she'd delight in their deaths if only because it would deal a blow to the Duchess of the North. 


With that lovely thought in mind, Sarnai made her way through the camp, her quiver on her back and her bow slung over one shoulder. She absently patted her son's swaddled rump as she walked, giving him a smile when his little hand closed around the end of her braid and he made a soft coo of wonder as he stared up at her. Every day he seemed to change, growing ever more interested in the world around him and a bit less interested in simply sleeping and eating. It was surprisingly exciting for the young mother, who had had such little desire to hold the role to begin with. She was embracing it now though, promising her son - both silently and aloud when they were alone - that she would teach him all he needed to know. He would ride and hunt and fight and slay anyone who would come for him, because come for him they would. Someday. Eventually. Sarnai couldn't hide him away forever.


"Good morning, Liam," Sarnai greeted as she came upon the huge werewolf. She settled down across from him at the fire pit and helped herself to a leftover boiled egg, glancing curiously at the pages in his lap as she peeled the shell away. She didn't know Liam very well yet, but Killick knew and trusted him and Sarnai knew and trusted Killick. Well, sort of knew him. She did trust him though, which made it easy for her to extend that trust to Liam, as well. Plus, he had the loveliest blue eyes that she very much enjoyed looking at. 


Glancing around to see if her traveling companion was nearby, Sarnai leaned a little closer, "You were in school with Killick, yes? Did you know him well?" 


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