eachdraidh 2701 - 2702 timeskip

[erythristic]

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FAST TRAVEL: Yes (bird shape, puca, teleport ring) COMMUNICATION: Letters mainly, but has a compass from Rin RESIDENCE: Château de Rêveur/Mair ALLIANCE: Unseelie TITLES: Red Knight, Lady of Mair, Death's Heart, Necroveil OBJECTIVES: Most of the timeskip for Grell will be spent pursuing personal projects and goals amidst the duties of her position in Mair and in the Unseelie Court. Undertaking the beginnings of research that will likely span great lengths of time to truly deal with, she will also strive for personal improvement in her magic use and her soul, coming to grips with some aspects of her contradictory nature in the Drabwurld and deciding what to do about that. TENTATIVE GOALS (Subject to change): -Step up to the role of Ganondorf's second. -Deepen alliances and stay connected to the goings-on of the Drabwurld -Begin research into methods of disabling/destroying golems -Beginning of self-evaluation as to who she is -Secretly search for shard training. -Research into past shardbearers. TIMELINE: Subject to change as planning takes place SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May) MARCH: Most of this month will be occupied with Grell's quest to lead a group of vampire refugees to the Ninth Spire. The rest will be spent reuniting with friends and returning to her positions. APRIL: While she will be affected by the harp music, it will be difficult to tell whether her heightened emotions are from magical influence or her own drama. Place your bets, the odds are 50/50. MAY: No real plans other than focusing on non-event dependent actions such as research. Killing a few swans for the money, which she then sends to Azure. SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug) JUNE: More non-event dependent things. Beginning to look for shard training, but staying quiet about it. Attending the tourney as an observer. JULY: Personal goals, again, but making sure to take note of Martin Maskmaker's name. AUGUST: Quiet month of work and personal things. FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov) SEPTEMBER: When the languages go haywire, Grell will communicate primarily by notes, but has the capacity to speak English, French, and German. OCTOBER: Samhain!. Joining in some ill advised adventures, having a good time, and also erecting a proper altar to the Black Shuck this year. Also attending the opening of the Rook in Redgate. NOVEMBER: Like the summer, personal work and research WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb) DECEMBER: White Hart will turn her into a fox for a week, which will make her sulk but then have animal adventures with a few people. Will also give Yule greetings and small gifts to her close friends. JANUARY: Aside from being thrilled at the return of Caer Scima, this month Grell will decide whether to keep her home base in the Château or return to the castle. FEBRUARY: May just tease friends around Valentine's and have a small moment of silence for the anniversary of the battle and the Jabberwock's death. Quietly seethe and flip off Parrais from a distance. How dare the Seelie have an arts festival. SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr) MARCH: While she'll fight the risen skeletons where they come too close, she'll look into burial rituals and traditions of the dead in the Drabwurld, looking for a way to pacify them. Even if that means having to rebury the remains. APRIL: The disappearance of the imps will alarm her, but not so much that she takes great steps to investigate.

code credit to digophelia

Comments

spring 2701.

[erythristic]

March 23rd night; video

[cagedinflesh]

It has been far too long, Miss Sutcliffe. I yearn to see you, to hear your voice.

[Well, that he has only earlier the same day is the reason it's such a burning need so suddenly. The agrevation of having to watch Jekyll with her, and not being able to truly be in her presence himself. He was there, but not enough, and she didn't even know it.]

Are you on the road...? Perhaps you could use an escort? Or perhaps not, and simply the company.

[After all, she has no need for protection.]

[erythristic]

My answer would depend entirely on where in this land you were. For while it is not difficult to take flight and come to you, I would hardly think of forcing you to come to me.

[he couldn't have better timing, she thinks.]

[cagedinflesh]

I could be by your side in an instant. You have seen some evidence of my speed, after all. What's more besides, I've a mount myself. Although of course even without such conveniences, I would come to you anywhere, any time.

I am at the ninth spire.

March 24th, a few hours after sunset

[gehennawind]

[The influx of people (and Kindred) to the Spire is heartening. Paloma, already invested in its growth and success, is less preoccupied with an increasing food supply and more eager to see them find some stability. She can only wonder how many have been uprooted by fighting or other problems severe enough they pack up and leave their old lives behind for the hope of a new one.

She also wonders how many are aware of the blood donations, and how many have nowhere else to go, no other options.

The scent trail these countless people have left is an interesting blend of dead flesh and the living (with all the accompanying waste). She's spent the last hour or so following their tracks in the dirt, avoiding the occasional pile of human excrement, imagining what must be going through their minds over the journey's course. Some have mentioned pieces offhand in their friendlier moments.

Something like horse but smokier-- spiced?-- clogs her nostrils. Paloma sniffs and isn't sure if she likes or dislikes the new scent. She passes the tracks of a circling fox on her way to pursuing the horsiness at a casual stroll, despite her curiosity. No cloak; what's the point? This forest may be blanketed in snow, but her body won't die again from the cold.]

[erythristic]

[where the scent will lead her is close to a group of trees on the outskirts of the city, removed enough from people that there's not much foot traffic, and the tracks of a person leading straight out there. even in the nightfall, it's not hard to make out the two figures -- the woman in her dark clothes and the puca with her head held high, gleaming eyes and witch-fire and curved horns.

despite the aura of fear that getting close to such a creature brings, the woman seems uncaring, reaching into her pocket.]

You've healed up all right then? Heaven knows I'm going to owe you for an age.

[she produces an apple, at which the puca tosses her head before accepting as it's tossed in the air. but she hears Paloma first, and when she snaps her head to look over, so does Grell.]

Earliy-ish April

[scorchedchivalry]

[It started out as another day of trying to take care of paperwork at the First Spire in her office. With the recruitment of new shardbearer officers into the military and everything that entailed, Saber should be working on the paperwork. But she kept hearing music. Though somewhat dulled by her Magic Resistance, it was getting to her. It was making her restless.

She wanted... something other than this.

So, closing her ledger, she grabbed her locket and contacted who she hoped was free right then.]

Grell.

[No 'Lady', no titles, none of that. Saber also looked to be dressed in the most plain, unassuming of men's clothing from what could be seen.]

Would you like to come with me for a drink and be unknown tonight?

[erythristic]

[the strange music had her vague irritations growing, pricking under her skin like an itch. small things were bigger than they ought to be, and she had actually swore under her breath earlier at something that didn't even require such an outburst.

so the chime of the locket had jolted her from trying to focus, and she had resigned herself to it.

Saber, however, was a surprise to see. it's evident on her face, but it fades away into a smile. maybe what she needed was a brief break.]

I could think of nothing more pleasing. Tell me when and where to meet you, and I will be there.

mid-april FLOWER CROWNS FOR YOU, TOO

[digophelia]

[ Alice was traveling through the south lands, and eventually Redgate and Mair to check in on the children and the brothels. It was an odd combination, certainly, but Alice wouldn't be giving up on her endeavors during these times. She was taking notes, gauging what she could do and what she was eventually planning for.

Last month, she was somber and a wreck, but here she was actually cheerful, even happy. Her life was better, for now, and Alice was doing what she wanted to do, and that was to help the children. She had little resources, she knew this; her efforts would be what counted and she knew what she could do from there.

Alice was doing something she hadn't done since her childhood; she was linking together daisies into a chain, something she learned from her sister. When she gets to Grell, Alice is brighter, still working on the chain. ]

Hello, Miss Grell.

[erythristic]

Now there's a face I didn't expect to see. You're looking well, Alice.

[even with the strange music, it didn't keep her from getting things done. taking a break outside the castle was doing wonders for her mood, and it meant she could stretch her legs and walk. honestly, she was concerned her limbs would have gone to sleep, and then there would have gone the rest of her.

it helps, also, that Alice is someone whose face she knows, could pick out of a crowd if she had to. the flower chain is a good reminder of spring, and she's glad the freeze is over.]

early april 2701

[gandere]

[ It hasn't been a month since their last exchange and here Rin was returning to Mair with the results of her findings. Not that she can boast that she discovered much of anything, but Grell deserves an answer. She strolls through the castle as a common enough face, pausing only to ask a guard where she might find her.

Instead of being directed, she's told to wait.

So she waits. Either the guard will return and direct her, else Death's Heart herself will greet her. Either way, she's in no hurry. ]

[erythristic]

[the word comes that Rin Tohsaka is there, and that's significant enough for Grell to rise from her desk and come down herself. don't tell her, something had happened so soon?

it's not long before Grell is there, greeting Rin with a smile.]

Miss Tohsaka! It's good to see that you're doing well.

summer 2701.

[erythristic]

FINALLY TAGS YOU mid-june, after the tournament? lemme know if there're any problems

[individualist]

[The forest of la llorona was actually a pretty pleasant place to dwell, at least as far as the devil is concerned. Practically everything that would ward off any sane person was his aesthetic more familiar to Hell than any other environment; everything there was dangerous one way or another, but it was still home. Still his realm filled with his subjects. If he were the sentimental type he might even feel some amount of homesickness, but instead it's just a brief bout of pleasant recollection. The forest's probably not the place to get lost in thought anyway.

...although he notices shortly after the presence of someone else. The striking red hair was definitely hard to miss, immediately recognizing her as that woman from the battle. He isn't sure what she's doing here, but he approaches regardless, looking the same as the day they met.]

We meet again.

[erythristic]

[she's dressed simply, clothes more for movement than delicacy, and from the way her eyebrow shoots up, it's clear that she wasn't expecting anyone around.

but she knows him, remembers him and his promise.]

Lucifer.

[what did you say? did you attach a title or not? she never made it a habit to consort with hellspawn, but for a moment, she can be civil.

he saved her life, after all.]

fall 2701.

[erythristic]

samhain, closed.

[erythristic]

(tw: self injury)

Death is here, the sound through the land says, and it has begun. The long night again, tinged with both celebration and fear. At one point, she will join the joyous shouts and dancing, cast herself to the wind to end up wherever in the Drabwurld chance decrees she touch down. At one point, but not yet, for there is something else to do first.

Last year she could tell them to not be foolish, speak into ears of both courts and deliver the scolding they needed. This year, with that gone, they will have to take their chances. But she will never be foolish, not with something this important. Not when she made her decision months ago, and had made sure she would be prepared.

The spot she chose had been one of the many locations her and the vampiric contingent had rested at -- a ruin of a place, crumbling stone covered in moss, hardly a roof to keep out the moonlight. Not a place for sleeping, but enough to regain enough energy to keep moving. Something about it had struck her, and so it was to there that she went, letting the land become uncertain and take her there in a bound.

Cleanse the smooth stone she'd dragged from a pile with water, letting it clear away the dust of time. Set candles to illuminate it, bringing their glow and shadows, almost too bright for the initial moment to behold when eyes have adjusted to the dark. Fresh meat, a rabbit she killed with her own hands, to rest there.

And the simple goblet she had brought, that too was set out, with a knife at its side.

A deep breath then, as she kneels in front of what was now the altar, and untied her mask. To hide her face during this felt too profane to even consider. For a long moment there was nothing but silence, the deep quiet that suffuses the woods unbroken and heavy. Until at last she finds it within herself to speak, words soft but said with all conviction.

"Black Dog of Death, Old Shadow. In this long night you walk among us, dealing your judgement, exacting what must be. I do not presume to call upon you -- your time is your own, and your work great. Never would it be otherwise. All I pray is that you be well, that those ignorant do not tax you too heavily, that in this darkness your prey never knows you come."

Grell pauses, and pushes up the sleeves of her dress, taking up the knife in her left hand.

"Before, all I gave you was deference and my words. Now I give you of myself."

And the blade flashes in the candlelight, cutting a long gash in her right arm. Taking up the cup, she holds the wound over, letting the blood run into it. Blood drips at a steady pace, until it is nearly full and she takes it away to set it back onto the altar. It is done, and she can only hope that it was an acceptable thing to do as she reties her mask on.

She'll wrap the wound up later, before she joins the celebrations, and two or three times return to replace the candles. But for now, it is done.

winter 2701/2702.

[erythristic]

Yule 2701

[gordianknots]

A box of stationary whose box bears the mark of the printers at the Brucolac’s spire is delivered, the name and location of Grell’s outpost printed at the top of every page. In addition to the paper and the three bottles of ink included, there is a set of red gloves meant not for wearing outside, but to the Rook Theatre at Redgate. Another set of black gloves are included, as well as a black clutch purse with a wolf tooled into the black leather.

[erythristic]

[in return, there is a box that has three packages neatly wrapped inside. the first is marked for Scian -- two books, stories of adventure and romance and daring. (but checked to ensure they were appropriate for him.) the second is for Rin - a set of blue leather gloves. and the last one is for Waver - a bottle of blackberry spirits and a bundle of three sticks that look like charcoal.

the letter within is addressed to Lord El-Melloi II.]

Waver,

You spoil me, truly. The gifts are lovely, and you have my sincere gratitude for them. What I give in return isn't much, but I hope it is to all of your tastes.

However, the sticks require a slight bit of explanation. We have the compasses, but there may come a time where we cannot speak, where something causes them to fall as silent as our lockets have. Thus, these. Should you be in need of me, destroy one in a manner you see fit. Snap it, crush it, etc. I will know you ask for me, and I will come. They are sturdier than they look, so do not fear over accidentally breaking one.

With luck, I will have space enough to come and see you soon.

Your friend,
Grell

Mid-February, Mair

[zerotohiro]

[Redgate had proven to be a source of knowledge and insight, but the unfortunate part of it all was the fact that it wasn’t the knowledge he really needed. He’d found out plenty of other things in the city, of course, but nothing that would really help his mission with Nico for the Black Shuck.

After doing some searching and prodding though he’d found a lead. He’d found a good lead, actually, one that would take him to Mair and at the doorsteps of the castle in Mair.

It's the middle of February by the time Hiro makes his way out there and he’d openly admit that he's nervous about approaching her. The death god, so to speak. Her name is Grell but beyond that he doesn’t know very much about her. But if he was going to get answers about the task and how to appropriately approach it, she was the one he needed to ask.

When a servant of the castle sees him at the door, he fumbles through an explanation that he’s seeking the Lady of Mair with a request and he’s fairly certain they’re about to kick him off of the grounds when said-servant turns and disappears to fetch Grell.

Hiking his backpack further up on his shoulder, he tries not to bounce on the balls of his feet impatiently as he waits for Grell to appear.]

[erythristic]

[fortunately for him, she was to be found, and in high spirits to grant an audience. she said as much to the servant that came to her, and it's not long before she's come down to meet him. Hiro, she'd been told. not a name she'd heard before, but he was part of their court and therefore possibly worth her time.

clad in dark green, she hurries her way down to see him, a calm smile on her lips and back straight. publicly, she has to seem collected, the somewhat more approachable counterpart to Ganondorf, and so it is with a degree of a lady's bearing that she addresses him.]

You are Hiro, yes? Please, come inside and follow me -- it would hardly do for you to find yourself unable to speak for being turned to ice.

spring 2702.

[erythristic]

letter.

[erythristic]

King of Heroes,

The seasons change, time flows, and I find it hard to believe that yet so much is accomplished. That may be a fault of my own, to view things in a much longer scale than a human could. Have you yet forgotten what it is to see days, weeks, years slip by through the viewpoint of a mortal? How long it all seems, when in reality it is but an inch of time?

But idle talk is not why I sent this. No, it is because that the wind carried the echo of a memory to me, words you said upon the shore. When I felt free to dance among the waves without worry, I would speak and you would listen. To fail to speak would be a regret upon my heart, chains that choke the life from one.

I choose to breathe freely, to make such a choice in the quiet space between the rages of politics and war, where time can be used and not stolen. When perhaps for an inch of time, there is the room to remember.

Before Reynard, there was another time I risked my life upon the waves. Not in this world, but my own - when I was still anonymous and not a soul would have even thought to call me lady. When I and one other of my kind were sent to gather over a thousand souls from a doomed ship in the bitter cold of the North. We arrived, of course, and we silently waited until the time was there to begin our duty. Every soul has to be seen to, has to be protected and sent on. We could have, would have done that. Brought them all back to shore and recorded every name in the lot, without incident.

There was interference, as you may have guessed. The dead were not staying dead - they rose up as a husk of their former selves. Soulless, thoughtless, and yet moving with one driving instinct. "Seek out the living."

Such a thing was, in my world, impossible. It was and is an absolute perversion of the rules that govern not just death but the world. As befitting of abominations, they sought to rend the living apart and take their souls for their own, and fill the void within themselves that way. Another impossibility - one cannot make another's soul their own. The attempt is nothing but useless murder. But devoid of soul is to be devoid of logic, and the halls of the ship were running red with the blood of those falling victim to this madness, too many of them unable to destroy the heads of the creatures and end them again.

Why, we wondered. Why would such a thing be. And at first we believed it to be a human's doing. Reckless and ambitious, he sought to revive the dead and market it as medicine. So vulgarly twisted by his own ambitions. We sought him out to make him end this and fix his wrongs, but it was not to be. For behind him was not a stroke of genius, but one of our own. A reaper who had taken leave of his senses, deserting our ranks, giving thought to the idea of the determined end continuing on and abusing his power to see what happened. The human was naught but his puppet in this scheme.

The madman had tricked the corpses, which he called his "dolls", into believing that their lives were continuing. And with these mere animals that felt no pain, spoke no words, only sought to move and kill, humans saw an opportunity for a living weapon. The entire voyage was to be a lie, an experiment for this cause. The more he elaborated, the more it could not be allowed to pass. He had to be stopped, taken back to our people and sent to whatever punishment they needed to create.

Perhaps we could have captured him, if not for the demon that was also aboard. A beautiful, foul creature who I had fought in the past had somehow gotten himself wrapped up into this, and he sought to capture the madman for his own ends. It was foolish of him to interfere, such an outsider, and I despise him for it. All three sides then had to fight for themselves, and as it turned out, the madman had not lost everything when he betrayed our kind. He still retained enough power to appropriately counter all three of us, and though my own skills far surpass a human, a divine blade will leave something behind, no matter who it is.

I won't bore you and relate the rest. We failed, and were cast into the icy depths of the ocean as the ship sunk. I will not speak of the way we were rightfully shamed for it, it is useless to recount such an obvious thing. We survived, we retrieved every soul, but the records will show we did not do it in a timely enough matter to satisfy our superiors.

So as I have said, I bear the mark of my humiliation on my chest, carved into me by the deserter. It is a reminder that I failed, when I cannot turn my eyes away from it. Had we succeeded, it might be something to be proud of. But we did not, and it is not.

What you will do when you know all this about me, I do not know, and I do not care. It is the truth of what occurred, I swear it upon my soul.

Hopefully, my recollections at least give you some measure of entertainment to read over.

G

letter with loki.

[erythristic]

Gilgamesh, King of Heroes.

Our strife endures, as well it must to take place under the watchful eye of His High Majesty, who at but a stroke would cleave the soul from the body and the head from the shoulders. Every inch of me must be his Necroveil in his sight, bloody and heart of winter's frost. You understand, I know, and every blow that should pass between us I make with no intentions other than to play my role well. I know you would not die from the wounds fate will decree I have to give you. I would no more kill you than I would end a summer's day. Stay alive, my king, stay safe. Especially with the unending nothing creeping ever closer. Tell me you will, so I can hear it as a proclamation of Gilgamesh, and know it is absolute, and my heart will lie in what ease it can when devoid of your presence.

If only such words were the sole purpose of this letter. If I could forsake duty and fill the page with dreams that may yet be. But I come upon my knees to beg your mercy and your help, in a matter that cannot be done alone. The courier that delivers this to you, he is Unseelie, I know. Yet did you not declare to me the Courts mattered little to you? He has been tasked to save something from this impending doom, to safeguard it for the good of all, and he cannot go alone. I beg of you, my king, help him. Assist him in this preservation not for the Court but for the good of all those who might benefit, to save it and bring hope even should the worst begin to pass. Do this, and I bind myself to you until such a time as repayment is achieved. I am not a fool who comes begging without knowing the cost.

Should you accept, he will tell you more. Should you refuse, destroy this and forget I ever asked such a thing of you, and let this letter be only a dream we shared. In dreams, there is our sanctuary. I have not forgotten the colour of your eyes in the moonlight, the scent of the blooms you sacrificed, how time ceased to be, for all of it is ever in my mind until fortune smiles upon us for another moment we might seize for ourselves.

-G