erythristic | eachdraidh 2701

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Trusting yourself is...

[Good? What an inadequate word when Paloma wishes she had a tenth of the confidence in herself. Something like admiration and envy swirls inside her chest as she searches Grell's eyes.] Let's just say anyone calling you arrogant for that is probably jealous.

['I know I am.' She doesn't say it, that would bare a little much.] Besides, armies come in all shapes and sizes. Clearly that one wasn't big enough to handle you!

And I had friends at my back. I can't take the entire credit from them -- the Baron is one of them. He was there during the whole incident Ennis was injured in.

[she pauses.]

Ennis is our standoffish friend from earlier.

[Takes her a moment to associate the Baron with the Brucolac, but when she does, Paloma nods up and down with CONSIDERABLE enthusiasm. What a great leader the Brucolac is, in her opinion!]

If I had an aura that told people to be afraid, I might be standoffish, too. I wonder how many have just up and run from Ennis?

Not enough, in her opinion.

[she laughs then, glad that the mood has lifted.]

When we first met, she called me a litany of names that would paint the air blue. Still does, on occasion, but I think that she appreciates the gestures I make to her -- though I did not acquire her assistance in the usual way, I give her nothing but respect. I owe her more than I can repay, and so if she chooses to insult me or bite me or steal spoons or strike terror into my heart, so it shall be.

[and here she pauses.]

Ah, but I talk on so much. I hope I do not bore you, Paloma, by going on so long. Here this is our first meeting, and I might yet make you resolved to never speak to me again.

[She's begun to laugh starting immediately with the picture of a nightmarish horned horse of fear and flames stealing spoons. Paloma is still grinning when Grell makes her apology-- unnecessary as it is.]

I'll forgive you if you tell me about the spoons. Were they good spoons?

Some were, actually! A poor servant nearly got blamed for the disappearance before I caught her taking away another. What she does with them, I don't know, but if it is the price of her good mood, I shall endure any odd disappearances in my vicinity.

Obviously she has to pick them up with her mouth, since horses-- umm, since puca don't have fingers. Don't they?

[What if they are magical creatures capable of sprouting appendages at will? Paloma shudders, dread knotting in her belly.

And staying. The knot clamps her insides and spreads, apprehension, fear, anxiety lancing up to her heart and throat. This aura is something familiar and new at once. Not Ennis.]

They don't-

[and she pauses, feeling that. Ennis wouldn't have come back, so that sensation can only belong to one thing in particular. shooting a glance at Paloma:]

Try to look calm. They can scent fear.

[Obedience, in this scenario, is in her best interest. Her jaw tightens, but Paloma buries the panic below the surface and looks at Grell as if to anchor herself to something beautiful before everything goes to Hell in a handbasket. It is not a plea for help. It braces.

The dark "horse" alights on the snow one tree over, not yet underneath the two. This stallion prances, head tossing in good humor. He takes his sweet time meandering until he's found the branch, right under Paloma's dangling toes and her other shoe-clad foot.

God-awfully intelligent eyes rest on them below long, wickedly curved horns. His nose lifts, lips at her heel. Paloma remembers Grell's advice and does not move.] Ladies. Enjoying the night?

Quite well, and you, sir?

[she bows her head in a gesture of respect -- an acknowledgement she's always found to be useful. her fear, she wrenches back, forces it to the ground and keeps it there through an act of willpower. this one seems to want to toy with them, in contrast to Ennis' cold ill-humour. but where did he come from?]

Yes, we are. [Shorter. Clipped and empty of the warmth she'd given Grell so freely; Paloma follows her example and dips her head. Monkey see, monkey do.

The puca really is a fine specimen, large, healthy, muscular. His curved horns are less spirals than they are flat-sided spears arching backward, making his black skull reminiscent to a sleek hammer. He leaves Paloma's heel alone (to her immeasurable relief) and flicks his tail.]

To sup here is to find plenty. War-torn lives and broken homes, all in the dreams inside these woods. Whyever should I complain? [With a physical jerk, Paloma realizes she's hearing the voice of LaCroix. Cold, clear-cut, but velvet and caressing where LaCroix had never been. Calm.]

Then don't allow us to be in your way whilst you take your fill. For we are both awake, and wrapped in subjects far too sweet and light to be anything to your taste.

[the only real sign of what she feels is the tenseness in her neck, hoping she can last out and remain in civil conversation. glancing to Paloma, there is a fleeting second -- are you alright -- before she gives her attention back to the puca.]

[Their puca friend hisses a laugh. And then his voice is warmer, more nuanced with humor. She realizes it was an affectation.] Sweetness and light! You can't taste her.

Why did you talk like that? [I'm not hallucinating! I'm not hallucinating! Anxiety swamps her. Paloma shifts on the branch, leaning over the side to stare him down with paranoia whitening the knuckles around her perch.] Was that on purpose?

[He turns in a circle underneath the tree, stamping boisterously.] A taste of what shaped you. [Then, quick and casual as biting a flea, he cranes his neck and sinks hard teeth into the soft middle of her foot. Paloma yelps, dragging her bleeding foot away as he laughs again and... freezes.]

[talk like what she thinks, only hearing an overly confident stallion that she would wonder why he held back when Ennis was there. they didn't hate being in groups, they weren't entirely solitary. so what was this one's aim?

questions could wait, however, to see that reaction. what, did dead blood not taste right? he could eat snow to wash out his mouth.]

...Is anything broken?

eachdraidh 2701 - 2702 timeskip

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