Lainxsolus​:

“I would have ensured you were safe for the rest of the night,” she shrugs. She might have been violating the Senate’s rules by revealing the supernatural, but really, he was currently in a vampire lead party. By this point, not telling him would be clear endangerment, and she might have been willing to send her birds into the Eye, but letting a clueless human be devoured by beasts he didn’t recognize would weight on her conscience. “There might be laws about this, but truly, who would dare to judge me, when we met in a vampire party? It’s a fair assumption to believe all guests are in the know, as you are .”

Rowan takes a second to blink at what is obviously someone not just mortal. If he didn’t know, she’d have just outed the supernatural to him and he figured that was a big ‘hell no’ kind of thing to do. He would know, he got real members of the community knocking down the proverbial door of his inbox. And he always told him that other humans just thought he was a really good storyteller, no harm no foul. “And if I didn’t know, what were you going to do?” He looks up from the wares he’s browsing to look at her, deadpan. “I am armed with knowledge, I contain multitudes.” That’s blunt too, despite the slight nod of his head to affirm it.

TATI GABRIELLE FOR ELITE DAILY

“I want to break the idea of a celebrity. Like, I’m no better than anyone else just because I’m on TV.”

"Every once in a while, I feel your judgement loud and clear," Robin drawls as she rolls her eyes but keeps herself smiling politely at the other guests. It's truly a surprise how easily different species are mingling, and she truly does not know if she feels all that comfortable about it. Regardless, it was Meryasek's wish for all of them to be there, and she will be indulging him as much as she can for the rest of the festivities. After all, one only got married once, if they were lucky. "Considering I have an actual home, I truly don't know how to feel about it."

@thegoodfellow location: Royal Wedding Reception notes: he's her date because she's maidenless and he likes food

Nirvaan had really planned this whole thing? Planned this whole wedding and never mentioned it even once, not exactly best friend behaviour of him. They even had sex that one time. For the moment Robin was Assan's best friend again as he stood at the long reception table and stuffed his pockets endlessly. He wouldn't have sex with her, not after the Bill thing but they were still friends. "Tuna." Assan said with a nod as he inspected a piece of fresh tuna before he popped it into his mouth.

wadecalhoun​:

          “They’re not my damned friends,” the clarification hardly matters but Wade has always garnered this petulant ire that is so easily provoked, nostrils flaring as though Robin had publicly humiliated in someway. She hadn’t, of course, and Wade is trying to swallow down this ire that is clashing with his worry; Robin is so clearly alive but their friendship had been forever marred by what transpired, a pivotal point that he was uncertain they could mend. “You’ve not a clue what you’re talking about,” his voice is struck with this wretched timbre, almost miserable as to relive the betrayal once more. Wade would give anything to take it back, but now they had to simply overcome it; if at all possible. “You can go off into different worlds and realms, I do somethin’ they don’t like, it’s clipped for me.” There’s this pleading tone that interjects the pitiful ire that once rang forth, he’s yearning for understanding that he doesn’t deserve, a silent plea. He swallows this male bravado, goes through each horrific spasm and stage of grief as he tries to submit to this apology that Robin knowingly deserves; his pride is almost insurmountable. “Robin, I’m afraid. I ain’t ever been able to admit that, not even to myself. That what you wanna hear? I’m in over my head?” it falls forth, tumbles from his mouth in a whirlwind and he attempts to level the tremors in his voice that spiral between anger and pure fear, “I made the wrong choice and I’ll be sorry all my poor mortal years.”

...

“Then why did you tell them about your invitation into my home,” Robin hisses, stepping closer to her former friend, hands reaching up to grasp his shirt to pull him closer on her rage. Is the nearest to an act of violence she had offered Wade in a long time, the nearest thing to a threat since their first meeting. “No clue? The Eye killed my brother, his children and his lover, Wade. They just freed countless people they have been experimenting on. I know what they are capable off and I would have helped you if you asked you, I would have helped you like I have always done,” she confesses, voice raw at the truth spilling from her lips, at the reminder of what she had lost at the hands of the Eye. She almost confesses more, almost talks about the time she had spent trying to destroy it from the inside, but she cannot trust the coward before her. And yet —. She cannot help but understand. Who doesn’t fear the Eye? Who doesn’t fear the Leviathan that they cannot understand? “It’s a start,” she admits reluctantly. “It’s a start, but it cannot mean everything. Not when your choice could have killed the people I have sworn to protect. Not when it could have killed the children, Wade.”

She is about to say more, about to surge again in anger, when a pressure unlike any other strikes and brings them both to their knees. Nothing she does stops it, not the shields she throws above them both, nor the magic she calls with her song. It’s instinct that drives her to shield Wade, the love she holds for him even now pushing her to protect him for he is more vulnerable than she has ever been. Her friend, her betrayer. Wade is the last thing she sees before she loses consciousness.

who? @farenduil where? farenduil's place when? after the autumn solstice

After the answering the call of the Wild, the door before her should mean nothing. It does not lead to an end, nor towards any sort of physical agony of the sort, and yet it is a looming creature she almost does not want to confront. Yet, what sort of Chancellor would she be if she were to allow a mere conversation to scare her off with her tail between her legs? A sigh leaves her lips as she raises her hand to knock on Farenduil's door, a second basket of the Autumn's Harvest floating next to her. With his change, she had not felt it safe for him to be welcomed to the yearly festivities, and yet his lack of presence had been painful. The least she could do is to offer more of the Harvest to ensure he knew that he was still welcomed to peruse the fields, even if they could no longer be his home.

"Do open, Farenduil, we have far too much to discuss," Robin calls through the door, even as she plucks one of the apples from the floating basket and takes a bite for herself. "The longer you take, the more likely the pumpkin spice ice cream tubs are too spoil, too."

wintersaurora​:

❅

“Sound argument,” she concedes with boredom, only because it was still oddly strange to ever think to start demanding things of Robin like her superior. Not only because she had no current jurisdiction to do so, Winter to Autumn, but Aurora had slept with a sprinkling of fey throughout her lifetime and the autumn noble had been the only one who knew her prior to Chancellorship. They matured together in a sense, the same generation with the same beliefs. It kept an unspoken understanding in their odd, aloof friendship. No matter the distance and time, things always seemed to eventually circle back into two teenagers of equal standing and nobility. “If I was ever unsteady with my power and influence, perhaps, but you’re too far from my Court to understand. There’s no need for apologies,” she meant, since Robin hadn’t actually done anything to harm. Though Aurora always appreciated any gesture of goodwill. “I simply regret the misunderstanding. You were aggressively caring.” It was well-intentioned teasing spoken with borderline seriousness, but Robin would understand the delivery of the Winter fey’s very often cold humour. A strange bond they’d had. The younger fey shaped and created from birth for leadership, matured too quick, and the slightly older but free-spirited fey. It was Robin’s determined sense of order and justice from the very beginning that allowed them to relate despite differences.

At the consideration of overstepping, Aurora simply nodded appreciatively to the apology - if only because it was for Raja. “You’re telling me,” she replied with a sigh as the conversation led to Fen’harel. But perhaps Aurora did not want to get into the topic of the one she felt had betrayed her trust. Not right now. The Winter Chancellor still had some ways to go before she found the kindness to forgive the part of it that she could forgive. “On the other hand, I did want to congratulate you on your family’s recent ascent to power in the Senate.” There was the ghost of a smile on her face now. “I suppose whatever your relation is to Senator Leal Acosta, niece might be the easiest to name it. Did you know?”

...

“I do suppose there are quite the number of differences between Autumn and Fall, despite the closeness of our seasons,” she ends up agreeing, not desiring to drag the fight further than she had already done. It is rather useless to argue about something they both agree upon, after all, useless and a waste of time brought forth by the slightest of miscommunications. Their friendship, odd as it has been due to Robin’s exploration of the Otherworld and her tendency to wander around in between schemes, was an old one, a strong one. It had survived many thing, even before Aurora had been granted Chancellorship, and thus she did understood the Winter eladrin, even if sometimes she forgot to use that understanding in the middle of a conversation. She blames the six years she had spent majorly in the mortal realm, focused on her thesis and not much else. “As always, you mean. I do have to admit that my tendency for confrontation tends to be rather at odds with my usual personality, does it not?”

The comment about Fen’harel makes her curious, as she is well aware of the two Chancellor’s friendship, but Robin is aware she has pried too much for one evening, and lets the topic pass her by rather than grabbing and examining it as she wants.

“Oh? The new senator is of noble decent? Now that is interesting,” there is a smile dancing on her face as she leans closer to Aurora to emphasize her curiosity. Distant as the bond is, family is family, and after Lauma, she will cherish them all. “Now, now. Which of my cousins went and fell in love with a human this time?”

wadecalhoun​:

-

          The other hunters are hellbent on this blinding and senseless violence, The Eye comes across many who are meant to act under crucial orders but some seem improperly vetted by association. When their first overseer had been claimed to walk this earth as a ghoul, proper clearances had perhaps fallen to the wayside; Wade had never known The Eye to be desperate enough to snag up whoever desired to be apart of their ruthless ranks. Wade flinches as the knife meets flesh and there’s this inherent gasp and curdling scream that follows, an inevitable that carries so much agony and betrayal. It seeps into the core of his heart, blackens it a little further, almost promises him that place in the Inferno that the abomination had wagged in front of him when it had given him it’s blessing to let him suffer earth side.

He sees the proverbial flames lick around the forest, feels the heat on his neck, when really he’s sweating at the reminder of how out of control it had all become in an almost instantaneous bout of corruption. He cares little for the faith of these heedless hunters but his heart is torn in two places; to listen to Robin’s final omen or stick around to hold weight on the wound, to be consumed by the protectors of the forest, torn apart by lycans. It’d surely be considered the better fate, to meet his own quietus, than to force himself to endure what he’d just done; the agonizing weight of it all.

Wade is simply frozen, pathetically so, stumbling backwards, back towards the fog he had been granted passage to enter through. This was meant to be an innocent recon but it had stumbled into something unforgivable. The rusted scent of blood has since pricked the air and his jaw clenches as though to contain his own sickness at the reminder that it was her blood. Even with his distinct act of accomplished betray, betrayal by pathetic indifference, Robin offers him safe passage home away from the fate that the true harbingers of senseless violence would inevitably discover.

An apology is pricked in saddened irises, but it dies on his lips, it always would as he slips away into the fog back away to the sanctity of Rome and the gelid environment of The Eye’s headquarters. Wade will never be forgiven, he understands this as he recalls the insurmountable grief that struck Robin’s countenance, is anguished under the reminder of the iron blade jutting out of her frame. He would never forgive himself anyhow.

...

When he stumbles, seemingly collapses unto herself and leaves it doesn’t surprise her, but it does shatter what is left of the faith she held for her once-favorite hunter. It is such a small thing that does it, the way he hesitates, the way he almost reaches back, the way he almost seems sorry — But despite it all, despite the hesitation, despite the countless times she had saved him, he leaves. He heeds her warning and weights his life against hers, and decides his is worth more, every time. Faith is such a funny sentiment, capable of withstanding the worst of storms and shattering at a single look. Robin had believed in Wade, had believed that he saw her as more than the means to an end, more than a convenient relationship to use and then discard.

She had believed them friends, had given him the gift of her friendship and loyalty when she rarely bestowed it to any human, and he had repaid her with the same sort of fire and brimstone the demon he so fears had offered him. It would be ironic if it wasn’t so fucking infuriating.

“With friends like these, who needs enemies,” she mumbles, coughs out through the pain, blood staining the back of her teeth as she looks at the hunters that had remained and smiles like a predator, for what are they but New Rome’s guardian’s prey? She feels them coming as she levels a look at the hunters before her, knows that their judgment day is closer than they would like and the mean-spirited part of her relishes at this information. There might be a sense of unique understanding and empathy for humanity that Robin holds on her chest, but she is not less of a fey because of it. They are a fickle capricious sort, her people, and she has never been shy about her determination to see the Eye burn. Wade has confirmed her suspicions, and she has granted him one last kindness.

Next time, the one bleeding for his mistakes will be him.

She has no need to retaliate against the hunters that remain, though, not when she only has to look to the side to see a changeling emerging from the fog to deliver their fate to them. Instead, she focuses on her song to slow down the blood flow enough to stand up and hobble deeper into the forest. The blade had been iron and properly cured, not impossible to heal but something she would feel much more confident healing with someone else present. Carefully, she limps away from the clearing where the curtain of her friendship with Wade had fallen, leaving behind nothing but a pool of blood and hoping that she will find someone to join her in a healing song sooner rather than later.

{ Tag Drop }