Floratitus​:

TATI GABRIELLE ph. Ben Cope Spaghetti Magazine, February 2021

who? @vincenzodives​

where? a lotto gelato

notes: the feeling when you see a previous lover on the street but apparently he lost his magic???

Her first clue that something has changed drastically is when she doesn’t sense him. As a witch, and one she is more than acquainted with, Vinny’s presence should have pinged on her metaphorical radar.  It doesn’t. Instead, she realizes his presence in Rome by coincidence. After her recent appointment to Chancellorship, she had taken to slipping away to Rome whenever her work was done. The responsibilities are new, and while not fully overwhelming, they are a lot for someone who had never believed she would inherit them. The Autumn nobles might have elected her, but everyone had expected Fen’harel to last for another few millennia at the least. The realization of their betrayal had been shocking beyond compare, and had shaken the very foundations of what she had known of her court. As such, Robin takes her free time to wander around Rome and ponder over the changes, over the reality and the truth, trying to see all angles, to understand them.

It’s a tad different this time, as she had gone out of her way to visit the gelato shop in order to get something sweet while she thinks. Robin’s choice had been a whim, set forth by her clairvoyance and taken in the last second. To find one of her previous lovers, and a good friend, on the shop is a pleasant surprise. To realize that he had seemingly lost his magic, is not. She hadn’t even realized his presence within the shop until she had turned around to leave, catching a glimpse of him sitting on the corner. The breath had been stolen from her lungs as the realization hit, and she had nearly spilled her gelato on the hurry to get to his table.

“I would say this is a pleasant surprise, sunshine,” she tells him, sending him a warm smile before her expression turns worried once more. “But I cannot sense your magic, which concerns me. Are you alright? Can I help?”

assanx​:

-

Food was always the way to his heart, so Robin was right to suggest it to him. It was incentive enough for Assan to continue attending, that and he liked fantasy and roleplay. It was absolutely not reason for him to organize any of the gatherings though, Assan would leave that to the professional people gatherers. He felt fortunate that Robin never seemed to have much of a problem understanding him, perhaps that was owed in part to her clairvoyance. That seemed to be a trademark among some of the fey. As carefree as Assan came across, it wasn’t all sushi rolls and smiles. Everyone had their struggles, everyone had their conflicts. “Salmon,” came the easy response as if to say that she didn’t need to worry about him. 

...

“The gods are turning their eyes to this realm, Assan. Worry is not something I can let go lightly,” she reminds her with a sigh. Problems kept pilling up like an abnormally dangerous Jenga tower and pretending that they are not is not something that she is capable of doing. Not when it is clear that the smallest of nudges might bring the entire tower crashing down in a tragic manner. Robin can’t help everyone, can’t protect them all, but she has to try to protect those she cares about. Has to try and protect her court too, before everything else. But if she can, she will protect her best friend too, as best as she can. “But do not take as me not trusting you, I know you can take care of yourself. I just. Well, with everything I cannot help the worry.”

The Puppeteer~

NAME. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. 25+ SPECIES. Eladrin SEASON. Fall  OCCUPATION. UTP

You were born amidst a torrent of violence, the earth split at your arrival as the stage was set for you to stride upon the heels of destiny. The Eye has existed nearly as long as your kind has walked this Earth, for as long as there have been mortals, there has been some semblance of the shadowy organization that has plagued the supernatural races of the world. You sewed your magic into the youth of the world, made deals with the desperate and the lost and promised them the family they always wanted - but in the minds of each laid the spell that you had left for them. A silent charm that guided them to the waiting arms of The Eye, if you could not destroy them with your own hands then you would infiltrate them with the hands of others. With a breath of life you brought into a plan of your own division, free of the influence of chancellors or senators, this was your promise to your people: justice. Justice for those who were taken too soon, justice for those who were kept from you still, and justice for those that were taken in by the falsehoods of man.

THIS SKELETON IS CURRENTLY TAKEN.

who?@rowanivar where? the vendors

"Please tell me you actually know that we are in a party thrown by vampires, love," she asks the mortal she had seen wandering around giving the most intense 'i am just a little guy going through life' she has seen on her decently long life. At least he didn't seem to be out of place, more so, looking like he is here on a date. Good for the dude. "There is another human walking around draped in a sheet and pretending to be a ghost and I am pretty sure he knows shit all about the wolf den he just walked into. I don't want to nanny the both of you, but I will if you are also clueless."

thegoodfellow​:

…

When he stumbles, seemingly collapses unto himself 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 weighs 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.

          Hours had passed since Wade had been given the leverage to abandon Robin to her fate. The fey had built a new community to themselves to be salvaged from Rome’s watchful eye and Wade had destroyed that for Robin, inadvertently. He’d had never wished for something like this to transpire, but it seemed his affiliation with the Eye would only force it to be an inevitable. A choice he would have to make no matter the friendship sprouted with the autumnal fey; a choice had to be made or Wade’s personal vendetta would be lost to connections severed. The Eye was a necessary evil to him a means to a fateful end that was vital to him. He was just a mere and measly human, supplemented with natural brawn, but he was human and even brute musculature could not protect him from the evils that awaited him in the night. The Eye allowed him safe passage as his itinerary was customized with necessary tools to defeat said evils. He had made a choice and though it seemed important in the moment, it still felt wrong as he agonized any way to see that Robin had escaped.

He’s unsure of why he’s still allowed access through the fog, expects it to claim him forever but Wade finds his way through to the scene of trauma. Blood is spattered on the ground and he’s certain it has to be Robin’s considering the fatal amount and his stomach churns at the reminder. She’s nowhere to be seen and he tries to find a sliver of positivity in such factor but feels queasy as the metallic scent of blood pervades his senses. There’s this screech that’s chilling, it resounds like a bestial creature that certainly has to be a changeling. He can’t stay not unless he’d like to repay his betrayal with his own life and so Wade crosses the threshold out of New Rome once more certain that he’ll never be allowed to return again.

END.

who? @farenduil where? the last bean  notes: doing the randomize top songs thing and got my type by saint motel

"A little bird told me that Aurora's favorite beverage flavor is pumpkin pie, do you think it's accurate?" She muses loudly as she falls next to Farenduil in line, a smirk of mischief on her lips as she glances up with a wink, making abundantly clear of what she had meant, but not breaching the topic openly for the new human's benefit. "Although, I must admit, this place have quite the delicious winter brews."

title: the hunt continues when: post the tinkerer where: rome, Audelë, more trigger warnings: usual stuff

Agony.

Tamlen’s death had been painful, the drainage that followed a rip on their plan. But Tamlen had come back to them against all odds, and the relief had been overwhelming.

Inan hadn’t.

His death feels like being unraveled, like losing a part of herself that she assumed would always be there. The second heartbeat behind her chest is gone, the thread of devotion and steely determination rotting away as death came to take her warder’s hand. Somewhere, a drow is being born. In Rome, Robin’s warder dies, an unfinished melody, a hunt cut short. 

She hadn’t even been able to convince him to call her by her name. 

Lain’s death had hurt, the growing care she had felt for the lycan, a sharp stab to her chest, but she had not loved the wolf. Not quite, not yet, and now never for he is gone, and she knows that even if Death was the one to collect what was due, she had played a part in that game. It is a tragedy, a story unfinished. 

It was not love. 

Inan was her warder, she had welcomed him in and invited him into her soul. Loving him was not unlike loving a part of herself. She had kept that emotion at bay, well aware that she had done nothing to earn anything from him but his loyalty, suppressing it to prevent any more awkwardness between the two. Inan’s story with Fen’harel is well known, and she would not push through his boundaries after that betrayal. 

Would not have. 

But in the end, it did not matter.

Her warder is dead, decay spreading through Rome as Thanatos collects his due, and all Robin can do within the Titan is sink her thoughts with her fellow Chancellors and fall upon the song of destruction they are weaving until they cannot do so any longer. 

The Titan falls, and with the fall, their end is marked. 

There is no opportunity to fight, no magic to summon, no song capable of stopping the Great Old Ones as they fall upon them like predators upon their prey.  

The next fifteen years are spent in the ground, all thought lost beneath the agony of the song of decay and rot, of the end and the beginning. 

The darkness is a familiar call, the pain an old comfort, akin to the ritual that had seen her confirmed into her role as Fall Chancellor. A legacy of the Dusk Elves that they once were, the ritual recalled costumes of old, and it is now the only reason Robin does not lose her mind to the slow movement of rot, slowly spreading through her body but keeping her alive to keep their nutrients. It’s a song of fungi, beautiful on its ugliness, on its destruction. She doesn’t lose herself to it, doesn’t break down and lose hope, but it comes close. Were it not for the familiarity of the torture, she might have.

She doesn’t. 

She awakens to the astral bombs falling and to freedom that tastes as sickly sweet as the rot that had settled on the back of her throat over the last decade. There is no hesitation when she joins the other Chancellors into a song and they come together to become the Titan once more. 

For one last time in this timeline. 

Robin dies in the battlefield, only to awaken in a Rome that has not yet been Forsaken. 

The battle is set aside, more pressing matters coming into the forefront as they find themselves changed. The Chancellors’ retreat, the war pushed back and with it their destruction of Rome, far more important things to do than to deal with the mortals that destroyed them and saved them alike. The world changed one more time, and Robin changed with it, working with the four other chancellors to create Audelë, a new home, alike the Courts that sheltered them for so long, but something new altogether in the same breath.  As the dust settles, she finds Inan, brings him forth into a hug despite his arguments against it and laughs before letting go, polite distance that he is so fond of falling upon the two once more. 

Peace fell upon their kind once more, a deal with the dark elves set in place. And the Courts? The Courts protected once more.

It’s not enough. 

It will never be enough, but her people deserve the rest. Dusk has fallen upon them, and with it comes a new world they need to learn for themselves. Ignoring it all in reckless rage would be foolish, and the tricksters that hide in the shade are anything but that. 

They will wait, they will watch, and they will be ready.

The hunt is eternal, and so are they.

"Is it a mimosa if it does not have orange juice or merely another cocktail?" She muses, expression airy and friendly as she walks closer next to the Winter Chancellor and snaking her hands around her arm, squeezing the muscle there reassuringly as she keeps to the other's pace. It is the other's season, even as their duties and domains of influence have changed, and she is more than willing to bend to Aurora's whims if it means she forgets her duties for one afternoon. It's what the other deserves, after all the heartache said duties had place upon her shoulders. "That, I can do. In exchange, would you indulge me in some gossiping?"

"Well, there's bound to be seasonal mimosas over there," Aurora offered, mustering a smile over. She wanted to be in a great mood despite things lingering below the surface. There was a lot to be thankful and happy about but a couple things still sobered Aurora joy, namely the deaths of her mother and Titania as well as her Warder's unrest. But in favor of the Solstice and all that was going well, the Lunar Chancellor visibly made an effort not to let anything weigh on her.

"Saturnalia Market it is. I think it's important to see what else the world has managed to invent with peppermint flavor... as long as we avoid politics for one night." It was an odd and uncharacteristic request from the business-orientated Chancellor. But if Aurora focused on the lovely celebrations she figured her mood would lift more and more.

TATI GABRIELLE AS MARIENNE BELLAMY