LadyRunic

The Black Jewels

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Faeril Ashkevron

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Location: Hayll
Snaketooth Counter: 24 days left

Giving a sigh, the Widow's eyes slide to the Healer and dog. "I care because it is my duty to. Often those who do not ask, need the Healing the most." Inclining her head stately to the Sister, she gave her a apologetic look. Not expecting her to be anything other than offended. "My dear, while you may not sense something. I have been doing my Craft a good deal longer." Her voice was soft, trying to avoid the insult.

Dujae SaDiablo. The Sadist. Faeril's gave a light chuckle at the whims of fate. How curious was it that her current patient was the man who referrenced a good many of her clients to her. For one service or another. Distraught and in tears over their situation and willing to pay. They couldn't even turn about on her for the lectures she gave them about the proper protocol for bedding a male. The empty headed chits. It was honestly the aspect of her job she took a tad bit too much joy of. "The Sadist. A pleasure to meet one who sends so many clients my way." Her grey-blue eyes danced with amusement, as she idly traced the wood grain of the table. Oh, this was going to be fun. Already she heard the firm refusal in his voice that he didn't need healing and for a split second she pitied him. How many people had told her the same thing? How many times had she listened and heeded them? The answer was simply how often Gen could intervene. Oh, it was so very amusing! "However, I assure you, you- Dujae SaDiablo- will be informing me. I am a incredibly patient and persistent especially when you, my dear, need healing." Her gently smile turned to a stern frown. "More to the point and fact, I am a Healer. Thus as healing is my Craft and duty I cannot merely let you go without trying. For I too have a reputation."

Let him make of that what he would. She was not the most well known of Healers, but she was good, relentless. As a Widow, she was even less known. A rumor of a rumor, the whispers of a spider to a fly. To the fact those who sought her out for both her aspects were oft desperate or insane. The prices for that sort of thing was high. Her skill as a Healer, however, was what she made herself known for. As she once told her Sisters, 'Let them think they are safe with the Healer. With the one to tend the wounds you have caused, my Sisters. Let them think my hand as the savior and salvation. Then...' She was distracted by her thoughts by two newcomers. One a Glacian male who earned himself a icy stare of disapproval for his interruption. The other, however.

Her eyes thawed as they gazed upon her Sister, Isa. One of the few Faeril allowed close. With a purr, she gestured between her victim and Sister. "Dujae SaDiablo, Isadora Lafay. My dear, this poor soul believes he does not need my aid." The disbelief in that sweet tone was faux as someone telling another the sky was purple with pink poka dots. However as she turned back to SaDiablo, he was standing. She had caught a tad of what another table was saying and was able to discreet they were speaking of the 'Queen's Pet'. The Sadist, who mercilessly smashed the Consort into the table before limping off. Faeril's eye frozen to the arctic chill that the room had been heading towards. Standing with a grace that spoke of deadly predators, and a pride that was not merely talk she stalked towards the poor beaten consort. Her face however smoothed to a calm, her brows crinkled in worry. Though not for this poor fool.

"And that foolsih man, seems to have never had proper manners. Don't you agree dear?" She smiled with a bone chilling sweetness, the latter bit said to Isa. "To harm another in front of a Healer! No manners at all." Kneeling down next to the poor man, she laid a hand against him with a croon of affection that a woman might give a handsome man. Anyone who knew the Ice Healer would know it as a spider casting her web over the oblivious bastard. "But how awful for that Sadist to do such a thing to you! Here now, let me tend those wounds. He really was quite out of line, wasn't that Queen's Pet?" She plucked a cup from the table and offered it to the fallen consort with worry and concern written all over her face. "Now come somewhere quiet so I can fix you up proper like... You handle that brute well! Sending him running!" She bit her lip in concern- though it was that Isa might play along and not for this fool to get better. Rather he would pay a price. A price for harming her patient!

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Gen Saroth

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Location: Forest

With a deep laugh, Gen shielded his body with his power and grabbed the whip. Wrapping it about his forearm as he yanked the lash from the man with all his Elyrien strength. Bringing his sword up in a sharp motion that would keep the fool from spilling his blood on the keen edged blade. Saroth brought it down sharply with a bit of his Green jewel's power to shatter the shield. The pommel smacking the man on top of the head with the hope of knocking him senseless. But the warrior wasted no time. Cutting the rope from the landen horse's neck, the Warlord wasted no time in hogtying the man. Making damn sure it was uncomfortable. For good measure, he tore the man's Jewel from him and his shirt. The first went into Gen's own pouch, the latter was fashioned into a gag and shoved into the man's mouth.

One problem taken care of, Gen sheathed the sword and tossed the lash to the side. Turning towards the Jeweled Healer with a slow motion. "Easy there, Lady-o. I'm here to help with what I can if you'd let me." He gave the mare a boyish grin, as his voice remained in it's 'soothing' tone. Something that only worked on Razor Tongue when she had a traumatic loss of a patient. Works on Ashke, it ought work on a terrified mare. Slowly he gently touched the mare's shoulder, hoping those hooves wouldn't lash him or his prisoner. Slowly he worked the ropes about her free and dropped them to the ground. Keeping himself talking either to ease his nerves or the mare's he wasn't sure. "Gen Saroth's mine name. That sorry sod over there is going to pay for hurting you, dear. I know you're some sort of Healer, or I hope I'm not misreadin' something and insulting you. But I've got a Healer friend as well, she'll see to it he gives us every ounce of information, then make sure he can never hurt another. You can come along, and I'd rather you did. Ashke can look you over, help you deal with what that bastard did. Lest, you got some place you gotta be?" He slowly back away, keeping himself between the mare and her tormentor. Not exactly a smart place to be. But he did want Fae to take a look at the man. A look then some. Shattering a jewel was cruel business.

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Ravyn Ghosteye

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Location: Hyall

Ravyn looked in shock as the man she had thought to first rob, distracted the slaver. Not merely that, but he had followed her into the alley and suggested she flee. Something she was intending to do anyways. There was no reason to stick about and face the backlash- literally- when she had what she came for. Though her own golden eyes widened when she spied the black jewel that hung from his neck. Her jaw dropping slightly. "B-black..." She whispered, horrified she ever thought of robbing him. A near miss too many for this day.

Taking his advice to heart she gave a short nod to the man and turned on her heels racing down the alley and for the exit of the city. Hoping to catch a wind back to Dae Al Mon. That slaver would in no way dare to enter that territory. Her kin's witches were notorious for their tempers. She doubted they would let one sorry man like her oppressor in their borders. She'd just have to keep her head down. And that was exactly what she moved to do.

Samhain Intrigues

@Belle *hugs*

Samhain Intrigues

@BlackPanther @Fallenreaper @Vesuvius00 @FallenTrinity @Landaus Five-One @Demonic Angel @Belle @LovelyAnastasia

Don't forget to posts. However my next update won't be for five days. So you get three extra days.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

@Morose Shame. I was so tempted to do another post with the tigerAyita giving the "that's exactly why I'm not getting in" look
Guin she trusts somewhat. Those buttons and everyone else? No.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Got a post up. Hard one to write for her.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Ayita Dyrkin

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Location Xavier's Institue - Outskirts of New York
{"Crispy Frosted Flakes."}

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Both the tiger instinct and the woman were just staring at Guin. Both holding the mental look of a confused and slightly terrified creature. Which upon a tiger was a interesting face. Apparently her words hadn't exactly comforted Ayita. Just moments before she had been staring mentally in disgust at herself for enjoying the feel of someone stroking her luxurious fur. Beautiful as she was, she was still a giant cat! A terrifying predator! Who was she kidding, Ayita gave a displeased look at the van as she shook her head vehemently in the negative. All faith was out the window. Nope, no, hell no.

She was not getting into that blasted, black box of death. There would be a hyper speedster, one who already liked chaos and couldn't be trusted! Guin, who was talking like she was planning on something blowing up. Two unknowns, something she never liked. Toss in they were going into a city and mixing in chemicals. Ayita stood up. Her ears pinned back as she gave a groaned growl. A moan of dispair for her human form. Lashing her long stripped tail back and forth while turning about she plodded towards the door. Shoving Allison along ahead of her via sheer muscled shoulders and head. Survival right now over some crazed van with a volume for a manual and the very tall possibility to blow up. Ayita wanted to hunt, not turn into a Crisped Frosted Flake. Nor was Allison for that matter. Ayita grumbled at the fact she had a bit of a heart. A small shred of humanity. Enough that she wanted to help, but that black box of death was not looking tempting.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

@FantasyChic I'm still debating. Will be posting t ommorrow or late tonight as I can barely move right now.

Samhain Intrigues

Post is up!

Samhain Intrigues

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Samhain Intrigues

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-Location: Gates to Under the Mountain-

The days had gotten colder. The troupe of humans had grown weary of their trek as it had led them further North. Towards and into the hilly roots of the tall, snow capped mountains. High above the sky darkened to a inky black. Wind hisses and howled through the far away peaks, carrying the slight sounds of wails and roars that might belong to something more. But soon the moans and cackle of the wind changed from above to below. Seeming to come from the earth itself as the mountain seemed to swallow the sky. The descent was not one mortals would notice at first, tired and hungry as they were. The stench of magic and the glean of laughter on that fell upward flowing wind carried tell to the Fae of the group. This was one of many entrances to a great city. One of the few to survive the rise and tide of time and tragedy. It’s name was long lost to time and possible memory. The once sheer cliffs to either side defined themselves as a tunnel that reeked of damp earth and the echoing sounds of a cavern. But still the road led on. Twisting lower, with gleaming gems and moss giving enough light to see by. The mortals would struggle to see, but to the Fae it was a mild inconvenience. Undoubtedly to make the newcomers nervous, and it was working in ways a month of travel did not.

Several humans stumbled, or balked at going farther. Yet they could hardly stop, drawn deeper though they did not look like they willed it. The tantalizing sound of a syllabant harp twanging deep in the heart of the earth. A eerie voice whispering a lullaby in another language, urging the humans into it’s lair. Deeper they went, the walk’s length was unknown. Days, hours, or mere minutes. The song could not be resisted. However when they entered the large cavernous hall before the Gates, several of the mortals stifled gasps and screams.

The light had gotten better casting a horrid ghastly hue of blue across the stone floor. Pitted with puddles of what certainly contained more than mere water. Hanging from the stalagmites were corpses of Mortal and Fae alike. Some even still alive as they swayed from various contraptions, Pleading for that final release of death and receiving nothing. Word of the little party had arrived ahead of them it seemed. For merely a hundred yards ahead was a large fifty foot tall gate wrought of iron and silver. Oiled by blood and held together by a large and thick cord. From said cord hung the torso of a women. Her thick black hair falling below her. A face that had once been beautiful, and still was if not for the black flecks upon it. If not for her hollow cheeks and eyes. If not for that smiling mouth was twisted with a sadistic glee.

There were even more screeches as she let the harp drop from her hands to clatter against the stone flagons. Her hands twisted into black tipped claws. So it was then she spoke, her voice a coo and missing the obvious pain she must be in. ”Ssso many new Mortalsss. Kiron will be muy interested. Muchasss graciasss, mi bien Yin. Wolf.” The woman’s voice was strained and her accent spoke highly of that of a native Spaniard. Spreading her hands, her clothing was composed of a tight black wrap about her torso that disappeared into the large cord that held the Gates together. ”Buenosss nochesss, humanosss. Bienvenido a Under a Mountain. Mi debido, Generalssss? To enter the bein city?” She crooned to Yin and Kaeleer.

They would know her as the Sentinel of the Gate. A guardswoman. A rat catcher. Desdemona was not a natural to the World of the Fae. Once roaming the Mortal Realm as a Wylde Fae. She joined the grand UnSeelie Court merely four hundred years ago. A spot that stung her pride, as she was looked so lowly upon by the Grand Families, though she claimed herself far older than their oldest ancient. But for all she was looked down upon, she was something of the most sought after Naga in the city. A twenty foot long black cobra, the being was well known for toying with her food. Already she eyed up the mortals as they shifted about nervously. Wondering which would be granted to her for the toll as she thought was her due. Unfortunately, these were under Falk’s direct hand and thus out of her reach. Had they been personally owned by either Fox or Hound. She would perhaps have some claim to a small one. Desdemona Liguardia had fallen a long way in the last few centuries.

Behind her the relief of the gate was cast with that same blue light that showed more of the interesting pastimes of the UnSeelie Fae Beneath the Mountain. Each had a different taste, each more horrid than the next. The tunnel however was the only real entrance that opened to the South. It still would be a good hour till they reached the City proper. There were various tuns off to lesser wanted tunnels. But the City was the Gem of Under the Mountain. The other ‘entrance’ led North and that was forbidden use save by Falk and his chosen. Those that tried often decorated these corridors. The maze that filled the mountains and housed terror beyond image. Though soon these mortals would see some. A rumble far off promised it. Youngesters were excited to have a chance at fresh meat. Whether they were on the menu or not.

Translation

(Thank you, my good Yin. Good night humans. Welcome to Under the Mountain. My toll?)

The Black Jewels

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Faeril Ashkevron

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Location: Hayll

It was a sigh of relief when Fae was able to steer the man into a nearby inn. It would have been difficult if she had to argue with him and garner her more attention than the Eyrien woman wished for. The odd dog running up to the man was not expected, but he seemed to speak to it. Fae decided not to question this and hold her peace til a later date. Then she would find the answer. Her will was iron forged in ice. Such as it should be, a small inner smirk agreed. She would not be her mother's heir otherwise. Giving a courteous nod to the woman who had ran up after the dog. Her firm voice still soft, soothing really, as she spoke to the woman. "I was about to get some food, when I noticed this one was unwell." Though she offered little more in explanation as she bodily steered the male into the inn and a secluded table. Will or nil he. Giving her current victim a scolding look she would give to any patient at his 'I'm fine.'. The two most hated words for someone like her. She knew something was wrong. It screamed to her senses than something was wronged and after nine hundred years of her Craft... She learned to pay attention to those details. "I am no witchling, sir. But I have not done my job as long as I have without learning 'I'm fine' is the biggest and boldest lie in existence." Her voice still was soft, quiet hard to hear by the passerbys and meant only for he. Though there was a will behind the words set in the icy gaze she fixed on him as hands set him in a seat.

If the Kindred and witch followed, she would also gesture them to a potential chair with the quick efficiency of someone used to working in chaos. Pulling a chair out for herself, and adjusting her wings to best suit the situation. A blessing she was wearing one of her backless gowns that left the small of her back to the loop of the top about the back of her neck bare. Fae never could understand how people could stand the slits in clothing that wings went through. Smoothing the wrinkles from the gown with a irritated glower and small glimmer of magic, she turned the glower to her current 'project'. It was cold of her to think this way, but people were expendable. Generally. This one perhaps was a good bit different. If only for his anger. Gen the Faithless was proof of that. Thinking of her old friend her eyes softened as she returned to gaze at her current problem. Biting at the crook of her forefinger in thought. Gen would have a fit knowing she was turning people's lives on their head, but such was her way.

Giving a sideways look to the other woman. A silent warning and question. Was she to be trusted? Some Healers could not be, those generally stayed out of her way. The wicked thought gave way to a small smirk from the Iron Healer. If she could not be... Well, she did know a good friend of hers who might be interesting in seeing how she was dissected. It was ungracious of her, but she was a professional and not some gossip rag-woman. "Faeril Ashkevron is my name. You, Master 'I'm fine', are certainly not that in either context. So care to inform me as to who you really are, and perhaps even enlighten myself as to the actual problem? Which, I assure you, I am very adept at dealing with and fixing problems quietly and quickly." A quirked brow adding to her consequence. Faeril's voice never rose about a crystal clear and cold casual. Though there was a defined softness to it, as if talking to a spooked or startle creature to sooth it. Faeril neatly hid her smirk behind a concerned looking frown, at the though of this angry and powerful male finding himself treated in such a way. It was as amusing to her as it was probably confusing to him.

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Gen Saroth

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Location: Forests

Gen sighed as he flew, there was little game out today. At least what he could see from the sky. Landing he moved through the forest the Eyrien paused. Hearing the screams of horse and a lash. A whip's lash. It wasn't a over familiar sound, but once heard it was seldom forgotten. Pausing, the Warlord crouched in the bushes. Regretting that he had not come sooner. He was not overly familiar with the Kindred but they were kind and not of the Blood. Friends. Allies.

Respected.

As the Landen horse fell, traumatized as it's jewel was shattered. Gen's slow rage burned a slow anger. Faeril would not like this. Not in the slightest. She would want this man, the village would want this man. Readying the bow, strong fingers nocked the arrows and aimed. Not at the man, but the horse. No horse, no easy way out. He sighted for the beast's heart and fired. He did not still his movement there and strode forward, drawing his sword with a snarl. "You bastard." His smooth voice was rough with rage. The only words before he charged the man and strove with a slash. He would take this waste of life alive. He would answer for his crime.

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Ravyn Ghosteye

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Location: Hyall

A whistling caught her attention. A purse of gold kept it. That would feed her for potentially months. Ravyn's eyes widened as she moved stealthy along. She shouldn't be doing this, she knew it. It was a bad city to steal, far too risky. But it was so very tempting. Far too tempting for a young thief. Salt mines be damned. Some risks were worth taking surely? So she watched the man and followed. Her attention taken from the odd man who had a group form about him. Grouped targets were never a good thing. Too many eyes, too many hands.

Feet slipped along the street and she eased along side the man and moved quickly. Striking like a snake, she slide a dagger along the purse and gave a sharp tug. Freeing the straps that held it to the man's belt. Not waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and fled into the crowd. Darting around and through knots of people, making for the alley as she prepared to cast a slight illusion over herself. Ravyn wasn't sure what it would be yet but she'd have to decide soon.