glacial_queen: (The Hall/The Keep/The Estate)
Karla had received a note. It had appeared on her desk with neither her Steward nor her maids certain how it had gotten there. The half-sheet of parchment had been folded into thirds and sealed with a few drops of black wax. She'd been a hesitant to open it, a hesitation that had only grown when she'd picked it up. There was a foreboding and a bone-deep rage trapped in the fibers. That it was Jaenelle's did not make Karla feel much better.

Karla,
Meet me at the Keep at dawn. Your expertise will be required.
Jaenelle


Taking a deep breath, Karla vanished the note and sent commands for a Coach to be readied for her immediate departure. Jaenelle was expecting her at dawn, but Karla wasn't one to wait. Not when she could feel the coldness of Jaenelle's fury as an ache in her fingers. She could think of the kind of expertise Jaenelle might require from a Queen who was also a triply-aspected witch--and also the kind that she might require from Karla and her years in Fandom. What she didn't know what why.

But she brooded over that, for the entirety of the Coach ride to Askavi. Oh yes. )

Not trusting herself to speak, Karla nodded, and exited the common room. She was unsurprised to see a portal already irising open. Stepping into it left her feeling like she'd stepped into a cage. In a way, she had. But she had made the choice to obey her Queen. That was the only thing that made stepping through to Fandom tolerable. That and the knowledge that dawn would arrive much more quickly on the island, long before her patience splintered into dust.

[Text adapted, spindled, and mutilated from "Prince of Ebon Rih", Chapter Two by Anne Bishop. Open for phone calls and texts]
glacial_queen: (Concerned 1)
The lightening sky wasn't doing anyone any favors. It just brought the slaughter out in stark relief. The pale white bodies seemed to glow, inevitably drawing one's eyes. It was impossible to pretend that they were just sleeping. The signs of violence were too numerous to ignore.

One by one, people began appearing on the hillside next to the small, huddled party that had already arrived. Some, Karla knew. Others possibly, she didn't. It didn't matter to her. All that mattered was that they were here. They were going to help her try to stop this madness. Friend or annoyance or complete stranger, they all had her gratitude

When they had all arrived, the purple portals closing into a tired-looking Raven, she raised her hands--

--And that was when the unicorns struck.

When Unicorns Attack! )

"If you're not sure if the person you bump into is a friend, say you're with the Lady again. If they have no response, they're probably here to murder more unicorns. Feel free to dispatch them as you see fit."

"She means kill them," Lucivar growled.

"No I don't," Karla corrected. "...Much. Look, so long as you protect the unicorns, I don't care how you do it."

[Much of this was taken from, you guessed it, Anne Bishop's Heir to the Darkness, origami'd for our own playground. Please hold for OCD and copious sobbing as I try to figure it all out OCD up if minimal.]
glacial_queen: (Sidra)
"The first part of our plan is coming along nicely," Hekatah said. "Little Terreille is, at last, justly represented in the Dark Council."

Lord Jorval smiled tightly. Since slightly more than half of the Council members now came from Little Terreille, he could agree that the Territory that had always felt wary of the rest of the Shadow Realm was, at last, 'justly' represented. "With all the injuries and illnesses that have caused members to resign in the past two years, the Blood in Little Terreille were the only ones willing to accept such a heavy burden for the good of the Realm." He sighed, but his eyes glittered with malicious approval.

In which bad guys plot. )

Jorval rubbed his lower lip. "So the Queens of Little Terreille would eventually rule all of Kaeleer. I like it. Where do we begin?"

Hekatah tapped the map again and the two men bent their heads to look at the Territory she indicated. Sceval.

[NFI, NFB, just setting up some things. *Innocent whistling* This all taken (with a few minor alterations and the addition of our pal, Unky Hobart) from Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows, Chapter 15, part 1. OOC is always love.]

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