glacial_queen: (Your Majesty)
It had been over a week and Winsol festivities were still in full-swing. However, not everyone was off enjoying the holidays. No, the ever-vigilant, ever-concerned Dark Council was meeting right in the middle of it, trying to keep up with the flood of hysterical complaints from Terrellean Queens and investors who were still losing males in droves as they tried to take the unclaimed land.

In which the Dark Council continues to be dicks, but someone can finally do something about it. )

It was good to breathe outside of the Dark Council chamber, Karla always found. The air in there was always thick and stuffy, almost feeling oily on the back of her throat. "What did you say to that bitch back there?" she asked Jaenelle. "In the Old Tongue."

"You haven't been studying," Uncle Saetan said with a chuckle, which only deepened when Karla shrugged and looked abashed.

"It wasn't on Fandom's required reading list, all right?" she mumbled.

Saetan looked to Jaenelle and saw that she'd withdrawn into herself, face pale and stiff with thought. Better to let her work her way back to them, than try to engage her in conversation before she was ready. As such, he answered Karla's question. "For remembrance. As a reminder."

A wind whispered up her back and Karla shivered. Nor was she the only one. From Jaenelle's lack of expression, she knew full well who was remembering. And what would happen to those who needed the reminder.

[Finally! Heir to the Shadows canon catchup is complete, though there are still a few sections that won't get transcribed. (Suck it, Daemon). Text adapted from Chapter 16, Part 4 from HttS by Anne Bishop. NFB, NFI, OOC is hearts, stars, moons, and clovers. Woo, it's only taken me five years to get through one book! Queen of the Darkness will take much less time, though it'll be awhile before it starts. Woo! End of book block party!]
glacial_queen: (The Hall/The Keep/The Estate)
It was fitting that they were here on tonight of all nights. Unlike the rest of the Realms who were drinking the blooded rum and dancing in honor of Witch (or, at least giving lip service to the idea), tonight those closest to Witch were gathered in the Keep to honor her a little more concretely.

Tonight, the first night of Winsol, they had gathered to the Dark Throne to see Jaenelle form her Court and become Queen of Ebon Askavi.

Telling herself she wasn't nervous--and why should she be nervous, this was her friend, this was Jaenelle, surely wearing the Ebony was no different than wearing thirteen uncut Black Jewels. Either way it was more power than Karla could really even contemplate, so what was the big deal really even if, sure, there had never been anything like this in the entire history of the Blood.

Right, so, anyway, telling herself she wasn't nervous despite the pounding heart, the sweaty palms, and internal monologue that raced along a million miles a minute, Karla entered the large stone chamber that Draca had indicated was the place where the invited guests were to wait until they were summoned to the Dark Throne. Except for the blackwood pillars that contained the candle-lights and a few long tables against the walls that held assorted beverages, the room was bare of furniture.

In which canon progresses! )
A gong sounded throughout the Keep. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, after a pause, a fourth time.

Four times for the four sides of the Blood triangle, the fourth side being what was held within the other three. Like the three males--Steward, Master of the Guard, and Consort/Escort--who formed a strong, intimate triangle around a Queen.

At the back of the room, huge double doors opened outward, revealing a dark emptiness.

Paying no attention to the hesitant stirring around him, Saetan set his glass aside, smoothed his hair one final time, and straightened his new clothes. Since Protocol dictated that processions went from light Jewels to dark, first all the males and then the females, he probably figured he would be at the end of the male line.

Karla and Lucivar exchanged a look and then Lucivar poked his father in the side. )

Saetan had stayed below a little longer than the rest, lingering to talk to Lorn until Lucivar had stormed downstairs and demanded that Saetan come up and keep Karla from picking on him--though he couched it in threats, of course.

With a smile, Saetan followed his youngest son up the stairs to the upper chamber, where he accepted a glass of yarbarah and looked at the animated, laughing faces that now ruled Kaeleer. He wondered what Lorn thought about the many-strand web Jaenelle had woven over Kaeleer, the web that had called so many races out of the mist they'd hidden in for thousands of years.

And, like Karla, he wondered what the Dark Council was going to think. Also like Karla, the idea of their reaction made a wicked smile bloom.

[One more tiny bit of canon catchup and we'll be done with this book! Much of the post taken directly from Heir to the Shadows, by Anne Bishop, Chapter 16, Part 3. Many, many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] trigons_child and [livejournal.com profile] not_a_parakeet for letting me shove their characters in and give them fun lines from canon. NFI. NFB for off-island shenanigans, OOC is love!]
glacial_queen: (Box)
Karla looked around, giving one last check to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind that she might need. Granted, if she was, she could always pop back to the island and grab it, but she wanted to keep those emergency visits to a minimum if she could. She'd be incredibly busy this summer and any time off she got to take, she wanted to be able to keep it for fun things, like trips and visits and not wasting an afternoon searching for her...well, whatever it was she couldn't think of right now.

A summer back in Kaeleer, then back to the island for her last full year here. That seemed crazy to think of, especially since it didn't really seem possible that she was going on her fourth year here. But calendars didn't lie--unless Fandom was being wonky again, anyway--and it was time to start making sure she had some real, practical experience being a Queen, rather than just relying of birth-caste and strength of Jewel to back her claim when she finally did graduate.

Okay. All packed. Now just to find the boyfriend she'd been avoiding for almost a week now, say any last minute goodbyes, and get going.

...Oooor maybe she could go back to making sure she'd packed everything. Of all her other options, that one seemed the least intimidating.

[Meant to post this earlier, but illness and Avengers beckoned! Post & door opened for visits, phone calls, and texts]
glacial_queen: (Awake but in bed)
Karla did not want to be awake right now. She wanted to be asleep, huddled under her covers (under a blanket with the skyline of New Gotham, one of the only remnants of the city left, no Dinah Dinah, no, I miss you) and cuddling her stuffed Arcerian cat, so old and worn and battered it was hard to tell what kind of beastie it had been, once upon a time. When she was asleep, she could ignore everything, especially this persistent ache in her chest, the one that sometimes throbbed Glacia but just as often throbbed Warren. And when she was asleep, she could dream or hope or maybe just pretend that everything was a dream. That this past day...week...month...whatever, had been a nightmare that she could wake up from and forget, cradled in Warren's arms, with Dinah and Momoko and everyone else just a phone call away. She'd even gladly have Hobart back if the rest of it was just a dream.

So far, no matter how many times she'd woken up, it hadn't been. That hadn't stopped her from falling back asleep to try again.

This time, when she woke up again in the late afternoon, she realized that she actually had something to do. Jaime'd called last night with some important information and she needed to pass it on before it was too late. Before she failed yet more people.

Hi all,

Talked to Jaime Reyes. His whole world appears to be fine, untouched by whatever this is. He's offering to take in anyone who can get a portal to his world before Portalocity shuts them down. For more details, you can email jaime.reyes@fandomhigh.net or reach him at 555-BLUE for further information. I encourage anyone who wants out to please consider this option. There are no guarantees that his world will stay untouched, just like there are no guarantees that Fandom will, but Jaime is a good male and will offer you as much protection as he can until this is all over.
She couldn't say, 'until we beat this.' Not right now. And his mom cooks really, really well.

Best of luck to anyone who takes him up on his invitation,
Karla
Fandom Class 2013


[Offer made with [livejournal.com profile] weldedtomyspine's permission, both OOC and IC. If your character wants to bail but needs a place to go, feel free to hit him up and talk! Open for return emails and/or visits to a woebegone witch]
glacial_queen: (Pensive)
Karla was throwing clothes into an overnight bag and trying not to feel guilty. Or relived. Or guilty about feeling relieved. Jack's phone call had given her exactly what she'd wanted: an excuse to get away from the island for a few days, away from the memory of the Games and Katniss's death. Like Triela's death spurring her to Kaeleer for the weekend, Karla just needed a chance to get away.

She hadn't even waited for Jack to finish talking before she was agreeing to catch a fast portal to London.

The fact that she was needed to help catch a murderer who might or might not be a vampire almost made up for the fact that she was abandoning Wesley two days after he lost his girlfriend. Sorta. When she didn't think about it much.

The guilt-relief-guilt spiral wasn't going anywhere fast. Which was another reason she was glad for Jack's call. It gave her something else to think about.

[Open door, open post! Heading to bed now, will pick up pings when I wake up. (Up early to not conflict with plot posts)]
glacial_queen: (Gossip)
Karla was being very good today. Rather than fidgeting or spending all of her free time cataloging all the secret nooks and out-of-the way places she could think of on the island, she was channeling all of her extra energy into into checking on her various herbs and medicinal supplies. Between her conversations with Reno and Lady Ghanima, she thought knowing exactly what she had might come in handy.

Okay, mostly she was trying to distract herself from going down the hall and pouncing on her boyfriend. But this sounded better.

[Open!]
glacial_queen: (Betrayed)
Lucivar felt his shield quiver. It was about to go down again. Cassidy and Morton might be able to put up another one after his came down, but what was the point? They both still wore their Birthright Jewels and those were light Jewels at that. Under the constant onslaught of the Jhinka, they'd have another two, maybe two and a half hours before their Jewels were drained, too.

Even if Aaron and the others showed up now, it was doubtful they'd be able to do much to turn the tide of the battle. Six thousand Jhinka, even lacking Craft as they did, were just too damn many.

No, better to save their strength. Maybe between the combined strength of all of Karla's friends, they'd be able to escape.

He spared a thought for the young male, Ender, who'd had a plan that might hopefully get them out of all this. Idly, he wondered if it would have worked, indeed, if it could work still. If he would have a chance of pulling it off before Lucivar's Craft failed, if he could somehow pull it off at all.

Maybe. Still, it was a slim thread to rest all their hopes on. Lucivar couldn't rely on 'maybes,' not when his Queen's life was at stake.

"Morton," he called. 'Ask Jaenelle and Karla to join me here.' )

[And we are done--though just for the night! NFI, NFB, OOC is golden. Warning in place for death of an NPC and ultraviolence. Text taken, spindled, mutilated, and folded into origami cranes from Anne Bishop's Heir to the Blood, Chapter Thirteen. Preplayed with rockstars, yo. Plot post masterlist found here.

Also, that long ping about Jaenelle being even prettier now? Straight from the text. Oh, Anne Bishop. Why you so crazy?]
glacial_queen: (Authority)
[Continued from here]

After Lucivar finished recounting the numbers arrayed against them, he pushed himself to his feet, calling in his war blade and his bladed Eyrien sticks. "I'll be outside," he growled. "Too much fear in here."

It grated against his nerves, scraped against his precarious self-control. The fact that he had wings like their attackers only made things worse--much of the landen fear in the building was directed at him.

"I've been letting a few in at a time," he continued, "opening holes in the shield to let them through. Killing ten or twenty in the face of thousands doesn't do much, but--" He shrugged. What else was there to do? )

[Same alphabet soup goes here. Warning for violence. Again, still mostly 'inspired by' events in Chapter 13 of Heir to the Shadows. Part two of two; for master post list, please go here.]
glacial_queen: (Listening)
The situation, as haltingly described by both Karla and Lucivar, was dire. Even with Karla and Jaenelle restricting their Craft to the most life-threatening of injuries, there were still a double-handful or more upstairs who were in immediate danger, in addition to the hundreds below who were still grievously wounded. Six thousand Jhinka were outside, willing to fling themselves at the shield and certain death, simply to wear away at it and bring it crashing down.

Lucivar was wearing his Birthright Red Jewels, the Ebon-gray drained almost to the point of shattering, and the reservoir in the Red was precipitously low, too. Karla's Sapphire no longer glowed with its usual inner light; she barely had enough Craft left to light a candle.

Food had run out the day before. The well had dried up that morning. Anything edible that the three of them had carried with them was long since devoured.

And still the psychic witch storm howled on outside, cutting them off from communicating with anyone.

More help would arrive in hours, but honestly? They didn't have that long. )
glacial_queen: (Injured/Ill)
[Continued directly from here]

Before Mari's hand even had a chance to fall back down to her side, Karla appeared in the back door of the room. Stairs could be seen heading up behind her.

"I felt the shield go," she said, her voice hoarse and raw-sounding. "I thought--"

It took her a moment to notice the others, swaying on her feet with exhaustion as she was. Which, of course, gave them plenty of time to notice her. Bones pressed against pallid, sweat-soaked, blood-streaked skin. More blood matted her hair which stood up in little spikes where she'd absently run her hands through it, and yet still more surrounded her mouth, where dry lips had cracked and bled. The skin under her eyes was dull and tight, covered in shadows so dark they looked like bruises. She was wearing a male's shirt, haphazardly buttoned, the sleeves rolled up to show arms thin to the point of emaciation.

To anyone who had been in the other-Fandom, it was a scarily familiar sight.

She stared at her friends for a long moment, while her mind tried to process the fact that they were there, truly there. Her head tilted, as if in question and her right arm came up to point. And then, with nothing like the grace or elegance one read about in novels, her eyes rolled up and she headed for the floor. Drama Queen )

[NFI, NFB, I bet you know where I'm going with this...This section warning free. Text adapted from Chapt. Thirteen of Heir to the Shadows. Uhh, very loosely adapted. List of previous entries can be found here. Yeah, I got nothing more to add.]
glacial_queen: (Amdarh)
*There.* Prince Smoke eased out of the underbrush to greet Morton as soon as he stepped out of the Coach *That is the set of huts that the Lady and the others went to.* He whined a little in his throat. *There is a a bad-meat feeling there. But it comes and goes, like scent on a changing wind.*

After hearing from Beale that Prince Smoke had accompanied Lucivar and Jaenelle to Askavi, Morton had contacted the kindred wolf as soon as he'd landed the Coach in Askavi and his attempt to contact either Lucivar or Jaenelle had been fruitless. His relief at finding out that his wayward cousin had been following Jaenelle turned to concern when Smoke told him that the three humans had gone into a village and hadn't returned. It was the same village that Lady Tara's spell had pointed to; that much was certain. But knowing where Karla was didn't explain why they were there. Or why they couldn't come out.

That concern turned to decided unease as he stepped forward to examine the cozy-looking little village, a mile or so in the distance. A landen village, he thought, since he wasn't getting a hint of any Blood psychic scents in there. Which was damned odd, considering Smoke had tracked Karla and the others to this village and was certain they hadn't left. And now that Smoke mentioned it, Morton did notice a faint hint of corruption, like something flickering out of the corner of his eye. No sooner had he noticed it, it was gone again.

"Smoke, head back to Dhemlan and alert the High Lord," Morton said, still studying the sleepy village of Agio. Had he just felt the Ebon-Gray...? No, nothing. "Tell him to contact Khary and Aaron, too, and pass on everything you just told me. I don't like whatever's down there, and Karla, Jaenelle, and Lucivar are right in the middle of it."

With a quick Rrruff! and a small lick at Morton's hand, Smoke trotted back towards the Coach and vanished onto the White Wind. Even hopping onto the Purple Dusk back to Dhemlan and then having Aaron and the others ride the Green Wind from Glacia to Askavi, they were still looking at more than a handful of hours before help would arrive.

No use waiting, then. "Let's go," he said, turning to face the others. "Let's see what kind of trouble my cousin's landed herself in now."

From his tone, Morton was assuming it was trouble of the most dangerous kind. )

[Warnings in place for explicit violence and potentially disturbing imagery. NFI, NFB, OOC=love. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Heir to the Shadows. Ish. Part one of several; the full list of previous entries can be found here.]
glacial_queen: (The Hall/Keep)
It was a little tense in the Hall today. Even through the dark power that saturated the very stones of the building, those sensitive to such things could feel that emotions were running very high. On top of Karla having gone missing, no one had heard from either Jaenelle, Lucivar, or Smoke, and an emissary sent from the Dark Council was scheduled to arrive the any minute now to 'look into the distressing violence Lady Angelline had shown herself capable of.'

The door to the study was locked, bolted, and Black-shielded. Even so, it radiated danger and a hot, riotous fury.

Upon arriving, the students from Fandom were led into a wide, receiving chamber. Food was set out on the sideboard--things would have to be a lot more cataclysmic that this for the servants of the Hall to forget their duties--and four males were already waiting within.

Not everyone appeared to be delighted to see them. )

[As you can all guess, NFI, NFB, what we'd love OOC commentary. So begins the saga of posts spread across multiple entries because of stupid LJ post size limits. The second half of this carries a warning for dark themes and potential trigger issues, as Saetan again explains safframate. Continued from here. Part...oh god, I've lost track. Part a billion, okay? (I, II, III, IV, V, and VI)]
glacial_queen: (Sleeping-Tangled Dreaming)
After a busy day of brunch and catching up and residual excitement over being named sophomore princess, Karla had no problem falling asleep. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was claimed by dreams. )

Karla woke from her dream with a strangled cry, dragging herself up and out from layers of blankets. The room felt hot as an oven and her hair was plastered to her skin with sweat. None of that mattered. She had to go, to get home. Jaenelle was in trouble. She didn't know what was happening, but it didn't matter. Karla would take care of her afterward. Sweet Darkness, please let there be an afterward.

The cold, the fear, the buzzing had all vanished along with her dream. But within her, she could still feel the bone-deep rage. Mother Night, the rage!

Nooooooooooooo!

[Warning for allusions to a prior assault. Dream!Warren modded with express permission from [livejournal.com profile] not_a_parakeet. Snippets of text taken from Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows, Chapter Thirteen. For the roommate only, please. So kicks off the plot!]
glacial_queen: (Telephone)
Karla was bored. This was no great surprise, as it was currently stupid o'clock in the morning and most of her fellow passengers were sleeping. Not Ben (of course), but then Ben had been in a fairly grumpy mood since this so-called rescue mission had begun. Between trains, Battle School brats, almost nonstop talk of sex and babies between Bean and Petra, and the incredibly frustrating lack of progress, Karla was fairly certain that his Jedi-trained equanimity was wearing thin. Needling him Attempting to strike up a conversation with him would probably only lead to an argument and bitchfacing.

On top of being bored, Karla was also worried. They had already been in the future for over two months and still no sign of Ender (please see previous statement re: incredibly frustrating lack of progress). Karla was hoping that time here was going faster than Fandom--Kaeleer was about double Fandom-time, she'd discovered--but even that meant that it was approaching mid-March back at school. She'd told people that they would hopefully only be gone a few days; had they started worrying yet? Sending out search teams? Darkness forbid--contacting Saetan?!?

What about midterms? What about the play? What about the dance?

Fortunately, Ben had spent a lot of the time fiddling with his commlink. It had gotten to the point where Karla had deliberately started bringing up the baby conversation to try to drive him away to work on it. Karla was not above playing dirty sometimes. Especially not when it got results.

Leaning over to poke at him, she hissed, "If you let me borrow your commlink, I'll keep the topic off of babies from now until we get where we're going."

A few minutes later, Karla was dialing a number.

[Open! If you think you'd get a call from Karla, you probably did! Ben modded with approval from [livejournal.com profile] momslilassassin NFB]
glacial_queen: (Towel)
It was the early morning after a fairly late night, and yet Karla felt wonderful. She couldn't pinpoint exactly why she felt so great, she just did. It was like the air was fresher, the weak winter sun warmer, or--

--Or her roommate hotter.

Karla stopped in the doorway of their room, toiletry basket hanging from limp fingers. She'd always thought that Gabrielle was pretty, even in that hideous green shirt she liked so much, but, seeing her now, Karla realized that her roommate was actually quite beautiful.

And more than a little sexy.

Hell's Fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. She was in love with her roommate.

[Door open, post locked to the roommate in question, please!]
glacial_queen: (Gender-not best pleased)
This was not going to be the worst day of Karla's life. That honor went to the day her Uncle Hobart had interrupted lessons to tell her that she was an orphan; that her parents and Morton's had died in a horrible accident. Conveniently enough, this tragedy left Hobart in charge of Glacia, since it had lost both its Territory Queen and its strongest Black Widow. It also left Hobart in charge of her, once the paper's naming him her legal guardian were 'found' in her father's study.

Yeah, as far as craptastic days went, that was number one. No contest.

It probably wouldn't make the second-worst day, either. The day that had ended with Morton shoving her into a Coach on her way to Fandom was easily number two. Nerve-wracking horror and existential angst just really couldn't compare to an attack meant to leave her worse off than dead.

Worst Day Number Three, however, that spot was up for grabs. Not that she didn't already have something she could consider the third-worst day of her life, but it was definitely open to competition.

Like many of the other girls this morning, Karla also didn't notice anything different at first. It wasn't until she had propped herself up on her elbows and glanced down at the bump in her blankets that did not belong there that she started to have an idea what had happened in the night. Still, it wasn't until she held up the blankets, yanked her nightdress to the side, and got a very intimate view of parts that definitely were not her own, that the germ of an idea blossomed into complete and utter certainty.

Even then, she clung to denial for as long as she could: This isn't happening. This is a dream; it must be. Mother Night, this isn't real!

Reality check in five...four...three...two...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

Huh. Even her wailing was more masculine today.

[Expecting one, but open for friends, roommate, random people drawn by the sound of Karla's brain shattering into itty, bitty pieces. If you do come poke at Karla, please be aware she will NOT be handling this well (though slightly better after Layla's visit). Please know that her horrible mood is not mine. Random bouts of SP warning]

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