Tales of the Ice Harpy from Glacia

"Mother Night," Karla whispered. "Mother Night."

The group had stepped out of Raven's netherverse on a flat-topped hill that was one of Sceval's official landing places, the gently rolling land spread out below them. Large meadows provided good grazing. Stands of trees provided shade on summer afternoons. Creeks veined the land with clean water.

She had stood on this hill a handful of times in the past five years, looking down on unicorns while the stallions kept careful watch over the grazing mares and the foals playing tag.

Now she looked down on a slaughter.

Turning to the north, Lucivar shook his head and swore softly. "This wasn't a few bastards who had come for a horn to take home as a hunting trophy. This was a war."

Karla blinked away tears. Of all the Blood, of all the kindred races, the unicorns had always been her favorite. They had been the stars in the Darkness, the living examples of power and strength blended with gentleness and beauty. And now that gentleness and beauty was marred by violence, torn white bodies hacked and brutalized and left to lie in the dirt. There were foals as well as pregnant mares in the carnage, protected by rings of stallions and juvenile males who'd been overrun.

"No," she said, shaking her head at the scene. "No. We can't--we can't let this happen. We can't let this stand." Her hands balled into fists and she shook with reaction and rage. "Call them," she said, slashing a glance at Raven and Emma. Surely, together, they could figure out something. "Call them. Call them all. Everyone and anyone you can think of. I want the largest cavalry in the history of Fandom riding to our aid."

She looked back over the hill and buried her face in her hands. "Call them and tell them the unicorns are being massacred. And we need their help."

( The cry for help )

[Once again, many thanks to trigons_child and icecoldfrost. Descriptive text taken from Anne Bishop, Emma and Raven's awesomeness is purely their own. FB is someone wants to report people on the island getting mental messages (fine if they don't!) and this thread for any actions and reactions of people on the receiving end. Actual interaction with Kaeleerans and plotty bits go in the next post.]

The weekend was over and people were back to their old selves, at least if the lovely gifts Momoko had left outside her dorm were any indication. The dorm that a sopping wet Karla had marched to last night in high dudgeon. For reasons. Lots of reasons.

But it was a new day, people were back to normal, graduation was in less than a week, and she'd gotten a special package in the mail from Kaeleer. Banard was apologetic that they likely wouldn't arrive in time for her birthday, but just holding her set Jewels in her hands was enough to make her smile.

There was a cup of coffee in her hand, an ice cream cake with 'Happy Birthday' on it, and a clear view of the street so Karla could wave to anyone who wandered by.

[Open! Was going to be a townie post until I went crazy with the links!]

Karla could hardly contain her excitement. She'd gotten a psychic thread from Helene earlier in the afternoon, requesting her presence at the meeting hall that evening. All day, apprentice and journeymaid Black Widows had been cleaning and airing out the building, the last of the patients having returned home to recuperate the evening before. That could have just been Helene's common sense sense at work. No one who could read psychic scents would want to gather in a makeshift hospital; too much pain and fear and discomfort lingered in the walls.

Common sense or no, Karla was fairly certain that wasn't why the young Black Widows had spent all day diligently scrubbing down every inch of the building.

When a journeymaid proved herself adept at the Craft and practices of the Hourglass, she was acknowledged by her coven and promoted, receiving an hourglass pendant with all of the sand in the lower half as visible proof to all that she was a student no longer, but a full-fledged Black Widow. Karla had been a journeymaid for years, since before leaving Helene's coven to return to the estate and Hobart. In the intervening years, she'd grown up, practiced her Craft, helped friends and acquaintances work through mental and emotional trauma, founded a village to save Black Widows, and rule Haven as Queen for a full season. If there was a more thorough way to prove herself worthy of attaining full Black Widow status, she couldn't think of what it was.

So, after putting in her day in the fields and eating a hearty dinner (not that Warren was around to see, blast him), Karla got ready for her investiture ceremony. She reluctantly decided against wearing Widows Weeds (not everyone had theirs and it would be rude seem too eager), so she settled for a nice dress and brushing her hair and then blithely skipping her way from their cottage to the meeting hall.

She had a cheerful smile for Helene when an apprentice opened the door and led her way in, one that turned into brilliant when she saw who else had shown up. Jaenelle and Gabrielle had also been invited--Helene must have considered this a very special occasion indeed. Her smile faltered a moment later when she saw Luthvian's forbidding countenance near her friends, but regained its merriness when she realized Helene had probably just invited every Black Widow Karla knew. And it never hurt to be polite to the mother of Saetan's youngest son.

This was probably going to be one of the happiest nights of Karla's life.

( Spoiler: It wasn't )

[NFB for long-distance. For interaction if you'd have a reason to be around and/or want to deal with a sobbing witch. After this post, Karla and co are back on-island!]

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 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]

From the way Karla was digging in the gardens, either she was determined to plant ALL THE THINGS or she was working out an impressive amount of frustration.

Karla being Karla, there really shouldn't be any doubt about which one it was.

Not that she was lacking in reasons to be aggravated, mind. She'd been out here fairly frequently since she'd arrived back in Kaeleer--every day spent just planning and preparing instead of going out and doing something saw her out here for at least a few minutes.

Intellectually, she knew that they were better off taking the time now to plan, that rushing in would just risk more lives and make Emma mad. But it was hard to remember that when all her instincts were telling her to go save her people.

Added to that Morton's increasing bull-headedness and their constant arguments and Saetan's little chat with Warren the other night and it would be a miracle if this remained a garden and not just a the site of a future artificial lake.

[NFB and for the empath, please!]

After watching a movie with the boyos, Karla came back to her room to leave a message. She didn't really understand everything that had happened (and the scene with the lepers would probably scar her forever), but she had to give the movie bonus points for creating a truly beautiful and tragic love story. Judas eventually betraying Jesus to his death, all out of jealousy and a misguided attempt to save him? That was just lovely. And their last kiss being one of betrayal--that had just been amazing.

She'd never realized the religions of so many of her friends had been founded on such an epic love story. Maybe she could try to talk to Rilla about this sometime. Find common ground and all that.

After hanging up with Warren's voicemail, Karla realized she had several messages of her own. Several very bizarre messages, in fact. All of which she had to respond to, of course.

Even after eventually figuring out what was going on (and trying to explain it by calling someone), she still kept getting caught by the calls and trying to call back to explain.

Of course, the worst part? Was when she realized that her message to Warren had probably gone to someone else. Hell's fire and Mother Night.

[Mostly establishy & linkdrop, but open.]

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 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!]

Spending one day hiding recuperating was one thing. No one could blame her for needing a day to adjust to the idea that she'd been very nearly killed. On a meat-tree. A day where she could hide, skip classes, ignore everyone--or nearly everyone--and just huddle under the covers for hours on end.

But putting everyone off for a second day would just be inexcusable. So rather than pull the blankets back over her head when her alarm went off, she made herself get up, shower, and head to class. After classes had ended, she allowed herself a nap--almost a week's worth of violence and trauma would wear anyone out--but after she woke up again, she made herself be sociable and productive.

Granted, that had ended up with her getting a surprise budgie, but on the scale of Fandom strange, that barely rated. So she decided to clean her room, put away the stuff from the cabins, and just generally make busy-work for herself so she could say she was being productive without actually having to think about anything. Besides, she doubted her texts from yesterday could buy her more than a day's grace, and she wanted her room to be presentable before anyone stopped to check in on her.

If nothing else, she wanted to make sure there was nothing on the floor around where she'd set up Warren's perch. She liked her belongings budgie-dropping free, thanks.

[Establishy, but open to folks who know about Karla's run-in with the maenad.]