Tales of the Ice Harpy from Glacia

It was almost time for then to catch their portal home, but Morton had cautiously decided that there was enough time to visit one more landen village before they left. Even Julian didn't have much a problem with this, mollified by the five Blood males (and seven females) that Karla had handwavily, because cons are exhausting offered a place in her First Circle, once she'd made her Offering.

Once there, they'd scattered to their respective duties with an ease that came with having done the same thing many times within the past two weeks. Karla took over whatever building was the largest, more interested in being a Healer than a Queen, taking care of whatever ailments came her way, either with Craft, mundane medicines, or just some brisk advice. Warren sat nearby, making sure she had plenty to eat and drink, while talking to the people about their problems and their woes, making sure they felt heard, understood, and cared for. People who might otherwise have been afraid to come to Karla were set at ease by his openness and, more importantly, his lack of Jewel.

Jono and Julian were teamed up elsewhere, talking frankly about the war that Karla would be bringing to Glacia, about her plans to depose the current Queen and her Ruling Council, and making it clear that any landen who wished to fight--or even learn to better defend his village--was welcome to join with them. Jono made it very clear that the landens that joined with them would be more than simply fodder for the Blood. Their willingness to fight for a Queen that would see them as people too had even Julian offering a grudging respect.

Morton was out in the fields, delivering the Queen's Gift to nourish the crops. A cupful of Karla's blood in a bucket of water was enough to give the tiny plants new life and fullness, ensuring that the village could meet their new tithes while still having enough leftover for themselves. And Kaelas remained outside of the village, keeping watch with his superior kindred senses, which he never failed to point out to their group of tiny noses and ineffectual teeth.

[NFB, and all PCs modded with permission. Violence and dark themes in the comments, because what would a trip to Glacia be without those?]

"All right," he said, vastly uninterested in their teenage romantic drama. "Get in there. We got a kid to save."

"Take my hand," Kitty said. "I can get us--"

Still blushing, Karla gave her a grin. "Thanks, but," she said, and passed through the outer wall of the facility, "I got it."

"Is there anything you can't do?" Kitty asked, looking a little skeptical.

Karla just offered her a grin. "You should see my friend Jaenelle," she replied. "The other answer is 'be diplomatic.' Speaking of--" she cocked her head to the side and listened to the noise of Magneto's flunky slamming through walls. He sounded like he was getting closer. ( Weren't you supposed to deal with him? )

[NFI, NFB, OOC IS LOVE. Follows this and happening concurrently with this. Events and dialogue largely stolen from X-3, which I've now had to watch multiple times in a day. THAT IS LOVE, YO. And many apologies to throughaphase for any character assassination. I swear, BLAME THE MOVIE.]

Karla ran out of the hole in the ground and stopped, almost dead in her tracks. "Azarath..." she breathed. And then her eyes were dragged to the scene unfolding in front of here.

Mother Night, it was a scene from out of a nightmare. Raven, on the ground, limp in a way only the unconscious could be. Or the dead. Beyond her, running towards the entrance to the tunnels, a snatch of light and dark: Rook and Dinah, trying to keep out of sight.

( And above them all, hovering like the carrion bird that was her name. Raven. )

Holding Rook's hand tightly in hers, Karla promised in an undertone, "We won't let her take you, sweetheart. And you still have time to back out of this if you're not sure you still want to participate. Your safety is the most important thing, here, okay? So if you'd prefer to stay--"

Rook cut off Karla's nervous babble with a shake of her head. "No. This is what I wish to do. Maman and Stepfather have already sacrificed so much for me. I must help get them back." She gave a tentative smile up at all three of them. "And Aunt Dinah will protect me. As will all of you. I am unafraid."

What else was there for Karla to say after that? "All right. Let's do this thing."

( Children as bait. What could possibly go wrong? )

( In which our heroines are shocked to discover this was a bad plan )

( And their villain makes her appearance )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is always love. Warning in place for violence and incredibly stupid ideas. Preplayed with trigons_child and blondecanary, coded using whateverknight's swanky coder. Warning for violence, megalomania, and the occasional comic book villain monologue. Follows this, this, and this!]

Karla was feeling wonderful as she slowly started heading towards consciousness. Last night had been amazing, simply amazing and she snuggled close to where Warren was curled up. Mmm, he was so warm and soft and...

Soft? That was not actually one of the words she would use to describe her boyfriend. Her hand crept up and--

WARREN MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT HAVE A PAIR OF THOSE!

Her eyes flew open as she bolted up, clutching the sheet to her chin. Looking frantically around, Karla realized three things:

1) She was waking up in a room that she did not recognize,

2) She was stark naked, and

3) Neither of the people she was waking up next to were the male she went to bed with.

"Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful."

( In which Karla's dignity hits a new low. )


( Julian Hagen was unaware his bad fortnight had just gotten worse. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is love! Preplayed with the amazingness that is blondecanary and trigons_child. Coded with the amazingness that is whateverknight's preplay coder. Warning for spoilers for Queen of the Darkness.]

The bright red, neon light of Fangtasia was a bizarre sight in the parking lot of the otherwise drab strip mall. At the door, as usual, was a tall, elegant vampire in black, looking bored.

( we’re off to see the wizard! or eric. one of those. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is better than TruBlood! Pam is courtesy of trickydemigod, natch, and Eric once again comes to us courtesy of momslilassassin! Follows after here, here, and here.]

Lucivar lay on his back in the young grass, his hands behind his head, his wings spread out to dry after the quick dip in the spring-fed pool. Jaenelle and Karla were still splashing about in the cold water, washing the sweat and dirt out of their long hair. He closed his eyes and groaned contentedly as the sun slowly warmed and loosened tight muscles.

Yesterday, they'd awakened just before dawn to find Jaenelle busily rummaging through the food pack. He'd put together a hasty meal while Karla had broken down the camp before the physical tension produced by the drugs forced Jaenelle to move.

It hadn't been the unrelenting drive of the previous days, and, as the day'd worn on, physical tension gave way to emotional storms. Anger would flood her suddenly, then turn to tears. He'd given her space as she raged and swore. Karla had held her while she cried. When the storm passed, she'd been fine for a little while, perhaps as long as twenty minutes. They'd walked at an easy pace, stopping to pick wild berries or rest near a stream. Karla'd kept them entertained with stories of her crazy school and the friends who were like no Blood males or females they'd ever met. Then the cycle would start over, each time with a little less intensity.

It had still been grueling, mind. The first outburst of emotion had hit around noon, the second, a little before three. In between them, there was still the constant movement, the difficult trek made even moreso by the unforgiving pace Jaenelle had set. The intervals had shortened as Jaenelle's body tired, but even their last stretch before making camp for the night had been an hour-long hike, most of it uphill.

Which made today's late start, with the chance to sleep in past sunrise and even bathe a bit, something akin to paradisaical. Smoke was off doing a bit of hunting; the wolf had scented a herd of elk and had gone off to explore. When he came back, Lucivar was thinking of sending him back to the Keep to tell Saetan that they were all right, that Karla was with them, and that they'd be coming home from Askavi in a few more days.

Not that he was going to say anything, but he was proud of Karla. The pace was wearing on her, but she refused to complain and did her best to keep up. She wouldn't know it, but Jaenelle was slowing down a bit for her, making sure Karla didn't get outdistanced. Lucivar was grateful for anything that made Jaenelle take it a little easier. ( Though the next time the little witch cheated him out of the last mug of coffee, he was going to dunk her into the nearest lake. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is delicious. Warning for violence. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows. All of her narrative is awesome and I never said anything to the contrary. Really. Part 5 of plot (Parts one, two, three, and four). Up early because I have a problem I AM REALLY BUSY TOMORROW, OKAY?]

Karla was heading to the courtyard of the Keep, where a portal had been ordered for her return to Fandom. It still felt wrong, oh so wrong, to be heading back to safety and comfort while Jaenelle and Lucivar were out in the wilds of Askavi, circling each other in a dark and dangerous dance. She was supposed to just go home and focus on class while she was wondering if Lucivar still walked the living Realms? If Jaenelle was still suffering from the effects of the safframate? Or--worse yet--wandering the Twisted Kingdom? Even if they needed her and had to summon her back home, it would be days and days until she could return--Kaeleer's time flowed at double the rate of Fandom. Should they discover they needed her skills tomorrow, the earliest Karla could expect to return was next week.

This was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Maybe if she talked to Saetan once more, this time he would see reason. Or at least get so tired of arguing about it, he'd just let her stay.

She veered off, down the hallway that led to Saetan's suite, marshaling all of her arguments. Presented logically and impartially, she would get through to him. That had been the problem before. She'd let herself get worked up, too emotional. Saetan had seen her as a child, not a witch fully in control of her Craft. Change that and maybe--

"I am so pleased to see the Dark Council has sent a representative to talk about the grievous injuries inflicted in Little Terrielle during Lady Angelline's visit." Saetan's voice floated out of his door, sharp and smooth, like a knife wrapped in silk. Karla stopped--Hell's fire, he wasn't alone. She wouldn't be able to plead her case with him if he was already speaking to someone; especially not a Dark Council representative. But she didn't have time to delay. Her portal was scheduled to arrive in minutes!

( Still, she crept closer to the doorway, no compunctions against eavesdropping. Perhaps she would hear something useful to her cause. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC=love. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Heir to the Shadows. Warning for discussion of sexual assault and violence. Sometimes c/p'ing sections of Anne Bishop's dialogue and text makes me want to cry. Part 3 of plot. Parts one and two found here.]

While the action went on inside, ( a different discussion went on just outside the compound. )

[Preplayed with the awesome endsthegame. NFB, but continued in the comments!]

The elevator they had ridden up into the building had dropped them off in, of all things, a garden, lush like a jungle. The courtyard was glassed over, keeping it moist, preventing anything from being given up to the dry desert air.

Sitting quietly on a stone chair in the middle of the garden was a tall, slender man, his skin the deep cacao brown of the upper Niger where he had been born. He had long legs, clad not in the business suit that had been the uniform of westerners for centuries now, but in the robes of a sheik. His head was not covered, however And there was no beard on his chin. Still young, and yet also now a man.

"Alai," Petra murmured, softly.

He chose that moment to turn and look at them. His brooding expression softened into a smile. But it was not the boyish grin that she had known when he bounded along the low-gravity inner corridors of Battle School. This smile had weariness in it, and old fears long mastered but still present.

( In which Petra meets an old friend, and Karla and Ben are left suspicious. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC makes the snow melt--trufax! Preplayed with the ever-amazing endsthegame and the always-enchanting momslilassassin]