Overthrowing the Courts (IC Group RP, OPEN)

Turtle of Doom

The Monster Under Your Bed
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Fantasy, Magical, Romance, Dystopian, Religious, Post-Apocalyptic, Zombies (but the plot has to consist of more than just mindlessly murdering the undead), Steampunk
[glow=green]Overthrowing the Courts[/glow]


For thousands of years it has been this way. The Spring and Summer ruled by the Seelie Queen and her court. When her reign is up she hands over power to the Unseelie. The cycle of life and death.

The rulers are narcissists, all powerful in their own times. Always looking to expand their power-- their rule. Unfortunately, their subjects are expendable in the pursuit of added power. The trooping fae face an uncertain fate.

Since the beginning of the courts there have been members of the troop opposing their rule. A band of rogues, living outside the law. They live on the borders of Fae, whispering their ideals to whomever is willing to listen with an open mind.

The first thousand years they openly fought the rule. Lashing out at the opposing courts whenever the mood struck, and they were hunted. Hunted until half of their numbers were lost. Killed in battles where the odds were never in their favor. The smaller their community became, the smarter the rogues became.

They quieted. Silently waiting for their chance. The most opportune time to strike. At long last it is time.

The Seelie Queen plans on ruling beyond her time, even as her power wanes. The Unseelie King will be forced to act, or be seen as weak by his generals-- which is deadly in the Unseelie Court. The trooping fae clashes in the street. Chaos and turmoil rock the realm.

The time is ripe. The long forgotten rogues are gathering their strength, getting ready to strike.
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Maeve: Siren (Rogue)
Muna: Nixie (Rogue)
Ruarc: Gancanaugh (Unseelie)
Celia: Elf (Former Seelie)

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[glow=green]Basic Rules:[/glow]
No One Liners
Be Respectful to Other Characters



[glow=purple]If There are No Posts in a 24 Hour Period The Land Will Shift as Time Advances[/glow]


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The light of daybreak shone brilliantly through the canopy of branches. It was quiet out in the deep forests. Who knew how long the trees would stay this time.

A soft wind rustled Maeve's dark hair as she slung her ash bow over her left shoulder. Hunting had cleared her head, she knew it would. The impending fall showed no signs in the trees as she maneuvered through the foliage. Grinning slyly at the fist signs of the upcoming confrontations she finally made her way out of the heavy woods.

Stepping into the clearing she unloaded her kills and settled herself to the ground to clean them. She had been stocking for years, refusing to ever allow herself to be hungry-- refusing to allow her community to be hungry.

They all worked hard, pulling together when Winter's grip held the land firmly in its grasp. Food was scare then. The troop often resorted to murder when times got rough. She shook her head, grimacing at the thought of fae murdering other fae, when there was a much simpler solution.

Maeve glanced around the clearing, ensuring nobody was there to interrupt her. She loved her family of renegades dearly, but she greatly appreciated her solitude more often than not.

Absentmindedly, she began to hum as she worked. The one thing she had from her father. This single lullaby. Her mind wandered back towards the past. Before the rogues took her in. Before she could fend for herself.

Back to when she was a noble child's handmaiden, in the Seelie Palace. Maeve had once gathered the courage to speak to the queen about the problems with the troop. Back before the Queen had banished her from the court because of her mixed bloodline. The Summer bitch had laughed in her face, before having her guards drag Maeve out of the audience chamber kicking and screaming. Maeve hadn't even bothered trying to petition the Winter King, it was in his nature to encourage the natural cycle of death-- as long as it wasn't his own.

"Well," She said to herself, "Reminiscing out in the woods isn't going to feed anyone. Things will be corrected soon enough."

She rose, cleaned her skinning knife with a soft cloth, and walked on, heading home.


 
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[BCOLOR=transparent]Ruarc almost felt pity for the poor girl lying dead in the gully, her fine gold jewelry tinkling with the steady stream of clear water, the beautiful auburn ringlets of her hair collecting mud and summer salt and turning it an awful murky brown. But she had made her mistakes by venturing so deep into the forest, and so her body would burn to ash by the next morning. He hopped from the thick tree branch and walked around to to the other side of the gully, his expression unusually solemn.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He didn't often lead girls this young to their death, but she had followed willingly and had accepted her fate-- Ruarc himself was not one to tempt such a power on his own, and so she fell. His music lulled her into a hypnotic state to get her here, but she had chosen the path beside the gully. Broken her neck, poor thing. But death always seemed to be a choice among these folks.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"And another win for us. Me especially." He broke out into chiming laughter, a haunting sound that pervaded the harmonic rhythm of the forest. "Goodbye, girly. Enjoy your stay."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]And he was on his way, playing his music to the critters that stayed around to listen. [/BCOLOR]But there was a disturbance in the forest, something vaguely familiar and yet not, like a former enemy returned as something in between. Neutral. A rogue? And the smell of freshly slain meat along with it. Definitely a rogue, and much too close to his part of the woods to be comfortable. He knew of them, sure, but held no real opinion either way. A nuisance surely, but they had not brought harm upon him personally-- so who was he to care about what they did in their spare time?
 
While the sunrise was particularly beautiful, it is tinged by bloodshed and an overwhelming feeling of panic. Trying to avoid tripping over her weak feet, Muna shot through a green open field, running from the royal guards that executed her companions just an hour before. She can hear the hard THUD of their hooves as they attempt to close the distance between themselves and Muna's life force. Horrifying thoughts flood her head as she desperately tries to reach the trees. "There must be water in these trees... There has to be! I have to find water or i'm as good as dead." Muna's thoughts were not always kind, but they always help her find motivation to survive.

Just before dawn, life was so normal. Or at least that's what she thought...

Muna had no known family in the Seelie court. For as long as she could remember, she served the Royal Fae as a healer with her companions. She resided within the Seelie court gardens, surrounded by every herb and tool she needed to do her work. She and her fellow Nixies occupied the lake that stood in the middle of the closed-in foliage; Without water, Muna's life force would weaken over time and she would be unable to work her light magic as her Royal Fae commanded. Muna had always obliged, feeling a sense of worth in Her Royal Highness' eyes.


Oh, how wrong she was.

She woke that morning to a raised voice and a hectic splash. Her companion, Lithy, had returned just the night before from an important appointment of the Royal Queen's health. Muna will never know the results...The raised voice was that of Lithy, the last sound she will ever voice. By the time Muna realized what transpired, her other companions - not just Lithy - had been slain and she felt as though she had a rather large target painted on her back.

Thinking quickly, she flew out of the water and grabbed hold of a particularly springy oak branch above her head. Pulling herself up swiftly to dodge the blur of a guard that was reaching for her, she did the only thing she could think of - she climbed.

As to how exactly she scaled the court walls, she could not recall as she continued to sprint towards the tree line. "They're so close, just a bit further," thought Muna desperately as she dared not look back. Closing her eyes, she let her feet guide her until her she felt the unexpected slapping of branches across her face.

Darting through paths of forest, she kept an observant eye out for a body of water, any body of water that she could find. "As soon as I find this salvation, I will be safe and hidden," Muna said to herself quietly.

After what seemed like a lifetime, a small spring appeared on the horizon. She reached the safety of the water before she knew it and immersed herself into the healing powers of the water. Below the surface, everything was calm and beautiful - much like the sunrise she had hoped for. She always loved sunrise. Allowing her present form to dissolve, Muna breathed in the cool blue water and felt it expel through her very being. Her spirit was not as weak as she had previously thought in her panicked form.


Before she broke the surface again, she focused on a separate appearance she would take on - something her pursuers would never look for.

Enjoying the moss at the bottom of the spring, she rose from the water with turquoise curls and green eyes to mirror the spring that saved her. As she drew a breath, it caught in her throat.

Who's there? Is that... humming?
 
Maeve froze. Two splashes falling upon her highly developed ears. There were others in the forest. Unfamiliar others. Quickly she swept all evidence of her presence off the ground, and into the pack she was carrying. She growled as she wrapped the fresh kills as best she could. "Why? Of all the days, and all the times why now." She thought to herself as she scrambled up the trunk of the nearest tree.

She growled as she tied her pack precariously to a limb and hoisted herself further into the branches. "I need a vantage point. Just a bit higher, now." Her thoughts urged her higher into the branches, until they started swaying softy beneath her feet. Working her way out to the side of the tree she heard music being played skillfully below. "I knew it wasn't somebody I knew" She spat, leaning her body off the branches to get a better view of those invading her home.

She saw a dark shape, and leaned further into the open air. The branch creaked under her weight, she wouldn't dare lean out any more, but she had to see. A member of the courts this close, on the eve of their strike, wouldn't be good news. They had survived because they weren't seen.

The branch groaned louder, as she held herself over the ground.

CRACK!

The branch snapped. Her fingers grasped at the smaller branch above her she had used as a handhold, but it bent under her weight.
Her fingers slipped, betrayed by her own curiosity.


As her the last of her grip strength fled from her fingers only one thought pressed through her mind. "I can't fight if I'm hurt"

The ground came with a sickening speed. Maeve barely had time to feel the pain of her impact before the morning light faded from her vision, and she passed out.
 
His music stopped as his head swung in the direction of the snap, perking in curiosity at the heavy thud that followed close behind. Bewildered, Ruarc glanced upward at the canopy of trees above him, the thin branches that crisscrossed and sent the cascading sunlight into splintering shafts. The thin branches could bear the weight of an animal no problem, but that of a person was out of the question. Hiding, perhaps? What for?

Ruarc's flute vanished into the shadows of his cloak as he ventured towards the source of the noise and scanned the forest floor for signs of a body. A heavy thud as that would surely render whoever had fallen unconscious. And sure enough, after a minute of searching through the dense foliage, he came upon a distinctly female body laying there, and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, she was of the rogues. A siren by her aura. He tilted his head and moved closer, his golden hair falling over his eyes.

Siren's weren't fond of being poked and prodded, he knew, but resting on the forest floor at such a time was unwise. He reached out with one hand, and roughly tapped her shoulder.

"'Ey, wake up!"
 
Every fiber of her body hurt. That voice echoed in her head.
"Voice? What voice?" Her mind frighteningly screamed at her. "Open your eyes, open them, now!"
Her eyes slowly opened. Sun illuminated the blonde hair of somebody standing over her. Maeve blinked against the glare.


Her body willed itself to move, to get away, but it wouldn't respond, not so soon after that fall.

"Friend or foe?" She croaked, before clearing her throat and speaking clearer. "Friend or foe?"

She groaned in agony as she tried to squirm across the ground. Fear rose in her throat as the extent of her injuries made themselves known. "Oh gods, this is where I die..." The thought hijacked her brain before she could stop it.

 
Muna's senses were heightened as she tried to locate the source of the crashing noise. She could have sworn she heard a voice, but she couldn't be sure.

As she was silently moving through the trees, she caught a glint of gold out of the corner of her eye. She spun and noticed the glint was coming from a man. The sound of strain was too familiar to her healer ears. A voice pleading, questioning.

She took off at a run to find a confrontation between the injured and the owner of the glint of gold.

"Oi! What's going on here?"
 
Ruarc clicked his tongue and crouched beside her, sitting back on his heals. "Depends. What's your definition?" He spoke airily, in light and amused tones that treated the girl's predicament as little more than an inconvenience. For him, that is. "Not hear to heart a siren, of all things. But a rogue... now that's a totally different playing field," he said, grinning darkly. "I'm not really under any oath to make sure you're alive."

The Unseelie Court reveled in death and chaos. Ruarc was no different despite his more playful, curious nature. He messed with the order, went against expectations for the fun of it. But life and death was up to the fates, not him. Whether he helped her in anyway was out of his hands, in a sense. "Going back to your rogue camp? You do have camps, don't you?"

He tilted his head at her, suddenly solemn as he gazed upon her. "It'd be horrible if you were to be incapacitated, right in this very... unfortunate location. Very unfortunate."

Ruarc's head shot up at a second voice, looking behind himself to catch sight of the source.
 
"Unseelie. I should have known, the smell of you is over-powering." Muna felt as if confrontation was going to eat up her day. Her eyes glinted green as her temper flared.

"That siren is injured. What type of coward are you to bend the path of fate? That fall did not kill her and her pain reached a healer's ears. I suggest you step aside, mister...?"
 
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"Harsh," he breathed quietly, eyeing the newcomer with mild annoyance. "Oh yes, I know she's injured. But I do believe bending fate is... the opposite of cowardice. Who else is brave enough to face the most powerful force in the world?" It was a challenge, if anything, and he could see her fall into it. He stood and left the siren to her pain, waving his hands in a gesture for the newcomer to go ahead with whatever she came here to do.

"You're asking for a name? Call me Ruarc. This is my portion of the woods, or so I will now claim." Ruarc snickered brushed his hair out of his eyes for a second time. "Do rogues bear names? Or do they simply wear unimportant, hollow titles?"
 
"Do I seem like a rogue? That's new." Muna said, dismissing the request for a name. She approached the rogue siren, keeping her eyes on the golden Unseelie.

As she examined the injured woman, Muna spoke again. "I have seen enough fae killings for one day. Rogue or not, this woman will be saved. Do not interfere." She let her aura glow brighter than normal to show Ruarc that despite his presence, she was not intimidated.

She determined that the siren had a serious concussion. Surveying the area, she noticed the herbs and flowers she needed were close by. She gathered them quickly, piled the ingredients on a piece of tree bark and plucked a strand of her new turquoise hair. Waving her hands slowly above, she allowed her spirit to touch each ingredient separately. Her blue aura swarmed each piece, binding them into a thick paste.

Taking a glob of ointment, she smeared a thick line on the siren's cheeks and collarbones, placed a dab between her eyes and proceeded to blow softly so that it would dry.

"It won't be long now."
 
His arms folded across his chest as he watched her through half-lidded eyes. "Are you not? I figured rogues stick together-- seeing as they so often pass through here..." And while he hadn't assumed the two had come here together, it wasn't so far fetched to believe that they had initially come from the same place, was it? "You care for a stranger so much? Why? She's not your problem, you could be on your way and things would happen naturally and as they were meant to. No interference is necessary."

It was safe to say that Ruarc was befuddled with this kind of behavior, a behavior he understood but didn't care to express. It wasn't his job, and it wasn't his problem. "Ah yes, smear who knows what all over the poor siren's face. This will surely help her. You are a master of medicine, all awards go to you." Ruarc rolled his eyes at the blatant sarcasm in his own voice.

"Do you mind music? Because I think I'll play."
 
Maeve groaned. Something was on her face. She moved her arm to wipe it off, but became to distracted by the lack of pain.
"Why don't I hurt?" The words came out before she could stop them.


She glanced around. A golden haired gancanaugh began to play music, and a green eyed nixie stood over her, blowing on her face.
"Oh gods," She groaned. This day had just gone from bad to worse.


Gingerly, she pulled herself up to a sitting position.
"Well, at least the nixie is useful" She thought.


She pulled her bow off her shoulder, and tossed the snapped wood to the ground. This was not her day. If this was her luck, Maeve might reconsider advising against their strike. The fates were twisted, and today she was the butt of their practical joke.
 
"Play your music elsewhere if you hope to stay off the bottom of the river, Ruarc." Muna had had enough of pompous fae questioning her existence.

"As it happens, I was in the Seelie garden before the sun rose. I now find myself a lone target, wondering what the fuck is happening to the kingdom. I have spent my life curing royalty of illness. I can easily save or kill with a single strand; which I decide to do depends solely on circumstance."

Returning her attention to the siren, she checked her limbs and looked into her eyes. "You are okay now. That must have been some fall. Don't mind my friend here, he was just leaving."
 
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"And you? Will you be leaving, as well?" Her voice was harsher than she intended it.

Pulling herself to her feet, Maeve looked between the two intruders.
"You both need to leave." She said as she stretched her limbs. "Better yet, I'll leave"


She glanced up at the tree. "Shit," she thought, "I'm going to have to go back up."

Grimacing she pulled herself back into the lower branches and pulled her weakened body into the trees. Luckily, the nixie knew what she was doing, and gradually Maeve felt her muscles returning to their full strength. Soon enough she was crawling back through the branches like she had only a few hours before.

Maeve untied her pack and without sparing a glance back at the strangers, hopped to the nearest tree. She continued from tree to tree, finding sturdy branches to support her, as she made her way through the forest. She dared not lead either of them straight back to her community. She leaped in random directions, not caring where she went, only trying to put some distance between them.
 
Ruarc snorted in contempt. "Leaving? I had no such intentions. My forest, my home. I'll stay here until the day the world destroys itself. And even then, I doubt I'll be going anywhere." He may have been entitled, conceited or rude, but he knew his place-- and this was it. He wasn't leaving a place he considered his home away from home! "Agh, sickening. You rogues and Seelie folk, invading my land then demanding that I leave."

He glared at the siren and nixie, then in one single movement, had perched himself firmly on the thickest and lowest branch on the nearest tree. "I know this forest, I know where you go. The trees are gossipers and the animals tell lies, but there's always a glimmer of truth in their words."
 
"You're welcome!" Muna yelled after the woman sarcastically. She was extremely irritated with the sudden departure.

Turning to Ruarc, she attempted to keep a level voice. "Congratulations on having a whole forest as your own personal home. It seems that if I go back home, they'll serve my head to the Queen. Having been brought up in the Seelie court, I lack the skills necessary to interact with Unseelie and Rogues alike."

As Muna started to depart, she turned to look at the man with golden hair. "My name is Muna." She continued to walk in the opposite direction.
 
Maeve watched from the treetops. Not a normal spot for a Siren, but one she had grown accustomed to over the years. She watched the Nixie carefully. That one didn't seem to be a danger. "A healer would be welcome." She thought quietly to herself. The Nixie seemed spirited, she had a deep fire in her, which was unusual for a water fae.

The Unseelie male was still lurking down there, she'd never be able to speak to the Nixie, not without alerting the other one.
 
"Lucky would be an understatement. It is much better than either court."

Ruarc cocked his head to one side. "The good Queen is not so good, is she?" He watched the nixie from his perch through narrowed green eyes, the golden hoops in his right ear tinkling against each other with each movement of his head. "Muna. What a name, a very nice name that reminds me of the moon. Luna would fit better, but I don't get to choose the names of others, now do I?"

He craned his neck so that he caught the subtle shifts in the wind, listening to the voices of the trees and searching for the other female. She'd wandered off without so much as a thank you to the other fae. Not that he cared, but propriety.
 
Muna scoffed at the pompous fae in his perch and left him there to wonder about her name.

As she walked, Muna couldn't shake the feeling that she was still being watched. Were those guard dogs from the palace trained to sniff her in a different form? No, she thought to herself. That's impossible - I shed every piece of pore and hair of that other form.

She decided she needed to find a larger body of water to rest in. Paying more attention to where her feet were taking her, she started to take note of the flora surrounding her. While she felt relieved that there were plenty of edible plants, she felt concern that medicinal material was becoming more scarce as she continued to her wayward journey.

"Perhaps there will be more useful herbs when I find more water," She muttered to herself as she continued on her journey.