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Durion Caranthir

Fanya Niasa
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Everything posted by Durion Caranthir

  1. Durion Caranthir

    Fae Fury is coming......

    Stay a week…. a year… a lifetime…. choice is theirs. “Is it really?” Brow quirked upward at the man, bit of a smile creeping at the corner of his lips. The seafarer was quite the mistrustful one. Of course. I hardly have the time Mr Muireadach to be forcing anyone to do anything. I am running one of the largest companies in the world. I need people working there that want to… not ones that need to be babysat. If I decided to start forcing their hands it would all unravel. He had no need to lie to the man. For all his arrogance, the elf was typically honest in his words. I get help that can be trusted not to blow up my home…. they get a chance to get on their feet in a place where they are safe from the outside world…. “I don’t vet anyone before I bring them here, so what they do here is on you.” True, though I pity the one that decides to take advantage of my offer. I protect those in my lands. Satisfied? “No, but it’s not my choice.” The faint shrug acquiesced to the man's mistrust. There was little the elf could say to change his opinion. Time and interactions were the only things likely to sway the man. Elongated ears dipped listening to the speech given to those below, a smile ghosting across his features. The man's refusal to leave any of them here if they didn’t want to stay was the final confirmation that the elf had chosen well. This man was a leader and protector of their kind. Whether he felt he was or not. The massive avian's beak perked on the sides in a smile that almost passed for warm considering the carnivorous appendage making the gesture. He began talking to the people as they departed the ship, gesturing towards the oversized all terrain truck that easily accommodated the half dozen in the comfort of the air conditioned cab. The trek wasn’t far but it was without a road which meant walking would only delay the comfort of food, drink and a bathroom facilities that put the Ritz to shame where they could wash up and make their decisions. The elf waited for the seafarer to return and gestured to his own two person vehicle in askance if he would join him. “I’m going with. Not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust anyone until I see it with my own eyes.” Fair enough. Would like a few questions being answered about the northern lands while you come take a look. I have heard some rumors that concern me. The elf effortlessly hopped over the half door of the military grade jeep and waited for the man to make a choice. As it was, the elf wasn’t sure if the man was so paranoid he would want to join the passengers in the truck. The elf wouldn’t take offense but it would delay the answers he desperately wanted.
  2. Durion Caranthir

    Fae Fury is coming......

    The seafarer stood like a rock above his ship and yet flowed with its every move. Very elven actually. Rustle of wings told him that the caravans were on their way before the avian even mentioned it. The land quickly whispering to him the same. My crew is fine, you need to explain exactly what is going to happen here and I will transfer that information to my passengers before one person steps off my ship. After they’ve settled in, I will check in with each and make sure they want to stay or return with me. He highly doubted the crew were "fine". The journey down from the northern lands was rough going and not exactly many ports between to restock on supplies. Smirk tickled at the ageless expression. The seafarer was mistrustful still. The faint shrug clearly gave up any desire to fight with the man. Two miles inland is the halfway house. A stop over for a big meal and to learn of their options, which are two from there. Hands folded behind his back as he walked up the dock a ways, eyes peering a moment through the trees in the direction of the house before glancing back at the man perched along the rail. Well fed they may take the bus down to Rio. The city is dominated by outworlders. A bit noisy and too much….concrete…. for my taste…. Nose wrinkled a bit in his distaste before he continued with another faint shrug. …. but they can look for work there and set up a life there if that is how they want to go. No guarantee of an easy transition but at least a guarantee that they are not hunted there… not reviled. The other option is they take the truck the rest of the way into my lands deep in the jungle. There they are guaranteed a home for each family and a job to get them on their feet. It is community living… they find a role to provide to the community in addition to working for the company. Hand waved absently… Tending the garden….the animals… something of that nature. In this manner their home and food is without cost and the salary from their job they can retain for a future. Some choose to save and then move on, find a place out in the world less secluded than my lands…. some… never use the money and instead choose to remain. Ebony silk whipped sideways on the ocean breeze, a hint of a frown as there was a distinct chill in the wind. Eyes watched the northern horizon as he added.. Stay a week…. a year… a lifetime…. choice is theirs. Murmur was a bit distracted as his questions were bubbling up once more. Cerulean slid back to the man above. I get help that can be trusted not to blow up my home…. they get a chance to get on their feet in a place where they are safe from the outside world…. A bit of mirth returned to the bright eyes as the lips quirked upward on one side, head tilting slightly. Satisfied?
  3. Durion Caranthir

    Fae Fury is coming......

    There had been time for the head of Megildur to near the docks by the time the boat was being tied off at the dock by Kahird. The military grade off roader approached silently, the blue gem on the hood creating a vacuum around the engine that devoured the sound allowing travel within the jungle terrain to be lethally silent. He dominated these lands, but he also was no fool, there would come a day the fight snuck into his territory and he wasn’t sending people out advertising their presence. The Avian watched the captain with what could almost be called a smirk on his beak as feathers over the right eye quirked upward at the reference to his "boss". Durion didn’t exactly spend his time coming down to the dock for every "stray" that sought sanctuary. The man was running the biggest corporation in the world, impressive for anyone, even more so considering it was entirely owned by outworlders. “…and I will stay docked here until they’ve all gotten to see whether or not they want to stay or go.” The elf had been just in time for the last comment. Head tilted at the familiar voice, brow quirking at the captain. Now that was a surprise. He hadn't been sure he would ever see the outworlder grace his docks. Their last encounter had been…..interesting. Muireadach…. The name lilted off the tongue that could wrap far more eloquently around language than those of this world, the head of the avian snapping around clearly surprised at his bosses presence. Foot hopped up onto the dock as he nodded faintly to Kahird who had already recovered his surprise and was securing all the lines. Hands slid into the pockets of the black slacks, the lavender turtleneck and loose billow of raven hair far more casual than he had been in New York. Walking along the dock, cerulean orbs kept their watch on the captain. I was not sure I would see you down this way. NPC: Vehicles are on their way Durion… Glance over his shoulder gave a nod to the avian. Thanks Kahird. Attention went back up to the seafarer. Have food and drink for you and your crew as well as those you carry. I have a few questions about the northern territories I would like to ask you.
  4. Durion Caranthir

    Fae Fury is coming......

    Rumors aren't rumors..... Deep blue orbs flashed at her. That was not the answer he had wanted to hear. Lips pressed into a thin line as he continued to listen the tale of the cold that was creeping for his lands. White is falling from sky there..... white......cold pieces.... Snow….. It was said absently as arms crossed, finger gliding back and forth over his lower lip. His lands had been a safe haven from even the wild weather of this world. He had been in New York in the winter, it was not pleasant, it had a beauty of its own, but still was not pleasant. He didn’t like how the outside world was starting to creep up on them. It had no place here in his borders. .... coming closer too.... Nostrils huffed softly as she plucked the raw cubes of beef from the platter. Letting her chew her food as he pondered the questions he wanted answers to. As she reached for water he finally spoke. How soon for the cold to reach the northland structures? He watched her pause, impatient for the answer but not willing to snap. The bastet was loyal and kept the outlanders he brought in safe. In return he held a respect for the woman. Days….. not much more…. Scowl etched over his ageless brow just as the flicker of light caught his attention. The gem at the front of the compound pulsing softly. Unlike the outside world where humans still sought a life without magic, here they let it thrive. The gem was reacting to another some five miles away which reacted to another at the docks where his watcher must have signaled another ship coming in. More refugees coming for safety… they were early…..and now he worried how safe they really were. Frown lingered as he lifted a hand to let her know the conversation would need to wait as he padded inside to get some shoes on. He was going to head down and meet the boat. He hoped his "ferryman" had some answers about the weather. ………… Eyes peered through the spyglasses from the small house near the dock. They were not expecting another shipment of outworlders this soon. Caranthir would want to know. Taloned hand lay on the crystal to ignite the magic and signal the warning before he walked out to greet the boat. Massive brown wings barely able to fit through the door as the raptor legs moved up the wooden dock, talons ticking as he moved. The avian dockmaster didn’t pass for "human", not even as one of the "pretty" winged humans. The raptor's beak punctuating the proud feathered head above the muscular torso as he waited for the rope to help guide the boat in.
  5. Durion Caranthir

    Fae Fury is coming......

    Bare feet padded through the stone halls of his home despite the chill they were emanating. The elf had a lavender cashmere turtleneck over a pair of black slacks that kept him warm enough in the home. There had been rumors... stories... about the cold and that it was spreading from the north. He would have ignored it if not for the fact that this was the coolest his lands had been since he came to this world nearly a decade ago. Frown wrinkled the timeless brow. He had enough to worry about. The outworlders had started showing up in his territory in droves. Word had gotten out that he was offering them sanctuary and they were taking it. Problem was he only had so much security and just like with the humans, there were good and there were bad outworlders. It took time to sift out the "bad seeds" and while they were being sifted, he needed security to keep the others safe. He really didn't need an ice age to contend with now. The flutter of wings caught his attention. Ipsin was going nuts near the windows facing the north. Ay'sha must be returning. Ipsin only got that excited for the feline woman. Had to be a cat thing. Plush slippers were slid on as he trotted down the steps to the large terrace on the eastern side of his home. He detoured through the kitchen to let his den mother know to bring lunch out to the terrace and to include some barely cooked meat. Not his preference but the feline woman would be needing to refuel after her trip and he didn't want to wait for the report. If an ice age was coming, he had some outworlders that he was going to insist "repaid" some of his kindness with their abilities.
  6. Durion Caranthir

    More Elf and Fae Playmates!!

    [durion]I wanna see more elves and fae to help grow South America!!! I mean it is good to be the only really active one down there... megalomaniac that I am. I am the most important after all! But it would still be nice to have some people to push around...er... I mean to build great glory with! [/durion] Flicks long hair back behind his shoulder as poses dramatically. Elves Fae South America NARWA (my company - help me grow it!!!)
  7. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    Control was a funny thing. The boatman had been correct in that the power had been carefully controlled, plants bending to his exact commands. But the anger that had fed it had surged without his permission. As they both ended up flattened on the deck of the boat he caught the amused eye roll and could only broaden his own smile in return as the chuckle bubbled rich in his chest. Wet and flattened out on the deck of a boat was not exactly what he had planned for the day. You are the right man. You know this to be true. “No I’m not.” You are. It was said with confidence as the boatman rolled to his feel, the elf rolling fully up into a seated position, bare feet pulled up flat in front of him as his arms lightly draped over the raised knees. The man was agile, nimble on his feet. If that had not already been demonstrated, it was clearly evident as he maneuvered on the rails of his ship. “And if I’m ripped from this world tomorrow, what happens to them then? Same thing that happened to those I was responsible for in my own. Leaderless death.” When that time comes... I will find another leader. Quiet words betrayed an understanding and respect. This boatman was more than a mere sailor. Another place, another time, he had been someone that might have been doing what the elf was doing now. Hand placed on the ground beside himself to deftly push up to his own feet in the fluid motion of reeds on the wind. “I wouldn’t have let you drown you know.” Who says I would have drowned? Do I seem so inept on the water? There was a mirth in his tone as he squeezed the front of the transparent silk shirt to get some of the water from its fibers. Eyes flicked up as the man once more went overboard. Water elemental perhaps? “Towels in the apartment if you need them.” Chuckle was soft. Suits and water didn’t really mix, a towel wouldn’t do much at this point. Fingers slid over his shoulder to pull the wild plait forward to wring of its moisture. “Ocean City. Be there a bit after I drop you off. Have to find a new anchor.” Gives you some time to reconsider the request. Hips rested against the rail, arms folding over his chest as the gaze drifted to the horizon, across a vast ocean where he knew their brethren were dying every day. Ha na-ovor na gar-edraith er a rist-estent cín cuil na ceri, i-na edraith-al a guin-nith uir. His natural tongue slid like milk over butterfly wings, the cadence one that didn’t exist in this world. Very roughly translated in this vulgar tongue….. It is better to have saved one and cut short your life to do so, than to save none and live with yourself for all eternity. The eyes were still fixated on the distant horizon before the serious cerulean orbs came once more to rest on the man. I believe you were once the type of man this rung true for.
  8. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    Unclothed foot slapped down on the bare ass with enough force to leave a red blush on the nearly white flesh. You are still in my bed. Yawn expanded his lips as the elf's bare feet padded towards the open double doors that led to his bathroom. The cream silk on the bed moved, a cerulean cascade of curls emerging from the sheets to peek gray eyes up after the man as he pulled the ebony locks through his hands to one side, exposing the sinewy muscled back and dimpled cheeks. The fae might have been horribly insulted but instead the smile lit the corners of her lips before she stretched and wormed her way out of the sheets. Truth was, as insolent and dismissive a playboy as he was in the morning, the Lord of Megildur was one hell of an attentive lover in the evening. It was not the first time she had been kicked out of his bed in the morning, it wouldn’t be the last, and she was far from the only woman that shared the dismissal fate. Passing through the carved doors his dark hair shimmered with the morning sunshine as it glittered down through the glass ceiling that defied gravity, the limbs he had architected folding in beautiful sinews across the expanse to nestle the glass between the branches. Expertly cradled against the mountainside, his shower was a natural waterfall that fell through a breach in the glass ceiling. It was frigid in the winters, cold in the summers, and nirvana for the elf that was a part of nature more than the concrete jungles of man. As he stood hip deep in the stream, water cascading over his head, the sensitive ears listened to the fae vacate his bed, her lyrical hum wandering all the way out of the masterpiece that was his home. Eyes that reflected the depth of ocean waters closed as he ran his hands over the cascade of ebony on his head. She had been a distraction at best. The council had gone mad. They had their heads in the sand regarding this outworlder registration. They had decided they would stay put and offer no help to those outside their borders, nor would they bow to the registration. They were asking for war to come to their shores. Truth was a war didn’t concern the elf, it was the complete abandon of the outworlders that had yet to find their way to South America that boiled his blood. Just because they had been fortunate enough to get stranded on this world on the southern continent, didn’t give them the right to see the others as less than them. Well…..all were not as grand as him in his own eyes, but he also protected his own… something the council was SUPPOSED to be in place to do. Well the council might sit idle, but he wouldn’t. Wet strides pulled him out of the stream, robe snapped off the wall and wrapped loosely around himself as he padded through the stone hallways. If he was going to start intervening he was going to need a transporter and while Eris had proved good for hauling his cargo, he wouldn’t trust outworlders to an earthborn no matter how much he trusted already. No…. he needed an outworlder and he had heard rumors of one already doing exactly what he sought, ferrying outworlders out of harms way. They just needed a place to go. That was where the head of NARWA came in. Megildur had room for hundreds more outworlders, and the thankful tended to be loyal so it was a win-win for the elf. He needed to find that boatman. A quick call had transportation on its way. He was heading to New York. That was where the rumor came from, that was where he would poke around. It was time he took action.
  9. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    “Why are you ashamed to be angry?” I hold no shame.. The words were quiet as the breath came deeply. … most certainly not of anger. But loss of control is vulgar. It was a very elven thing to say. There were parts of his inbred heritage that he just couldn’t escape. Just as he could not escape that despite finding a home lush and green and now riddled with more "kin"… his home… his original home…. was more. The loss still evident as he spoke of his world with a distant tone that seemed to reflect back at him like a mirror from the boatman. "I moved oceans." The nod was faint but there. This strange world was so…. dead… in so many ways. It most assuredly lived, but not in the rich ways of other worlds. It was a child among the stars. Most those stranded on this world now had cultures that were older than this entire planet. Whomever it was the boatman was trying to raise on the box was either not there or ignoring him, that much was clear. Cerulean eyes blinked at the man as the sigh came and eyes met his own. He was still deciding. Deciding which way to go both on these water.. and in his life. Elegant brow quirked slightly back at the man before the anchor was let loose, the ears dipping away from the offending clank as the violent sound reverberated against the much more sensitive ear drums. The spray of words that followed were not understood but clearly not pleased by the turn of events. Lips parted but clamped shut as the boat took a sudden jerk. He knew very little about boats but he was certain whatever was coming next was not something the boatman was expecting or wanted to happen. A fact made all more evident as the man went over the edge. Blink was profound as head turned looking around the boat. He was miles from any land and not exactly an Olympic swimmer. If he had just been abandoned to his fate it was looking like a grim one. It was his turn to pepper the air with an array of vulgar expressions in a tongue this world did not understand. Hand reached over the side of the boat to call up the seaweed once more, the thick kelp weaving in tight basket to float heavy on the surface like a raft. He would just keep weaving and walk to the shore on a seaweed "boardwalk"…. only the amount of effort to do the intricate patterning was going to exhaust him long before his feet once more set foot on land. All of which passed his thoughts in a moment just before the boat took a sudden heave backwards and began to tip up on its hind end while turning. WHAT THE….. Concentration broken the few feet of "platform" loosened and began to drift away as his feet adjusted to keep his balance, elvish spewing from his lips just as the boatman launched himself up onto the deck. Shoes were kicked off, revealing sockless feet, one slapping on the wooden deck, the other against the wooden side of the cabin, clinging there like a spider able to stick to a wall as he engaged against the once living material to keep from falling over the side as the boat tipped. It happened all at once and yet in slow motion. The bright eyes drinking in the blade he instantly recognized as from another world, the snap of the cable causing a nasty repercussion as the thing flung through the air seeking blood. Like a reed the elf was already bending away when the boatman's weight hit him and they both ended up sprawled on the deck as the sound of the impact of the whip cracked against the air to flinch ears downward. The first sharp bob of the boat spraying water over the deck before returning to the gentle up and down of the waves. Blink up at the sky was thoughtful. He might have been grazed as fast as the cable snapped and he himself was incredibly fast. But the boatman had been faster, protective instinct having driven him. There was a faint tickle of a smile on his lips as he started to become aware he was quite wet now. He had chosen well. This WAS the man to help him set their kin free. As the weight rolled off him he stared at the sky, squinting up at the single spot of sun as the boatman's head hit the deck. “I think I know where the freighter is. Let’s get you to Ocean City,” Chuckle was dark under his breath as he lay there staring at the sky a moment longer before propping himself on one elbow, left leg cocking upward. There was something more natural and alluring about the elf as he lay there contemplating the boatman. Soaked gray silk clung to his body, bare feet holding a nice stain of sun as he rarely wore shoes at home, the blazer askew on his shoulders showing the lavender button-up was now virtually see-through as it clung to a fit chest and the cascades of ebony silk that had a moment before been woven together now dressed wildly around him and on the deck. The subtle grin remained. You do know, I did not need a display of talent to make a decision. Smirk betrayed he knew it had not been done to showboat but the elf too had a dark humor. He was elvish but he was also something more. His mixed blood burned a bit hotter than the proper high born of his world. Hand pushed himself back off the deck, bare feet slapping softly on the watered boards as he brushed the dripping strands back behind his shoulders before shrugging off the wet gray blazer to toss on the railing. Perhaps it would dry, perhaps not, either way he didn't want the wet burden on his own form. The lavender sleeves were unbuttoned and he began to roll them up to his elbows as he eyed the boatman. You are the right man. You know this to be true.
  10. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    “You’ve assumed everyone is lost, wants to be found, or even wants to be lumped into that category.” No…. not all are lost. I wasn’t. But so many are. Words were quiet as he stared to the southern horizon, the frown lingering. So many are and no one is caring…. no one is helping…. Why did it bother him so much. There was a time he wouldn’t have cared. Peons to be used. That had changed a year ago when one of the nameless, faceless workers of his had been dissected and left in pieces at his doorstep as a warning. That warning had been met with an all out vicious and bloody response. No one would dare cross his borders now and if they did….. they were signing their own death warrants. I offer them haven..... and a chance to feel worth again..... “By working for your business.” He didn’t miss the accusation in the words. It was a fair enough statement when one didn’t know better. Some yes… if they choose so. Others merely live on my lands, working it for their own sustenance alone. That choice is theirs… I just offer a place to escape this world. Tumucumaque National Park, the wild lands he had claimed as his own, were well over nine million acres. There was room for so much more than those he had already taken in. Room for them all to still claim their own haven and feel secluded even from eachother. “Say you did gather up all these wayward and tortured lambs, and your coffee empire is brimming with Outworlders, what’s to keep your wingless fairies and castrated centaurs from being slaughtered if the tidal wave brimming in Ireland comes crashing over you? If they can’t keep from being tortured, how will they defend themselves when the devil finally comes to their door again?” Let them COME… The venom in the tone dripped of palpable malice as the elf turned to face the man, cerulean glistening with the charge of heated power. There was a churn on the water's surface as seaweed billowed from far below the boat cresting into the light, erupting past its surface to shower the boat in drops of crystalline water as the wove together in intricate patterns, nearly boxing them in before they went limp and fell back into the waters. It was rare for the elf to lose control of himself, but the very thought that they would dare to bring the fight to his lands tripped palpable anger. Blue fell away from the stranger, as though ashamed of the display of fury, but the shoulders never slouched as he stared to the horizon once more, adjusting to the halted motion of the boat beneath his feet. “Maybe they should instead learn how to kill their attackers with a kitchen knife. If they’ve lost the ability to live openly, then they need to learn how to take it back.” The eyes were far quieter, control once again part of the more regal presence. I help them tap into what they think they have lost. They have spent so much time hiding they have suffocated what they were born with. Power blossoms where one feels safe, yet challenged. This world is not so dead as they often believe. Enalari was a good example of that. Her fae abilities were nearly nonexistent when he found her cowering from the world. Now she was a fae force to be reckoned with. “Waiting for coordinates of a recent freighter wreck in the lane, really don’t want to drag the hull,” The elf merely nodded. Accepting the statement as truth but as he turned to look at the boatman a brow lifted at the bitter expression. Had he hit a nerve? Perhaps the boatman also had not found the skill to tap into this alien world. His words of safety resonated with the elf. That is what he felt as well. They needed to learn how to be brave again, to quell their fears. "I've been flying blind out here for ten years after being ripped from a world of shores, I am still not afraid." Which is why I approach you. The fearful cannot be led, cannot be helped…. by the fearful. Breath was deep as he felt the mists of the waters on his cheek, hip resting against the rail. Shores. The boatman came from a world of waters, that is what called him. Nature. The word was softly spoken. Mine was a world of mountains and streams…lush green that shot trees hundreds of feet into the sky. It was a rare confession..... of home.
  11. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    Weight swayed almost undetectably with the waves under the boat, the silence lingering as he breathed the fresher air. The further from the smog and concrete of the city the more he felt himself, the more he could breathe. As the boatman knotted his hair up the elf thought nothing of it. His own often in intricate webbings of plaits. The plainness of the human males a concept foreign to him. The throttle of the boat shifted his gaze out to the open waters, dismissing the concrete jungle he despised. "I have no kin here." The elf was quiet at this. The cerulean gaze thoughtful as it watched the waters slap up in challenge of the movement of the vessel. It wasn’t often he was overly serious, but this endeavor, what it might mean, what he might risk for it; this he took seriously. Something in the weight of the boatman's presence told him he did as well. “I hate New Jersey, for the record. It reeks of machines and bent nature. The water groans.” Nostrils flared at the salty air with a nod before turning to sideglance at the man. I loathe all things this way. The stench of what the humans have made, of what they are so proud of, it offends the world they don’t even notice. The "arrogant" elf sounded pained. The land cried this far north and he felt he was the only one that heard it. Wind snapped the ebony silk around his shoulders. And you are wrong…..in this world that never wanted us…… we are the only kin we have….. Words were quiet as the gaze shifted again to the waters, the elegant brows dipping softly, expression distant. Lost single souls that have none but eachother. He had looked. He didn’t know why he had, no one from that world had ever done anything for him, yet he had looked just the same….. but thus far there had been none from his world but him. And it was a story he heard again and again from those he had taken into his care. They had looked, only to find none. They belonged to none anymore. That made them kin. “North, I would have more to show you but I’m not sure if I like you or your business yet, so New Jersey will have to do.” A faint grin slid over the melancholy expression as he glanced back at the boatman. And if you came down to Camopi, I could show you more…..and just what my business is. Hand slid over the snapping locks, deft fingers quickly plaiting the cascade to his hips, intricate knot at the bottom keeping it together without a band. Turning he rested a hip on the side as he looked at the man. The ghost of a frown was again over his brow as the head shook. I have in my lands… fairies that had their wings ripped off….. elves whose ears have been sliced apart…. in one of my coffee fields…. a centaur works who was castrated by those…..filthy … humans…. The disgust was palpable, as was the passion behind it. For all his arrogant elven playboy nature, this he cared very deeply about. These were his "kin"….. and he was looking for a better way to protect them. I offer them haven..... and a chance to feel worth again.....
  12. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    Elongated appendages tipped and pivoted like bat radar as he listened beyond the walls of the vessel he was currently entombed in. True to his word it seemed the boatman was looking to get rid of the snoop above. Unless he was signaling the guy in a non verbal way about the elf's presence it seemed the boatman was true to his word. The stranger was looking to "hire" the boat as well. If his little snitch was right, this was all a trap to try and expose the boatman as someone that was interfering in the outworlder backlash in Ireland and Europe. Brow quirked as the man "sold out" another boater. Now that was interesting. His Intel didn’t mention any Joe or John working a route to Ireland. Brow quirked as the form came trotting down into the belly of the beast, the shoes discarded, a habit the elf had as well, he loathed the things. But somehow he doubted his boatman was doing it to get comfortable. The brow furled as he was ordered to stay like some common human. But whatever protest was about to spew from his lips was swallowed as the form slid out a small window and vanished. No splash. Now the elf was intrigued. Walking to the small portal he glanced out in time to catch a faint shadow in the water. So the man had gone down into the water. No splash meant the water liked him. A water elemental perhaps? A male water sprite? He wasn’t familiar with any but he had met all types of strange fae and sprites from worlds not his own. Interesting. He moved in the cabin, arms folded behind his back as eyes trailed over the nautical décor. He preferred his home hewn out of nature and the mountain, but he could see the appeal of this vessel over the damn steel and concrete jungle outside the walls. Ebony curtain slid around his shoulder when he instinctively turned as the wet boatman started coming back through the window quietly. “I’ll drop you off up the coast. If you leave now, everything you’ve asked for is compromised, and they'll probably try to kill me. Sorry for the inconvenience,” Down the coast…. if you don’t mind. I have no desire to go further north when everything I seek is south. The elf didn’t seem surprised that they would move without letting him off the boat. And clearly he wasn’t protesting it either. He had a suspicion the second visitor might have "disappeared" from the dock. He just had no desire to go further into the human world and north to him always meant humans. Phone was flipped open and a quick text sent to Elanari so she wouldn’t try to come fae-dazzle the boatman, letting her know to head south that they would re-dock some ways down to not attract attention. The gentle list of the boat was easily adapted to as the phone was slid away once more, his weight swaying naturally as the arms remained folded behind his back. As the boat pulled out of the dock, he was content to sit in the silence for now. “Well Mr. Caranthir, where to?” The boat had stopped and the elf lifted a brow up at the man. He didn’t know much about this coast line. Where was that spot the iron elf had mentioned could be a pick up point for their shipments?..... Ocean City wasn’t it? Something like two hour drive from the city so likely less than an hour by boat. Feet made their way up from the cabin to join the man, ebony instantly catching on the wind to ethereally float on the ocean drifts. I would say Camopi but I don’t think that is practical at the moment. The drop point for his shipments was on the Oyapock River on the Brazil border. Likely a few days travel. While he wanted to talk to the man a while and plan, he didn’t have days to spare either. Ocean City I believe is not too far from here? Ears fluttered back with the wind, eyes on the land, hint of a frown at the distant concrete structures before turning to look at the boatman. Give us a chance to talk about helping our kin survive this world….
  13. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    He was being assessed. The cerulean gaze retaining their icy indifference as he studied the boatman in return. “I don’t smuggle, labor or goods, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m truly sorry if any passengers I’ve ferried led you to believe that. I’m not sure what could have given them that impression.” It is neither labor nor goods I seek you to handle. Nor is it smuggling. Eyes watched the ease with which the knife was utilized. A fighter. The elf was also trained but not in such mundane weapons, nor for such vulgar combat as hand to hand. He could strike an arrow through a victim's eye from further than most of these humans could see. “If you need workers, why don’t you just advertise for them and a fair wage. I’m sure people need work and would be willing to travel to assist you. I’d be happy to transport if they need it. From Ireland, New York… anywhere.” There was the faintest crinkle at the corner of ageless eyes, betraying a frown. Oh yes…. of course… why had I not thought of such a thing…. and that way they can be more easily slaughtered as they answer the ad? A stray ribbon of ebony silk was pushed back to wind behind the elongated ear as the pupils flushed in the watery abyss of vibrant irises .. As I said… I am not looking for a smuggler…. I need a rescuer. He froze, head turning slightly, the ears rotating back as he turned back to the man, words overlapping as the other seemed to already have taken notice. “You might" …you have… "want to stay here," ..company… "Outworlder,” Brow quirked as the man made his way out. So he noticed such things so easily. He was the right man. The head of Narwa needed such an outworlder to take on the burden of ferrying the others to safety. Someone that could protect them as it was the elf's experience that so many of them had not figured out how to be "powerful" in this world, living in fear and hiding. He found they were miserable at protecting their own lives. "I’ll get rid of him.” Head inclined in thanks, the elegant gesture betraying a royal lineage that he had built for himself. “Mr. Stevens,” Ears dipped, the eyes narrowing as he slid the phone from his pocket. He loathed the thing but found it a necessary evil at times. Flicking it open he pressed the speed dial for Enaleri. I' lunt adan na-or i adan o vedui aur. Ho lothron baur dambeth, ben gweri- ho na- ú- na n- telyg. Cheb-tir. ((The boatman is above with the man from yesterday. He may need rescue, or betray he is not to be trusted. Keep watch.)) Phone snapped shut as sensitive ears listened beyond the walls of the vessel. The encounter would be telling. It was very possible the elf himself could be in danger if the outworlder had sold out to the Vanguard. It was a risk he was willing to take. The need was far too great.
  14. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    “Are you following up for Mr. Stevens from yesterday?” Ebony brow quirked elegantly upward. Mr Stevens? Most assuredly not. And I would recommend caution if this was the individual that came in the late noon hour yesterday. My contact advised there was a good chance he was a Vanguard representative. It was becoming apparent the elf was no disconnected "outworlder". He waited patiently until the hazel eyes glanced back to him before offering to talk inside. Cerulean eyes did not watch the plank come down but rather the water between the boat and the dock. Something had caught attentive eyes and ears, brow quirking upward once more before letting the gaze drift back up to the boatman. Interesting. Beckoned over, the leather shoes covered the distance in just a couple strides. Hands gently clasped behind his back as he waited for the man to raise the plank, then followed him below deck. Nostrils flared at a familiar scent. His higher end line of coffee beans were percolating on the air. The harvests off his lands had distinctly rich smells and were not found elsewhere in the world that he had found. Cerulean slid over the dark woods, appreciating their exotic grain before pausing on the blades. They didn’t all have the look of weaponry made on this world. All things said the boatman was outworlder. “I don’t have free time, Mr. Caranthir. I ship things, that is my time. I picked this coffee up on a trip to South America. Wanted to see if I could actually make the trip, had a few friends that wanted to go, had some things to trade, it looked interesting. Ended up keeping it for myself… that happens sometimes. Want anything to drink, eat? I have an amazing coconut water I picked up south, Kilbeggan I picked up in Galway. Not a fan of the Kilbeggan. Anything from the Isles smells like turpentine to me.” The elf listened in silence as he took the offered seat, the eyes lightly trailing over details others missed. One's surroundings said much about the owner. “I would say then… I’m a trader of sorts. People want things, I go get them. People want to go somewhere, I take them there while delivering other things. I have a few regular routes, but mostly go where the business is. Not sure how that could be helpful to you since I'm not large enough for mass freight, but I do go where most won't, which has it's interesting applications.” Ears had dipped a little as he listened to every word. Long breath pulled at the end of the speech before the elf finally spoke. Not looking for mass freight. That I already have. Far too "visible" for the task at hand. Crystalline gaze watched the hands work the old coffee brew press. It was a much better way to create the drink than those infernal machines the earthborn were married to. The coffee you are brewing comes from my lands. I recognize its scent easily… and your "friends" now all work for me. It was why they "wanted to go" to the southern continent in the first place. It was one of them that let me know of your…. work. Head tilted as the eyes finally settled on the boatman with an unnervingly direct gaze. I am looking for someone to regularly bring more "friends" to the southern continent… specifically from the Ireland region at the moment. It hung in the air ominously. Such an expedition, particularly on a regular basis, would definitely put the one ferrying in danger. The elf was asking a lot of this "business proposition".
  15. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    The vaguely confused expression didn’t vanish, only punctuated with a faint frown as the amused smirk was not missed. Clearly there was something the elf didn’t understand as the boatman clothed himself. The nod towards the dark bumpers didn’t really clear anything up for the head of NARWA as he quirked a brow at the man. “What can I do for you.. Mr..?” …Caranthir. While the soft accent could be mistaken for many things when he normally spoke, when his own name crossed his lips the lyrical heritage that belonged only to those not of this world was betrayed…. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say was proudly on display. Cerulean watched the exchange between boatmen. Was this really the one he was looking for? Seemed so…. amiable… with these earthians. If not for the clearly unearthly writing that had been on the skin of the man, he would have serious doubts the man was outworlder at all. As it was…… Muireadach is it? The name was in the file, the lyrical pronunciation however was all his own. It had a cadence and syllable percussion like elven names, rolling easily. I have a long term business proposition for you. Head tilted slightly studying the man. One I believe you will be interested in because I have reason to believe you are already doing what I would be asking for in your free time. It was a subtle hint but yet not so subtle. The elf clearly had not gotten his information from a business deal. The original source had actually been an outworlder that this boatman had supposedly rescued. There was either truth to the story, or this man had no clue and would be a useless sell out like so many outworlders the elf had come across… groveling at the feet of the more populous of the planet. Perhaps we can talk inside? He was not risking the outside world knowing what he was doing even before it had begun.
  16. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    Nostrils huffed as the ears tuned into the surroundings. Eyes were caressing over the concrete structures that dotted the harbor and across the bay. He loathed the cold indifference of these things the earthborn seemed to treasure. There was no life in the homes they built themselves. Their cities were "dead" things. Eyes returned to the ship, ears continuing to hone in on the soft lap of water and the first breach of its surface. For all his pomp and circumstance the elf was a patient creature. He had spent a lifetime waiting for his turn to rule, to step out of the squalor he had been born into. It had taught him infinite patience…… most of the time. The drip of water off skin tilted the ears faintly down under the dark curtain. Crystalline gaze drug over skin as the man emerged over the edge of the dock. The pale ink caught the attentive eyes, tracing over the muscles as the patterns were instantly recognized as exotic writing, a fact likely lost on the ignorant earthborn. This was his boatman….. he was sure of it. “Kicking tires?” Lips parted only to close with a genuine puzzled expression. Head tilted as eyes glanced around the area looking for something before cerulean orbs came back to the man, ebony brow lifting. There are no tires….. and why would I kick it if there was one here? The simple question exposed the elf as an outworlder. He did business with the world abroad but he secluded himself in South America with other stranded races. The nuances of earth expression were lost on him unless shared by the Iron elf that ran his ore division. He came in contact with the earthborn far more than the head of NARWA. As if on cue the billow of morning breeze caught the ebony silk that hung down his shoulders, exposing the elongated ears that curled back along his skull.
  17. Durion Caranthir

    Birth of the Underground Network

    Normally he would have travelled via Eris. Woman had an air vehicle that was better suited to his status in this world. But she was an outsider and this entire endeavor was strictly for his own kind. He trusted her with his business, not his people. No earthborn could be trusted with his own. As it was he frowned at the small prop planes ragged interior as it bounced in for a less than smooth landing at the deserted Republic airport out in Long Island. It was a strip the veil crosser pilot used to stay undetected. The kid was not talkative which was something the elf appreciated, but he wasn’t the best pilot, which the elf found annoying. npc: Thanks for…. The elf half lifted his hand in dismissal of the thanks as he trotted down the two steps that fell open on the side of the plane. Lights ahead turned on to show where the car was sitting. Finally, some luxury…. thank goodness. Sliding into the leather backseat he pulled the door shut as Enaleri put the sleek Lincoln Towncar into drive, the folder passed over her shoulder to him. npc: Looks like the one we are looking for is currently docked in the harbor making repairs to his boat. Mmmm He flipped through the sparse number of pictures of the man. Didn’t look like an Outworlder but looks could be deceiving. The friendly fae at the wheel was used to his curt behavior as she continued. npc: ….looks like we are not the only ones trying to find him either. Our Crea contact thinks the ones inquiring about him may be hostile. Earthborn parasites likely…. Npc: Perhaps….. The sun was just beginning to dust the sky with dawns light as the towncar pulled in along the main dock of the harbor. npc: He might not want to be a part of it you know Durion. Her words held a humor in them as she put the car in park. The idea that anyone said no to the head of NARWA was an absurdity. Even she as a fae was drawn to the flame. More important than his charisma however, he actually protected their own, something she had seen the council didn’t seem to actually care about doing. Smirk lit his lips as he tossed the file onto the seat next to him and slid out of the car door, slamming it shut without another word. Hands slid into the pocket of the elegant Armani slacks as he strode down the dock that held the bobbing boat he had seen in the pictures at the end. The gray tone of the fashionwear beautifully framing the lavender button down underneath the blazer. It was actually a bit tamer than his usual fair, his ebony hair hung loose to flutter down at his hips as the morning breeze picked up. Cerulean orbs traced the lines of the vessel before the Ferragamo leather toe reaching out to lightly tap on the hull, "knocking" to see if the boatman was home.
  18. Durion Caranthir

    Calling all Out-Worlders!

    Have you seen the filth put out by these humans!!! http://resonancerp.com/index.php?/topic/8417-galway-initiates-out-worlder-registration/ I call for a strengthening of Fanya Niasa's alliance! We should be building a defense force! http://resonancerp.com/index.php?/page/index.html/_/factions/kotv/ It is time we found more unity and strength. I for one will not see this outrage reach our borders! OOC: Seeking Elf and Fae Out-Worlders to build up the Veil Alliance ahead of this story that is clearly building! Durion also has a new division opening in NARWA that is based in New York. Looking for Out-Worlders to help run that as well. http://resonancerp.com/index.php?/page/index.html/_/factions/kotv/corporation-narwa-r668 Message here if you are interested in being a part of all this or PM me!
  19. Durion Caranthir

    The End is Near....

    He had felt Kashmir step away. Guards had likely finally caught up to their "attack" on the council. He didn’t care. [durion]…you shut the humans out of these southern lands completely and you are asking for a war![/durion] While the head of Meglidur had absolutely no love for the humans, would be happy to watch them perish in their own ignorant blood, he was not willing to have his empire and his "people" destroyed in the process. Apparently he had touched a nerve as Huor slammed his hands on the table and stood. [npc]Perhaps it is time a war came to put these creatures back in their place![/npc] Alatariel lifted a brow now. While she was content to play politics on the Council, she herself had no desire to be a part of bloodshed. Command others to do it yes…. but she would likely find a reason to be out of the city if Huor had his war. [npc]…they wish to pass their law… we will pass our own. Our lands….our laws. Harboring a human within our territory will become a crime and….[/npc] [durion]You cannot be serious! They will come in torrential waves to obliterate us…[/durion] [npc]Let them come…[/npc] There was a dark and ominous tone in Huor's words. He was insane… but he was dead serious. [npc]You forget your place as always Durion. These lands are the only remnants of our lost worlds and I will not have the filth of humans determine we are not entitled to them.[/npc] This had taken an ill fated turn. [npc]… they hunted us because they feared us, the magic we have brought with us. They only stopped when we dominated this domain, only then did they stop pressing down into our lands.[/npc] [durion]…yes but humans still are scattered throughout all this continent Huor, this was their home before we ever arrived. You cannot just drive them out….[/durion] [npc]…watch me…[/npc] The snarl from the head of the council didn’t bode well. Rio was already predominantly elven and fae, but there were a straggling array of humans still within its walls. If Huor started down this path, Rio would be the first to have its streets run with blood. [durion]... you cannot declare war on the humans without the other council's agreement....[/durion] The smirk on the light elves lips clearly disagreed with the dark haired mogul. [npc]... you are mistaken. TIRITH![/npc] As Huor called for the guard the cerulean orbs fell to Alatariel, surely she would.... the glint of a grin on her lips and shrug told him she would not stand in Huor's way. This would not end well.....
  20. Durion Caranthir

    The End is Near....

    Nov. 27, 2019 Ears burned a blistering crimson as he strode into the old Fiocruz Moorish Pavilion. The Fanya Niasa council had taken over the structure and made it their headquarters long ago. The elegant plum pointed leather oxfords fell silently on the stone floors as the steel tips caught the sunlight that streamed through open windows of the overly carved palace. Tightly wound in his hand was the rolled up paper that had come from New York. Livid was not nearly strong enough a word to describe the elf's mood. In order to keep in touch with the world beyond his borders, he had the news delivered into Meglidur from all the major civilization outposts once a week. It was usually delayed about a month but he kept tabs on the factions and looked for the slivers of evidence of shifting powers this way. He often saw the pattern long before the media reported it. For all others might mistake the dressed up elf for frivolous, he was in fact dangerously intelligent and a connoisseur of knowledge. But while most stories had him mildly intrigued or arrogantly disdainful, this one had touched a nerve that had sent the elf into a diatribe of language unlike any the earth born folk had ever heard and headed straight for the former Rio de Janiero. Door to the back council chamber was shoved open, elf walking in as though he owned the pavilion himself. Paper was slammed down onto the elaborately carved wood table behind which two of the four council sat. Alatariel and Huor. As usual, they had not invited their fae counterparts to their little meeting. [durion]Have you seen this?[/durion] Of course they had not. They were elitist imbeciles who only played at protecting the out-worlders. They merely wanted to hold positions of power but never bothered to really learn about the world they now held that power within. His time would come. The out-worlders didn’t come to these buffoons for protection, they came to NARWA… they came to him. He offered them sanctuary and a place to work, not the stuffed up council. The only one that seemed to truly care about the alliance and what it should stand for was Nidhogg and unfortunately the lesser fae was not of a backbone to go against Huor, nor was he invited to most council decisions. Durion had no such reservations. The time would come. Soon enough he would sit at this council, he was sure of it. [npc]You are too loud Durion Caranthir.[/npc] [durion]And you are too ignorant Alatariel.[/durion] He snapped back, his elvish heritage lilting through the words. Despite what the boorish earthborn believed, elves and fae from different worlds did NOT speak the same language. They were forced to harmonize on one of the earth-tongues. He was fortunate in some ways that the council recognized too many of their own sided with this elf or he would have long ago called down their wrath and against them all, his powers would not be enough. Long finger hit the top of the story on the first page with enough force to echo the sound through the chamber. [durion]….one of the governments has passed a law forcing those not natural born of this world to register their existence…[/durion] [npc]…and this should concern us why?[/npc] Cerulean orbs glared at Huor. Arrogant bastard. [durion]…because the lands to the north are reporting their government is in support of this effort. How long do you think before they level an eye on us?[/durion] Elongated ears tipped downwards somehow managing to turn an even deeper shade of crimson.
  21. Durion Caranthir

    Escaping the Concrete Jungle

    ((ACK - so sorry! Missed that I still owed this post!)) [ishsa]You do not like me? Are you certain this is true?[/ishsa] [durion]… silly human fae-thing. I neither like nor dislike you. You are at best… [/durion] Cerulean orbs flicked over his shoulder back towards the break in the trees where the vile structures of the humans towered in angular disharmony, disgusted expression ghosting over his features. [durion]…….a distraction at the moment.[/durion] Cerulean orbs flicked to the flighty thing as she danced around once more. [ishsa] Then we must meet in the middle. You from your Light, I from Dark - in the Shadow lands of neither and both there lay enchantment. [/ishsa] Chuckle was dark as the orbs slid half closed her way, the look almost menacing. [durion]…. to meet in the middle would assume we are somehow on equal footing you silly fae-thing. And the truth is far from it.[/durion] He watched her push the stick through the snow and dirt, brow quirking as she made a circle. [ishsa] Step in. Step in… if you dare to leave your precious Light.[/ishsa] Dark chuckle bubbled up in his chest once more as head shook, the ebony silk behind his shoulders swaying on the cold wind. [durion]… you show your ignorance child of Eve. No elf worth their ears would willingly walk into a fae-drawn circle….even a human-fae drawn one.[/durion] Trees barren of leaves groaned in the shiver of night air as limbs bended unnaturally, crowding down around them in his own "circle" prison. [durion]…do the simpleton humans so blindly play with your flights of fancy?[/durion]
  22. Durion Caranthir

    Escaping the Concrete Jungle

    January 23, 2019 - 10pm He had changed since leaving ARMA headquarters. Favoring something with more movement, the elven hair had been pulled back at the top into a long braid over the open rest, elven ears proudly on display. Shirt was fitted until his hips where it split open in the front and descended to his ankles, the black lace layer allowing the crimson silk beneath to play peak-a-boo through the ebony shadows. Beneath the cascade of the shirt was black jeans that flowed over the thick soled boots that gave him a bit more height. He had been crawling out of his skin in the hotel. Kashmir had chosen one that was fancy and even their fae director was all giddy over the massive bubble tub. But the elf CEO of NARWA couldn’t stand the plasticity of it all. Surrounded by all the concrete and stone he felt disconnected from nature in a disconcerting way that only natural born elves and fae could understand. It had been Kashmir's suggestion to take a walk in central park to calm before sleep. As he sat perched in an oddly curved tree along a now overgrown path he was struck at how even nature within this city felt contrived. Blanketed in snow now it still seemed that everything was forced into place between bridges and monuments. There was some satisfaction that nature was fighting to overtake the structures that had survived the blending of worlds. But the satisfaction was tempered by the clear signs that someone was trying to tame nature still, cutting it back to allow for perky "jogging" trails and other nonsense that seemed to make humans feel "closer" to nature. Ridiculously unaware creatures. Humans sculpted through nature, around it. They didn’t understand what it was to truly "sculpt" nature. Right hand danced off to his side, glide of long fingers fluidly dancing in the air before the pearlescent blue glean rolled off his skin. The light glistened like fairy dust on the air, wisps pouring like honey off his fingertips into the two trees across from him. Despite their winter coat, the trunks seemed to grow, bending to some picture only the elf could see until they had entwined themselves into an oddly sculptural knot. Smirk ghosted on his lips, flush of crimson beginning to stain his ears as the cold nipped even at elven flesh. THAT was how one sculpted nature.
  23. Durion Caranthir

    The End is Near....

    This damn council had been nothing more than an attempt by a few to establish an elitist elven upper class on this new world. But they had found out early there was not enough willing to bow down to an upper class anymore. On the contrary. That had been when they shifted their "story" to be the council over the out-worlders to "help keep them cohesive and safe". What was it the humans said…..?......Bullshit? Yes…. It was all Bullshit. A fact very apparent as they clearly saw this news as no threat to them or those that had sought sanctuary in South America. He was vaguely aware of the Iron elf at his side trying to slow down the fire that had built in the head of Narwa. There were times the head of the Iron division could diffuse the volcano…this was not one of those times as he barged in and for all intensive purposes called the council idiots. [kashmir]If I may.[/kashmir] Cerulean snapped to him, dark brows dipped deep as if daring him to challenge his words. [kashmir] Even if you do not care about the demonization of we who are not of this world, at least respect the effect this will have on our cash flow. Not just for NARWA, but for every single business owned and operated by an off worlder. Any enterprise that does business with the humans will immediately be branded with the term "off-worlder," as though we who have given years to the betterment of this world are not entitled to be part of it. [/kashmir] The diplomat. Durion could be a dangerous diplomat. He just rarely seemed to use those great skills here with this council. There was a deep seeded loathing that had festered over decades of living under the thumb of the elven "elite". He would never bow down again. Kashmir on the other hand. It was probably for the best that the Iron elf tended to come with him when he stormed out to confront the council. It happened often and thus far, he still had not been squashed by the "elitists". He had Kashmir to thank in part for that. It also didn’t hurt that nearly 100% of Narwa's employees were outworlders and nearly all felt some loyalty to the head of the company that had given them a purpose in this world. The two elves of the council did not have nearly that sort of following…. at least….. the elf didn’t think they did. [npc]Even more reason why we should seal our borders to the north and…. [/npc] [durion]…and do what?! Hide here until our resources run out! Are you really so ignorant as to believe that medicine and particularly the anti-virals are made down here? It all comes from the north.[/durion] His snap back at Huor held venom. All out-worlders agreed that none of their worlds held anything like the three big viruses found on this world and none of them had any knowledge to create anti-virals for it. [durion]… you think when we succumb to these diseases that they will then come to our rescue? Or perhaps you are so arrogant as to think you are immune Huor?[/durion] There was a dangerous flash in the silver eyes of the head of the council. Durion was pushing his luck….. and he didn’t care.
  24. Durion Caranthir

    Escaping the Concrete Jungle

    [ishsa]The Elf…is afraid?[/ishsa] Cerulean orbs rolled . Fae were the same. Natural born, human born…. they were all the same. They manipulated and coerced in an effort to get what they wanted. It usually worked…. when it was not on someone that knew their nature as well as the master of Meglidur. [ishsa]Is he fearful that one he deems Lessor might steal his Magicks?[/ishsa] [durion]No… he is not of a mood to play magician for a child of Eve who doesn’t understand how magic exists and behaves.[/durion] Tone dripped of an adult growing weary of an incessantly questioning child. The vibrant orbs rolling again as singsong rhymes slipped her lips. How very fae of her. [ishsa]You do not play well with others. [/ishsa] [durion]I play just fine with those I like.[/durion] His easy retort came as hands continued to remain calmly clasped behind his back, steps falling in silence on the snow. Somehow even toying with the fae his foul mood had returned. He hated this city, this world of the north that wreaked of earthborn. It was a necessary evil that he did business with this world, but if it had been entirely up to him, this half of the planet would have been wiped clean from its face with the blending of worlds. [ishsa]Open yourself. You are not free.[/ishsa] The laughter bubbled up with an almost wicked tone as the cerulean gaze flicked to her. [durion]….claims the bird in a gilded cage. I am not the one so frightened to leave the dead walls within I live. I am not the one with vulgar chains around my heels begging to hear of the promised land but too frightened to step outside and look for myself. One cannot explain the light to a being that lives forever in the dark.[/durion]
  25. Durion Caranthir

    Escaping the Concrete Jungle

    [durion]…elves are not simpletons like the humans of this world silly fae-thing.[/durion] [ishsa]Do it again![/ishsa] Ebony brow quirked upward over the cerulean orbs as he continued his stride, hands still casually clasped behind his back. [durion]…nor am I a pet to be commanded.[/durion] As she finally took notice of the interwoven canopy the elf merely smirked to himself. A parlor trick compared to the monumental architecture of his home in Megildur. [ishsa]What else do you know?[/ishsa] [durion]…child….far more than I would ever show you.[/durion] While the head of NARWA was a bit of a show off, he was also an elf by nature, secretive and coveting of his power and gifts. [ishsa] Show me more of your tricks… show me how to work them. [/ishsa] The narrow of dark lashes was dangerous as he stared at the sprite. [durion]….how very human of you…[/durion] There was an unfriendly tone in the sneer as chin lifted ever so slightly studying her. [durion]To assume power is yours to take and control. Seeking to claim the birthright of others.[/durion] Nostrils snorted softly, suddenly acutely reminded that this fae was a human in disguise. What gave them the right to take what was the heritage of other worlds and creatures? It wasn’t enough that they had torn apart the fabric between worlds and stranded its people here, but they sought to rape their power as well. Of course to condemn them was hypocritical on his part. It was being ripped from his world and dropped into this one that had finally given him a place in the world that suited the hierarchy he believed he deserved. In his mind, the difference was he didn’t steal their heritage.

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    MODERN FANTASY COLLABORATIVE WRITING RP CATERING TO OLDER PLAYERS (25+) WITH A SLOWER, MORE RELAXED PACE. IN 2010, THE WORLD DRASTICALLY & PERMANENTLY CHANGED BY WHAT BECAME KNOWN AS THE MULTIVERSE RESONANCE EVENT. IN A SINGLE BREATH, OUR WORLD CROSSED WITH AN UNKNOWN NUMBER OF ALTERNATE UNIVERSES, BLEEDING INTO EACH OTHER. EARTH WAS SUDDENLY A REALM OF MAGIC AND MONSTERS. THE STORY IS CENTERED IN NEW YORK CITY BUT EXTENDS ACROSS THE WORLD. IT BLENDS A VARIETY OF GENRES; A MOSAIC OF OVERLAPPING REALMS INCLUDING ELVES, LYCANTHROPES, ALTERED HUMANS AND,OF COURSE, MAGIC.  

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