Fox Prints [open!}

[Katja]

Soft padded paws made their way through the rooms in silence. A small fennec fox darted to and fro in the shadows, searching for a place to rest for a while. In this form she felt light and free, not to mention adorable, but that was beside the point. The point was that being in this form put her in a good mood and when she was in a good mood she allowed herself to do more things than she normally would. Today she deemed herself worthy of…well a little relaxing. It wasn't often that Katja allowed herself to relax. After a dull week of doing various jobs around the court, assisting where ever she was needed, she deemed herself in need of a break. She was a little more easily irritated than normal and even she was starting get tired of her constant irritation. After all, not many could withstand her sarcastic comments. Hey truth hurts after all!

After finding herself a nice small nook to hide in, she curled her small furry body into it. Her super sized eared swiveled on top of her head listening for any who may disturb her place of rest. Using a paw to smooth down her creamy sand colored fur down, she couldn't help but reflect that being a small fennec fox had its advantages as well as its disadvantages. For one, in this form she was barely even twenty inches long and hardly weighed even one and a half pounds. This gave her a distinct advantage in being agile and incredibly fast. It was the perfect escape plan in her opinion should the need ever arise. Two, her oversized ears were like a radar for sounds. She could hear someone coming way before she could see them. Heck she could hear that annoying spider across the room. The only thing that stayed the same from her human form were her electric blue orbs. At least she’d never be mistaken for someone else while in this form.

Curling her fluffy tail around her body, Katja reflected on the past few years of her life. After joining the battle, she barely had anytime to herself. It was one battle after another and for one she was glad they all had caught a break from the fighting. Even though she never knew how the unseelie court was before she came 15 years ago, she knew it was far from healed of the chaos that had raged in the caverns for three decades. No that was something that would take time. Time she wasn't sure the court had.

It wasn't long ago that she had heard the rumors of creatures called the Drow. She didn't know much, but all she knew was that both courts had been attacked way back during a festival some odd years ago. On one hand, she really wanted to hunt these creatures down and get to the bottom of this. On the other hand, she wanted to stay and protect what remained of her court. So many decisions, so little time unfortunately. Another annoying sound made her ears twitch again, it seems another spider decided to join the first. Great, it seems it was mating season for pests. Coming out of her hole in the wall of the cavern, she began to stalk her annoyance. She moved her light frame across the ground in a nimble display of stalking, her tail swishing in anticipation. With her prize in sight she hunkered down, ready to end the annoying cretin’s life when she heard footsteps in the distance.

Sighing at her loss in fun, she quickly shifted to her 5'8 height. Her long pale golden locks swung around her hips as she turned in the direction the new comer was coming from. Then noticing her red striped shirt was in disarray, she began to fidget with her clothing. When she was satisfied that her shirt was fixed, she brushed the dirt from her dark faded jeans. Finally adjusting her black leather jacket and deeming her black fur lined boots were acceptable, she turned her vibrant electric blue orbs in the direction of the noise.

"Who comes?" Katja's lightly accented, soft and warm voice danced across the room- as if it were a caress. Her large vibrant eyes search the shadows, waiting for anything or anyone to approach her. If they didn't that was fine, but she was careful by nature and would rather be prepared than not. Especially after she fought in the war and survived it's many surprises.

[Alecto]

It was true, the court was far from healed. Fury had inhabited this place for millennia, practically since its infancy, when they fought a far more straightforward enemy. Odd, that it was the Unseelie rebellion that had brought her here, and the Sluagh rebellion that had torn her apart. It had seemed so much more honorable, then – Sidhe and Goblin Blades, rage and glory, and nearly everyone returned home when it was over. War used to be excellent sport. In those days, it would have been the insult of being kept from the fray that drove Alecto mad in her cell, not the paralyzing fear that some ill would befall her family, the horror of powerlessness...she doubted that her court would ever enjoy such nonchalance again. And if they did, it would be because they were ignorant and arrogant and doomed.

They all deserve to die.

Alecto took a long draught from the goblet she carried, her pewter lips staining so red they verged on black. The wine was a devoted companion on the rare occasions she ventured out, and the opium soothed her mind to sleep; the haze of the latter still clung to her senses imperceptibly, like she moved between a dream and reality. Fury felt the shadows shift. Her bare feet were nearly soundless on the tiled jade floor. It took a great deal of drinking to be drunk, and she was not there yet, not yet, though her blood was almost sluggish in her throat...a mamba, sated by the sun. Her sidhe aura glowed like fire.

“Who comes?”

The Denwyr rounded a corner and stopped, passing her surgical gaze over the little fae, passingly enchanted by her voice as a snake is held in thrall by a charmer. The girl was a complete stranger to her – unsurprising, with how little she socialized of late. Her eyes flashed fire, her head inclined. “Death,” she answered, and laughed. She was not joking, yet neither did she mean to imply that death had come for Katja. “Making my rounds, as I am called to do. Who stumbles into my path?” Her fingers tightened around the goblet’s stem, her tattoo tightened around her arm. The neckline of her night black dress had fallen down one shoulder almost suggestively, although it was hard to imagine the fury making any suggestions. Death does not request, after all; it demands. She took another sip, another glance, unblinking.

“I have not seen you before. Did you fight for us?

OOC note: Hey Aly, I don’t think anyone has a beetle mantel right now, and mantel species are the only critters in Alanor...might not matter here, but I wanted to make sure you knew!

Also all of my posts lately are so short. I’m sorry.

Also apparently Alecto is a tweaker now.

[Katja]

It didn't take long for Katja to see who her visitor was. A woman, sidhe obviously if the glow wasn't any indication, rounded the corner of her brief resting area. Katja would call her pretty, but judging from the aura the woman emitted deadly was probably more accurate. Her proclamation of death probably wasn't too far off, but feeling no ill intent directed towards her at the moment Katja wasn't expecting a fight...well at least as long as the woman didn't drink so much as to attack her.

"Death...? I don't know, I expected death to be...well a little bonier." A small attempt at humor, courteous of the mortals who believed death was a walking skeleton in robes that turned up at the wrong moments. Even though she knew better than that. Death could be anything you could ever dream of- a grotesque figure, a sword, a word, or even a cute and friendly face- all of which she has seen in her long yet brief life and none of which she would ever forget-or in one case forgive. Deciding she'd best introduce herself properly, she continued.

"I am Lady Katja, seeker to the unseelie court. It would not be a surprise if I seem unfamiliar to you. I have not been long in these lands. Only 15 years this year. As for the war...Aye, I did join the fight. However did we ever fight for us? Or was it for an idea?" Katja soft voice was still as warm as a summer’s night, but ended with a slight edge of bitterness. Like a hint of lightning on a fresh summer wind.

Even though she joined the unseelie in their battle- which she wasn't new to the idea, the joining of other peoples battles. She had been a mercenary for many years after all- but she still felt as if it was only a beginning. The beginning to what she didn't know and she hated unknowns. They made her anxious and when she was anxious she got irritated easily. When she got irritated, well, it wasn't pretty. Besides all of that, she had the distinct feeling that there was something going on that no one really knew about. Something that resonated in her soul and she couldn't shake the bitter taste from her mouth. Maybe it was the paranoia resonating from her childhood experiences, but she knew something foul was going to go down. She had the feeling she'd feel foolish in the end.

"There is a restlessness I feel like none before, lady death. Where it will lead us, I hope will not be destruction." Katja said softly, almost inaudibly. Much like the sliding of skin against silk.

Looking to the woman before, as beautiful as any well made sword, she could tell the war had not left this woman untouched. Whatever had befallen this woman before her, she would probably never know and mostly didn't care. This woman was merely someone she encountered, another unknown. However the scent of alcohol and the slight sweetly pungent odor of something else she couldn't really place at the moment...she also couldn't help but wonder what could have driven such an obviously powerful woman to such a state. Again she'd probably never know.


((OOC: Thank you for telling me haha. I wasn't well when I wrote it and I didn't look at the mantel list. I changed it though.

We're all getting into ours groves here again haha, besides I think mine just now is a bit off. I've never had a character interact with Alecto's, so this is going to be interesting.

Alecto is still awesome though. :3))

[Alecto]

Katja was right not to expect an attack. The Eumenides never attacked unless provoked, albeit the provocation could be indirect -- some slight against their sensibilities or their masters or their kin. To Alecto, this creature before her was kin, and there was very little she could do to incite the Fury’s malice. She took another swig, eyes narrowing at the little nimbus’ joke. It might have been funny, if it weren’t a sore subject; the forgetfulness of mankind had been the force that drove Alecto to Alanor. “In the beginning, Death was always a woman in black, with skin like twilight and eyes like embers. But humans learned to close their eyes, and imagine death was more like them...practically inanimate.” Her mouth quirked into something that was almost a smile. “Wishful thinking.”

Her steps resumed, bringing her closer to the golden nymph, obviously with curious (if dispassionate) intent. Her gaze drifted over the girl’s lovely form, appreciative but appraising, as if she were deciding if Katja could indeed be a warrior. Her chin lifted at her introduction. “I would not know you because I have been chained in the darkness for thirty years, sweet nimbus. And if you did not fight for your comrades, then you fought for the arrogance and hubris of your former King. You do not strike me as one of Cel’s puppets.” Another draught, another narrowed, thoughtful stare. If she were human, she would almost certainly be drunk. But sidhe blood could withstand all sorts of abuses. The night of her most recent arrival flashed through her mind; she wondered what kind of barbaric ritual Segwyn had performed, to ensure the seed would grow. Had he cut her open and filled her with forest loam? Had he protected himself from the chance that he would be poisoned by her, forever longing for her like an addict? That would have been an ironic turn. The Elf-Struck King of the Sluagh...

Wine burned in her throat like bile.

“The restlessness you feel could be anything, Lady Katja. The court longs for a monarch, and many strive to satisfy that desire. The Sluagh roam the wilds, and the Drow haunt the shadows. Queen Annette crows over her kills like a harpy. It is a strange time in Alanor.” She fought the strong desire to wax philosophic on the subject, proclaim all the reasons they were, in fact, headed straight into the mouth of destruction on a platter of their own making. Instead she watched the former subject of Katja’s attention, the orb-weaving spider, making its slow way along the wall. As it neared her, she reached down and plucked it from the floor. It squirmed between her thumb and index finger, waving its legs threateningly. Her tattoo slithered toward it, opened its mouth as if to lift from her skin and devour the thing entire: Cel’s mantel. There was ecstasy in the faint smile curling across her lips, as she crushed the insect and watched its insides drip down her wrist.

“Forgive me, I have been rude to you. My name is Alecto, Denwyr of this court.”

[Katja]

Watching the woman before her silently, she had caught the narrowing of her eyes. Knowing she hit a sore spot with the Denwyr, Katja couldn't help but agree with her rationale even if it was a bit different than hers. The mortals had closed themselves to what lay before them. Fear drove them to think and do irrational things. Hence why the humans in that village she had lived in so long ago murdered her friend in cold blood. If she could string their intestines across that puny village once again, she would do so with more zeal. Keeping these thoughts to herself however, Katja thought they'd be an overkill to the topic. "Indeed." Was her simple reply.

Watching the enchanting woman before her, slowly approaching her smaller form without threat, she reflected upon Alecto's comment on her imprisonment. Like a light bulb had gone off above her head, she had an inkling as to why the woman was the way she seemed to her. Katja didn't pity the woman, because she herself would have despised pity. She wouldn't insult lady deaths... circumstance in such a way. No she respected the woman for coming out of it at all. Even though she didn't pity the woman, she wasn't quite sure what to say either. Deciding not to comment on her imprisonment, unless she wished to discuss it further, her silence on the matter was probably the best comment of all- coming from her at least.

"Nay, I am no puppet of anyone. In the beginning I admit my reasons were most assuredly selfish. I fought simply because it was where my abilities were best put. It wasn't until I had taken a delight in this court that I had fought for my comrades." Truth was the best response in this instance. Katja was not ashamed of her actions and would not hide them. Some may call it foolish, but Katja really didn't care what others thought of her. She continued.

"You may be right, Lady. There is much cause for restlessness...and it may just be the call of battle that sings within my veins that tells me to watch. I agree that it is a strange time...even if it is the only time I've come to know." Still the feelings persisted, but Katja decided that the time to watch and wait had come. She would do her best to strengthen her court, but she was a warrior first and a sarcastic acidic spewing fountain second. She didn't know what she could do to help besides fight. Well besides make things worse, Katja thought humorous to herself.

Watching the spiders insides drip along the lady's wrist, a small satisfaction at the death of that annoying pest thrumming through her, Katja could help but be fascinated by the woman before her. Besides the slaugh and their cohorts being skewered on the battlefield, she really hadn't had many encounters with the sidhe of the court. Yes she had met a couple of nimbus' and garlangers of the court, but most of the time the sidhe were busy doing who knows what. Maybe it was the aura from the woman that clicked so well with her. Or the way the woman's eyes were lit a fire even in darkness. Maybe she just needed a stiff drink to straighten herself up.

"As for being rude, Denwyr, I was not offended- Thus there was no rudeness and no need to forgive." Katja's soft accented voice drifted around the room lightly. She hadn't been offended, not this time at least. Even thought she was easily irritated, this woman was not daft. Daft people tended to annoy her fast and it seemed as if there were too many of those types around. Maybe this was why this woman fascinated her, she didn't annoy her like many seemed to do these days.

[Alecto]

Alecto might have laughed if anyone had called her enchanting to her face. There was nothing lovely or inviting about the Fury – nothing soft or bright. Though she was not ugly, those who loved her had to love ugliness, because the truth is often ugly...people’s sins are ugly. The sins of the world had created and sustained her, fuel for the rage of justice. And how often was justice enchating? Appalling, maybe. Alluring in cases where the observer was fraught with deep emotional issues. Perhaps that was what Segwyn, Saalyn and Ren had in common.

The Fury did not consider any of these things, however, as the compliment was left unspoken. Instead she listened to the blue-eyed nimbus’s words, ambivalent toward her decision to fight without any understanding of the terms – a decision Alecto herself would have made in her youth, but no longer, not with what she knew now. It wasn’t worth chastising the little fae, with the fighting done, but her eyes did narrow slightly as they stared into the liquid garnet of her drink. Ignorance was everywhere. She wondered if Katja would have fought for them, if she had known what caused the war.

“The call of battle...” A sinister smile spread briefly, dissipated like a chill. “If you lust for blood so much, you should pilgrimage to the Altar of Fate. That is where we prove our swords, in Alanor, and where real glory is won. It would be a great service to our court if one of its children should win a Goblin Blade. And perhaps it will take your mind off your restlessness...” She swilled the wine in its glass, suddenly taken with a thought. Saalyn called her to bolster their ranks – what better way than with contest and sport? Many of the court’s fighters were restive now that the conflict had been resolved, and agitated warriors made poor soldiers. Striving for an Unseelie Goblin Blade would unify them, train them, and send a message to their enemies (and their potential enemies, the Shining Throng) that the Darklings had returned in force. Alecto’s head inclined, black and silver tresses falling like water over her collarbone, eyes brightening with sudden flame.

“What is it that you seek, nimbus? Fame? Rank? Fortune? What reward would call you to the barracks and keep you there?” Her question was voiced in an almost theoretical manner, though the Fury would not refuse Katja’s participation. Alecto knew nothing of this girl’s experience or prowess, but if she had the stomach for fighting, she could be taught.

[Katja]

If you lust for blood so much, you should pilgrimage to the Altar of Fate. That is where we prove our swords, in Alanor, and where real glory is won. It would be a great service to our court if one of its children should win a Goblin Blade. And perhaps it will take your mind off your restlessness...

What is it that you seek, nimbus? Fame? Rank? Fortune? What reward would call you to the barracks and keep you there?

The words echoed inside her mind. What was is that she sought for in battle? Fame? No, nothing good came from broadcasting ones battle prowess. Rank? No she could fight just as good with a sword as a low standing officer just as she could if she were promoted to a captain. She wouldn't protest a promotion, but she didn't seek it. Fortune? No, monetary gains served her no purpose. What was reason for battle? 'Katja, I'm sorry I got you into this mess...' Suddenly drawn into her past, she couldn't help but feel the same helplessness as she did on that day that Tatiana was hung before the village. Shoving the memories away she realized she had at first raised her sword in the memory of her friend for vengeance...but why did she continue after she had achieved the vengeance she sought? She had been searching for...

"Purpose. I seek purpose. Blood lust is not what keeps bringing me to the battlefield. No, I sought a purpose that even I couldn't then and still cannot fully see now." Katja frowned realizing that in all her years she had only sought a purpose- a permanent one, and then frowned harder when she suddenly realizing what had change in her in the past 15 years. She found some small part of her purpose, in fighting for what had finally become her home. "Even though I've only just come to find that I've found a small part of my purpose in defending what has become my home. Even though my actions in joining the battle were selfish and I admit ignorant, Denwyr..." Katja walked over to the glittering wall of the cave and ran her almost delicate looking hand over the sparkling surface as if stroking a lover, her face was set in a serious expression. After a brief moment of pause, Katja then turned here electric blue gaze upon Alecto and looked her in the eyes. "I will protect what is left of our court, even if it costs me everything."

She turned fully towards the deadly woman, her feet carrying her back to the other woman, her gaze never leaving the other woman. "I may be only one person, one warrior, or just maybe a fool...but I will not let what little remains crumble into nothing. If I have to I will win this goblin blade to bring a spark of hope back, then so I shall. I may not understand everything about this court and the war...and I may not always make the best of choices, but I will do this one thing right." Stopping in front of the Denwyr, Katja sighed when she realized she may have rambled a bit. Now she was annoyed at herself.

"Forgive me if I've rambled a bit Denwyr." Pausing brief tilting her head in confusion at the woman before her. "I couldn't help but wonder how far are you willing to go to protect what is yours?" Katja couldn't get the image of a slightly beaten down woman out of her head. Even though the woman wasn't quite yet drunk and not quite 'there', she could still see a spark of something. It was that same something that probably kept her here.