"Good idea... though if it cannot cross running water, then how shall we get it to the island in the first place?... wait... I've got it!" It stands up suddenly, having an idea. "If we could find a suitably-powerful user of cryomancy, we could create an ice bridge to the island, lure the beast there, and thaw the bridge behind it!"
The pumpkin vines wither and die as Julius stands up, his candlelight eyes flickering. “That would work- perhaps a winter fey! I’ve… felt their chill recently, and I know they will likely arrive en masse with the winter.”
"Yes, that would work wonderfully! It shouldn't be too difficult to earn their aid either, given that trapping such a powerful, ravenous creature would be beneficial to us all." It agrees, before it thinks of something else. "What could possibly lure it there, though?"
He’s silent for a few more moments, looking down. He sighs, and so do the trees, the grass, the small crackling flames, and the very sky itself. “I can. I tell it that the deal is off, and it will try to kill me.”
"...I see. Be careful, then. It has the Frenzied Flame as part of itself- it will try to hunt you to the ends of the realm." It seems genuinely concerned.
He nods. He seems terrified of the idea, though he’s trying to hide it. “I… think I can outrun it. and I can fly, anyways… it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine…” he looks back up to Ghoulianth. “So… we have a plan. Now we just need a winter fey…”
It's silent for a while, thinking to itself. "...I've heard whispers that the Sugar Plum Court is making their way into the realm. Perhaps their queen can help us- she would certainly be strong enough to create the necessary bridge."
“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
Piecemeal looks up, his frenzied eyes barely focused. "Ah! Augustus! Did you notice how impatient the Winter Court has grown? I thought Autumn should have a proper sendoff, you know?" He cackles. Even the crackling of the multicolored flames sounds melodic through his mask. It takes a moment to recognize this little almost-strugel. This being is a member of the Sugar Plum Court, or more accurately, one of the beings they send out to make their Wild Hunts more challenging. Not a knight, but a gladiator filled with disdain for its own court.
He can't recall this one's name.
"Who can say when Dying is Dead? The temperature may have dropped by I've yet to see the cemetery." The beating of his cloak's wings seem to fan the flames hire and great sparks shaped like autumn leaves shoot into the sky. "What news do you bring from the Sugar Plum Court?"
"Isn't my presence a message enough, your Majesty?" He laughs, shuffling his wooden clogs. "Sugar Plums love winter... and I came to take back my names. Their seven best hunters will be arriving. I don't know what they're hunting, but given their appetites, this won't be pretty." He throws off layers of furs, letting them fall into the flames and revealing his cold iron studs and buzz saws he's made and/or collected. "I'm here to... set things right, you could say. Not that the Green Fairy has any idea I'm doing this."
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"...I see. Be careful, then. It has the Frenzied Flame as part of itself- it will try to hunt you to the ends of the realm." It seems genuinely concerned.
He nods. He seems terrified of the idea, though he’s trying to hide it. “I… think I can outrun it. and I can fly, anyways… it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine…” he looks back up to Ghoulianth. “So… we have a plan. Now we just need a winter fey…”
It's silent for a while, thinking to itself. "...I've heard whispers that the Sugar Plum Court is making their way into the realm. Perhaps their queen can help us- she would certainly be strong enough to create the necessary bridge."
“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
"...Unless you had a better candidate in mind?" It asks, looking back at him with its many flower heads.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The little masked monster practically skates down the side of the tower, sending ash and sparks flying. He lands beside her. "You've done wonderfully. Mother Moth and the Groundskeeper helped a lot as well, but I'm the most proud of you. Even for bonfires, this one stands as an impressive piece of art in both scale and beauty, and most of that came from your knowledge and skill."
She seems surprised at his words. "Really?... Thank you. I'm honored that I could help make something so beautiful." She responds, absolute glee on her face as she watches the shimmering flames, but there's also a hint of... pain?
He tugs off his gloves and puts them on her. His hands are stitched and mismatched, disparate parts held together with butcher's twine in a way that makes them look almost normal when simple leather-wrapped silhouettes, but not anymore. "Hey. What's wrong? If you're upset, you can tell me."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"...I see. Be careful, then. It has the Frenzied Flame as part of itself- it will try to hunt you to the ends of the realm." It seems genuinely concerned.
He nods. He seems terrified of the idea, though he’s trying to hide it. “I… think I can outrun it. and I can fly, anyways… it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine…” he looks back up to Ghoulianth. “So… we have a plan. Now we just need a winter fey…”
It's silent for a while, thinking to itself. "...I've heard whispers that the Sugar Plum Court is making their way into the realm. Perhaps their queen can help us- she would certainly be strong enough to create the necessary bridge."
“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
"...Unless you had a better candidate in mind?" It asks, looking back at him with its many flower heads.
The little masked monster practically skates down the side of the tower, sending ash and sparks flying. He lands beside her. "You've done wonderfully. Mother Moth and the Groundskeeper helped a lot as well, but I'm the most proud of you. Even for bonfires, this one stands as an impressive piece of art in both scale and beauty, and most of that came from your knowledge and skill."
She seems surprised at his words. "Really?... Thank you. I'm honored that I could help make something so beautiful." She responds, absolute glee on her face as she watches the shimmering flames, but there's also a hint of... pain?
He tugs off his gloves and puts them on her. His hands are stitched and mismatched, disparate parts held together with butcher's twine in a way that makes them look almost normal when simple leather-wrapped silhouettes, but not anymore. "Hey. What's wrong? If you're upset, you can tell me."
She winces slightly as he places the gloves on her hands- as he does, he can tell that their hands have painful-looking rashes on them. From where she touched the cold iron saws while sharpening them. "Nothing's wrong... I think."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
It's silent for a while, thinking to itself. "...I've heard whispers that the Sugar Plum Court is making their way into the realm. Perhaps their queen can help us- she would certainly be strong enough to create the necessary bridge."
“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
"...Unless you had a better candidate in mind?" It asks, looking back at him with its many flower heads.
He sighs again. “I don’t.”
It seems content, standing up and getting ready to set off on its own meandering feasting. "It seems we have a plan, then. After this is all over and the curse is trapped, we can get back to our previous squabbles."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
It's silent for a while, thinking to itself. "...I've heard whispers that the Sugar Plum Court is making their way into the realm. Perhaps their queen can help us- she would certainly be strong enough to create the necessary bridge."
“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
"...Unless you had a better candidate in mind?" It asks, looking back at him with its many flower heads.
He sighs again. “I don’t.”
It seems content, standing up and getting ready to set off on its own meandering feasting. "It seems we have a plan, then. After this is all over and the curse is trapped, we can get back to our previous squabbles."
He nods. “Thank you for being cooperative. I was prepared to have to try and kill you…”
Piecemeal looks up, his frenzied eyes barely focused. "Ah! Augustus! Did you notice how impatient the Winter Court has grown? I thought Autumn should have a proper sendoff, you know?" He cackles. Even the crackling of the multicolored flames sounds melodic through his mask. It takes a moment to recognize this little almost-strugel. This being is a member of the Sugar Plum Court, or more accurately, one of the beings they send out to make their Wild Hunts more challenging. Not a knight, but a gladiator filled with disdain for its own court.
He can't recall this one's name.
"Who can say when Dying is Dead? The temperature may have dropped by I've yet to see the cemetery." The beating of his cloak's wings seem to fan the flames hire and great sparks shaped like autumn leaves shoot into the sky. "What news do you bring from the Sugar Plum Court?"
"Isn't my presence a message enough, your Majesty?" He laughs, shuffling his wooden clogs. "Sugar Plums love winter... and I came to take back my names. Their seven best hunters will be arriving. I don't know what they're hunting, but given their appetites, this won't be pretty." He throws off layers of furs, letting them fall into the flames and revealing his cold iron studs and buzz saws he's made and/or collected. "I'm here to... set things right, you could say. Not that the Green Fairy has any idea I'm doing this."
"So you play the Herald of the Hunt. My Country is a grand hunting ground and I rarely keep hounds from my hollers. But my Country is already under a gruesome onslaught and my patience is thin. Warn your hunters that if they lose my favor, I won't hesitate to remove my welcome." Despite the glow from his pumpkin face, the ghastly grin of the mask looks especially dark as he makes his declaration. "Now what makes you think I hold your names?"
It's silent for a while, thinking to itself. "...I've heard whispers that the Sugar Plum Court is making their way into the realm. Perhaps their queen can help us- she would certainly be strong enough to create the necessary bridge."
“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
"...Unless you had a better candidate in mind?" It asks, looking back at him with its many flower heads.
He sighs again. “I don’t.”
It seems content, standing up and getting ready to set off on its own meandering feasting. "It seems we have a plan, then. After this is all over and the curse is trapped, we can get back to our previous squabbles."
He nods. “Thank you for being cooperative. I was prepared to have to try and kill you…”
"Thank you for being cooperative as well- I was prepared to try and flee." It chuckles a bit to itself, the small fires around them dimming briefly.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He tugs off his gloves and puts them on her. His hands are stitched and mismatched, disparate parts held together with butcher's twine in a way that makes them look almost normal when simple leather-wrapped silhouettes, but not anymore. "Hey. What's wrong? If you're upset, you can tell me."
She winces slightly as he places the gloves on her hands- as he does, he can tell that their hands have painful-looking rashes on them. From where she touched the cold iron saws while sharpening them. "Nothing's wrong... I think."
The leather of the gloves seems to be medicated, secreting painkillers and ointment, which, judging by the state of his own appendages, seems completely necessary. "You are hurt. You shouldn't handle cold iron anymore. You're too fey for it already."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He tugs off his gloves and puts them on her. His hands are stitched and mismatched, disparate parts held together with butcher's twine in a way that makes them look almost normal when simple leather-wrapped silhouettes, but not anymore. "Hey. What's wrong? If you're upset, you can tell me."
She winces slightly as he places the gloves on her hands- as he does, he can tell that their hands have painful-looking rashes on them. From where she touched the cold iron saws while sharpening them. "Nothing's wrong... I think."
The leather of the gloves seems to be medicated, secreting painkillers and ointment, which, judging by the state of his own appendages, seems completely necessary. "You are hurt. You shouldn't handle cold iron anymore. You're too fey for it already."
The medicated gloves seem to quickly help with her pain. Now that the pain's subsided, confusion takes its place. "...What do you mean? I only have a bit of fey magic... this shouldn't be hurting me. I'm human... r- right?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Isn't my presence a message enough, your Majesty?" He laughs, shuffling his wooden clogs. "Sugar Plums love winter... and I came to take back my names. Their seven best hunters will be arriving. I don't know what they're hunting, but given their appetites, this won't be pretty." He throws off layers of furs, letting them fall into the flames and revealing his cold iron studs and buzz saws he's made and/or collected. "I'm here to... set things right, you could say. Not that the Green Fairy has any idea I'm doing this."
"So you play the Herald of the Hunt. My Country is a grand hunting ground and I rarely keep hounds from my hollers. But my Country is already under a gruesome onslaught and my patience is thin. Warn your hunters that if they lose my favor, I won't hesitate to remove my welcome." Despite the glow from his pumpkin face, the ghastly grin of the mask looks especially dark as he makes his declaration. "Now what makes you think I hold your names?"
"Oh, I doubt you do. The hunters, however, almost assuredly carry at least one altogether. So I'm going to kill them as they arrive and take back my identities and memories. Sounds like an amazing plan to me... if I had the stopping power to take them down. Cold iron is no excuse for poor training, as you no doubt learned from a hundred battles won against my fellow disgruntled mortals."
He chuckles. "Most of your defenses have fallen ill or asleep. Revoke your welcome if you desire, it won't help until spring rolls around, and I hope to be long gone by then. After all, I'm here to make corpses, not a home for myself"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
It's silent for a while, thinking to itself. "...I've heard whispers that the Sugar Plum Court is making their way into the realm. Perhaps their queen can help us- she would certainly be strong enough to create the necessary bridge."
“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
"...Unless you had a better candidate in mind?" It asks, looking back at him with its many flower heads.
He sighs again. “I don’t.”
It seems content, standing up and getting ready to set off on its own meandering feasting. "It seems we have a plan, then. After this is all over and the curse is trapped, we can get back to our previous squabbles."
He nods. “Thank you for being cooperative. I was prepared to have to try and kill you…”
"Thank you for being cooperative as well- I was prepared to try and flee." It chuckles a bit to itself, the small fires around them dimming briefly.
He chuckles a bit as well, which sounds sort of like crackling flame.
”i… should get going, to contact the sugarplum Queen-… or another suitable cryomancer.”
*I suddenly feel like writing a whole lot of lore revolving around fey- but I’m not sure what. A long time ago I wrote down the specific process of creating a Vorpal sword, perhaps I could do something similar for the only other weapon that can kill a Bandersnatch- the Winxy Pistol.*
*or I could try to develop a new court… or make a new member of one of the seasonal courts…*
The leather of the gloves seems to be medicated, secreting painkillers and ointment, which, judging by the state of his own appendages, seems completely necessary. "You are hurt. You shouldn't handle cold iron anymore. You're too fey for it already."
The medicated gloves seem to quickly help with her pain. Now that the pain's subsided, confusion takes its place. "...What do you mean? I only have a bit of fey magic... this shouldn't be hurting me. I'm human... r- right?"
"I believe... that's a question for Mother Moth. But until you have a diagnosis, I'm going to take precautions to keep you safe." He wraps another pelt around her shoulders, adding to her fluffy cocoon.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"So you play the Herald of the Hunt. My Country is a grand hunting ground and I rarely keep hounds from my hollers. But my Country is already under a gruesome onslaught and my patience is thin. Warn your hunters that if they lose my favor, I won't hesitate to remove my welcome." Despite the glow from his pumpkin face, the ghastly grin of the mask looks especially dark as he makes his declaration. "Now what makes you think I hold your names?"
"Oh, I doubt you do. The hunters, however, almost assuredly carry at least one altogether. So I'm going to kill them as they arrive and take back my identities and memories. Sounds like an amazing plan to me... if I had the stopping power to take them down. Cold iron is no excuse for poor training, as you no doubt learned from a hundred battles won against my fellow disgruntled mortals."
He chuckles. "Most of your defenses have fallen ill or asleep. Revoke your welcome if you desire, it won't help until spring rolls around, and I hope to be long gone by then. After all, I'm here to make corpses, not a home for myself"
"If spring ever blooms in these fields it'll be because my dead body lies under them. You take my hospitality lightly but every unwelcome minute in my halls and hills is sure to be an agony for the trespasser." He circles around your tower slowly as he speaks, "What do you need to slay these name-bearing hunters? Perhaps I can provide from my plenty..."
*I suddenly feel like writing a whole lot of lore revolving around fey- but I’m not sure what. A long time ago I wrote down the specific process of creating a Vorpal sword, perhaps I could do something similar for the only other weapon that can kill a Bandersnatch- the Winxy Pistol.*
*or I could try to develop a new court… or make a new member of one of the seasonal courts…*
*I would love for you to make a member of the Sugarplum Court, if that interests you*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I suddenly feel like writing a whole lot of lore revolving around fey- but I’m not sure what. A long time ago I wrote down the specific process of creating a Vorpal sword, perhaps I could do something similar for the only other weapon that can kill a Bandersnatch- the Winxy Pistol.*
*or I could try to develop a new court… or make a new member of one of the seasonal courts…*
*The other courts could use some fleshing out. I'd also love to see another real member of the Autumn Court. I think there are maybe about three that are active right now if you count the King but there must be more.*
*I suddenly feel like writing a whole lot of lore revolving around fey- but I’m not sure what. A long time ago I wrote down the specific process of creating a Vorpal sword, perhaps I could do something similar for the only other weapon that can kill a Bandersnatch- the Winxy Pistol.*
*or I could try to develop a new court… or make a new member of one of the seasonal courts…*
*I would love for you to make a member of the Sugarplum Court, if that interests you*
*oh, oh yes, oh absolutely.*
*their main thing (besides all being despicably evil ballerinas or something) is making modifications to bodies, right? (Be it their own or mortal bodies?)*
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“Sugarplum court?…” he frowns, remembering something. “I mean… if we have no other options…”
"Isn't my presence a message enough, your Majesty?" He laughs, shuffling his wooden clogs. "Sugar Plums love winter... and I came to take back my names. Their seven best hunters will be arriving. I don't know what they're hunting, but given their appetites, this won't be pretty." He throws off layers of furs, letting them fall into the flames and revealing his cold iron studs and buzz saws he's made and/or collected. "I'm here to... set things right, you could say. Not that the Green Fairy has any idea I'm doing this."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"...Unless you had a better candidate in mind?" It asks, looking back at him with its many flower heads.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He tugs off his gloves and puts them on her. His hands are stitched and mismatched, disparate parts held together with butcher's twine in a way that makes them look almost normal when simple leather-wrapped silhouettes, but not anymore. "Hey. What's wrong? If you're upset, you can tell me."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He sighs again. “I don’t.”
She winces slightly as he places the gloves on her hands- as he does, he can tell that their hands have painful-looking rashes on them. From where she touched the cold iron saws while sharpening them. "Nothing's wrong... I think."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
It seems content, standing up and getting ready to set off on its own meandering feasting. "It seems we have a plan, then. After this is all over and the curse is trapped, we can get back to our previous squabbles."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He nods. “Thank you for being cooperative. I was prepared to have to try and kill you…”
"So you play the Herald of the Hunt. My Country is a grand hunting ground and I rarely keep hounds from my hollers. But my Country is already under a gruesome onslaught and my patience is thin. Warn your hunters that if they lose my favor, I won't hesitate to remove my welcome." Despite the glow from his pumpkin face, the ghastly grin of the mask looks especially dark as he makes his declaration. "Now what makes you think I hold your names?"
"Thank you for being cooperative as well- I was prepared to try and flee." It chuckles a bit to itself, the small fires around them dimming briefly.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The leather of the gloves seems to be medicated, secreting painkillers and ointment, which, judging by the state of his own appendages, seems completely necessary. "You are hurt. You shouldn't handle cold iron anymore. You're too fey for it already."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The medicated gloves seem to quickly help with her pain. Now that the pain's subsided, confusion takes its place. "...What do you mean? I only have a bit of fey magic... this shouldn't be hurting me. I'm human... r- right?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Oh, I doubt you do. The hunters, however, almost assuredly carry at least one altogether. So I'm going to kill them as they arrive and take back my identities and memories. Sounds like an amazing plan to me... if I had the stopping power to take them down. Cold iron is no excuse for poor training, as you no doubt learned from a hundred battles won against my fellow disgruntled mortals."
He chuckles. "Most of your defenses have fallen ill or asleep. Revoke your welcome if you desire, it won't help until spring rolls around, and I hope to be long gone by then. After all, I'm here to make corpses, not a home for myself"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He chuckles a bit as well, which sounds sort of like crackling flame.
”i… should get going, to contact the sugarplum Queen-… or another suitable cryomancer.”
*I suddenly feel like writing a whole lot of lore revolving around fey- but I’m not sure what. A long time ago I wrote down the specific process of creating a Vorpal sword, perhaps I could do something similar for the only other weapon that can kill a Bandersnatch- the Winxy Pistol.*
*or I could try to develop a new court… or make a new member of one of the seasonal courts…*
"I believe... that's a question for Mother Moth. But until you have a diagnosis, I'm going to take precautions to keep you safe." He wraps another pelt around her shoulders, adding to her fluffy cocoon.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"If spring ever blooms in these fields it'll be because my dead body lies under them. You take my hospitality lightly but every unwelcome minute in my halls and hills is sure to be an agony for the trespasser." He circles around your tower slowly as he speaks, "What do you need to slay these name-bearing hunters? Perhaps I can provide from my plenty..."
*I would love for you to make a member of the Sugarplum Court, if that interests you*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*The other courts could use some fleshing out. I'd also love to see another real member of the Autumn Court. I think there are maybe about three that are active right now if you count the King but there must be more.*
*oh, oh yes, oh absolutely.*
*their main thing (besides all being despicably evil ballerinas or something) is making modifications to bodies, right? (Be it their own or mortal bodies?)*