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Post by Uriel on Jan 25, 2022 21:16:21 GMT -8
The Queen frowned slightly—perhaps a little disappointed that she didn't have an excuse to Dive.
"Probably 'the blood of traitors' or something ridiculous and esoteric," she muttered, "It's never something cool like a dragon." The blade was sheathed, rippling from view. From what she had seen, it didn't make much of a difference when it came to the Sentinel behaving, but Solomon was due for a haircut anyway.
Her head cocked as she considered the question, finally shrugging, "...Maybe a few years? I find execution and duels to the death a rare order of business on my schedule. Two Civil Wars is enough for my lifetime."
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Post by Wayland on Jan 25, 2022 21:39:31 GMT -8
Two civil wars? Wayland really needs to get educated about the Freehold's history, since the ones in charge are also the ones who have been influenced by it so greatly. She clears her throat, aiming for levity as she says aside, "Well to be clear, as much as I'd like to help, I'm not volunteering for that part," her lips twist in a small smirk. Maybe she should've said 'I'm not falling on that sword?' Nah, too much.
"But... I mean, I'm blooded. It happens. I claimed a trophy during the Ashen Hunt." Her expression becomes serious again, eyes narrowing in thought. "I guess I'm wondering... haven't there been opportunities, other than that? Justified uses of force, to protect the Freehold." The phrase 'justified uses of force' leaves a bad taste in her mouth. Gets her thinking about police and extrajudicial killings... and the extrajudicial killing she might find herself subject to if anyone found out about her bargain with a Huntsman. Maybe it's a good sign Uriel hasn't been running around feeding her sword at every opportunity.
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Post by Uriel on Jan 29, 2022 11:21:44 GMT -8
"That's fine, I'll avoid fighting Ogres when I can," she sniffed.
The Queen's eyes wandered back to Wayland as she asked an honest question. "Of course. I just don't do it." The Beast blinked, questioning if that were an obvious answer now that it had been put to her. "An entire Entitlement was founded on that precept, when we are faced with titans of the Wyrd, or those who break under the strain of their trials and require that necessary mercy, lest we unleash them on mortality because we don't want to deal with it. I am not part of that Entitlement."
Uriel scoffed through clenched teeth—other Freeholds have the luxury of banishment as common practice. What if the likes of the She-Wolf were to act on her deadly impulses, and be asked to simply take her quirks elsewhere?
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Post by Wayland on Jan 29, 2022 14:32:20 GMT -8
The silence stretches for a moment. Wayland finds her set-aside beer, lifting it to her lips for a long pull. Eyes distant, thinking, thinking hard. A number of things occur to her to say. Questions to ask. Solutions to propose. ‘Why not?’ and ‘Are you sure you want to keep the sword?’ and ‘So let’s find a foe for you to slay,’ and more. At several points her mouth opens as if to speak, but then she shuts it, thinking better of it. Finally, after a beat of stillness, her eyes slide back towards Uriel’s face.
“So… what do you want to have happen here?”
She’s told Uriel what she can do. What it would take to mend or alter the blade. The rest is just about what path the Queen is willing to walk. It’s not Wayland’s decision to make.
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Post by Uriel on Feb 2, 2022 21:01:41 GMT -8
"I suppose I'll just have to personally execute someone," Uriel stated bluntly.
She was aware of the burgeoning issues of Summer's untapped Wrath, and this was just another sign of the times. She ran her thumb and forefinger along her jaw, staring towards the future, "...And continue doing so lest the crown grows cold as well. My my, isn't this the ultimate irony to my hubris. I suppose God does have a sense of humour, or at least the one I currently bend the knee to."
She didn't sound excited, sad, or scared.
Just tired.
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Post by Wayland on Feb 2, 2022 22:42:01 GMT -8
The Ogre’s blood goes cold. For a moment she sees herself at the mercy of Queen Uriel, her deception revealed, her crime unforgiven, that living blade’s eyes fixed on her and finding her wanting one last time as it arcs towards her neck. Execution. Her mouth works faster than her brain. “Som-”
Her brain catches like an engine’s gears suddenly grinding together, and she chokes on her own words. She covers her mouth and coughs into her first for a moment, bending slightly as she tries to clear her throat, and taking another swig of beer as she tries to recover.
“Blah,” she says after a moment, shaking her head. “Uh… sorry. Uhm, I was gonna say that… something tells me you’ll have the opportunity.” She lowers the beer bottle and glances aside at Uriel. “After all, we know there’s a fight coming…”
She sets down her bottle again, taking a long beat to think, before she asks “You mean Summer?” when the talk turns to a God to which Uriel bends the knee.
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Post by Uriel on Feb 5, 2022 19:30:03 GMT -8
Uriel watched Wayland struggle with...something...
"Well, in the meantime, I'd rather it not stab members of the court," she sniffed. Her mind already seemed moving to how and when to time a raiding party, and whether it was necessary to upend a volatile territory to look for crimes that would have flown under the radar. Reserved action had put her in this position of instability in the first place, causing the butterfly to twitch and flit with the agitation to move.
"Its better than the alternative," she laughed in answer to Wayland's question. "And It's the current determiner of my fortune, dominating my lived experience."
She tilted her head, not wishing to cut the Ogre off, but she was getting the sense that Wayland was approaching her limits of royal interruptions.
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Post by Wayland on Feb 5, 2022 21:33:38 GMT -8
Hearing Uriel laugh stuns Wayland in a different way. A softer way, brief, but somehow a smile works its way into her lips again. It’s small and hesitant, like she doesn’t know she’s doing it, but it’s also completely genuine. “Heh,” Wayland chuckles in response, “Yeah, I suppose I can see what you mean.” Her eyes go to Uriel’s mantle, searching through it for a moment for the phantom image of her crown, out of season though it is.
“I don’t think our Court is very good at… resting idle. Wrath without direction is anger, right? And anger is toxic.” She shrugs. That concept is a common talking point of Summer philosophy, one which the Queen hardly needs Wayland to remind her of. “I’m thankful for the Wards that protect us here in Vegas, but we’re the Court of fighting back, aren’t we? That’s part of the nature of Summer. I don’t think that’s something that can be set aside just because the Enemy’s not knocking at our door.
“... Though this time they are knocking on our door,” she admits quietly.
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Post by Uriel on Feb 6, 2022 16:55:07 GMT -8
The crown was a ring of light, like a sunburst or a saint's aura with writhing licks of flame.
"Indra used to manufacture crusades," Uriel explained with a shrug, "Where Goblin strongholds were wiped off the map to assist other Freeholds and empire his regime. We travelled a lot and would pick up new blood on our tours. I have a suspicion Sunset Canyon wouldn't have grown to the monolith that it is without competition in the surrounding region being annihilated. We'll need something else, I think."
She nodded to Wayland's voiced warning, thinking for a spell before she tossed the beer bottle in the trash and stood by the door. Her lips quirked,
"They only knock during Autumn."
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