notyetlegend | let's do the time warp again

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let's do the time warp again

MERIDA

COURT Seelie, neutral
INFLUENCE ★ ★ ★
TITLE Friend of the Dead, Hartslayer, Brave Heart, Lady Lioness of DunDealgan
OCCUPATION Lady of DunDealgan. archer, huntress, swordswoman
AGE 20
ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL

wings given to Angus via a boon in December 2,700
as of September 2,701 will have a ring that can teleport her to places she's been before in Seelie territory

COMMUNICATION METHODS

compass, given by Korra (sangilak) and made by Hermione (brainiest) that will give network access and point to 'home' (place/person/etc)
capable of sending correspondence via bird, mainly ravens

RESIDENCE IN 2,701 DunDealgan, south of Daonna
RESIDENCE IN 2,702 DunDealgan, south of Daonna

MAJOR EVENTS

BEAST MASTER
Due to being the only one able to get close to Cu Chulainn and calm him down while in werewolf form, locals around the area of DunDealgan start to regard Merida as a beast master of sorts. Considering how she feels about his warp spasms, she doesn't exactly like this apparent appointment but if it's to protect him from any sort of torches-and-pitchforks scenario, she'll take it on. [ ✖ ]

TRUST IN BLOOD
A search through Treun for the escaped convicts of Leathann turns into a dangerous situation. In a moment of desperation, Merida accidentally kills a convict who has the intent of doing something unsavory to her. Traumatized, it's Gilgamesh of all people who pulls her through and reassures her that she did nothing wrong. The golden king, unwittingly, earns himself her trust and loyalty.
[ ✖ ]

LADY LIONESS
The year had seen to a great deal of change in Merida. Not just in something deciding that her fate lay within the other court, but in herself and the actions that she took, in the thoughts that she processed. Some part of her became...less idealistic, as it were, more open to the idea that this was war. It had taken her just near a year in the Drabwurld to accept that as fact, that she'd only be seeing home in her dreams, and half a year later to find it in herself to move on. This land of the fae was her reality now. These were her people. And that was why she needed to protect them. [ ✖ ]

MAJOR CHANGES

SORCERESS
Merida has started to take her magical studies more seriously than before. By the end of the time skip, she should be appropriately trained in all the magics she has taken on, both fire and runic magic.

WARRIOR
Likewise, Merida has been honing her combat skills throughout the year. With a new sword from Diarmuid as of August and a new bow from Wan as of Yule, she'll feel as though she'll be better prepared for any of the future battles. Having killed her first human (accidentally), Merida starts accepting the idea that it's okay to kill people sometimes.

PLANS

co-parenting wolfhound pups with Lancer
fire magic training
shard training
become known as some kind of beast master by the locals
visit the new Barrel once a month
bandit stomping along a trade route with Korra
swan shooting competition with Gilgamesh in April
Treun tourney
Samhain
White Hart Hunt II: the Hart's Revenge

SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS
For the most of it, Merida will be working on training in both her fire magic and her shard, along with learning some runes from Lancer, when she's not taking part in any of the events happening. Gaining influence in the surrounding area. Strengthening and being able to control her magic will be one of her primary focuses. She'll also be helping out around DunDealgan since she'll feel partially responsible for everyone there, considering she's courting its Lord. Many of her efforts will be going towards building up better personal relations between DunDealgan and the natives surrounding the area.

Another thing that I have planned is for her to open up a combat school for women of either court and/or natives only, offering it as a place of refuge during times of battle, and once she's lost her idealism and become a little more war hardened, offer her students out as mercenaries. This will all take time, possibly over the course of two time skips, but ideally I'd like to start planning things out now.

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May)

EARLY MARCH - waking up in Caer Glaem
EARLY MARCH - chat with Saber
EARLY MARCH - chat with Mako
MARCH - making the fortress warm and toasty
MARCH - helping Diarmuid control his fire
MARCH - being defrosted by Gilgamesh, telling stories of the fae in exchange
MARCH - holy Lugh it's a lion
MARCH - bandit stomping with Korra
LATE MARCH - chat with Ben
LATE MARCH - the Barrel
MARCH - monthly summary
APRIL - things get frisky thanks to the harp (NSFW)
APRIL - Diarmuid's birthday at the Barrel
APRIL - breaking the harp
MAY - swan hunting competition with Gilgamesh. interruption by bandersnatch
MAY - running into Ben
MAY - monthly summary

SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug)

TREUN - spectating post tournament
TREUN - exploring the markets and drinking
TREUN - shopping and talking with Saber
TREUN - chat with Hiro
TREUN - dancing with Alyosha
JUNE - monthly summary
JULY - talking with Gilgamesh during beachdraidh
JULY - bar fight
JULY - helping Diarmuid with CSI: Daonna
JULY - reassuring Lancer and going home
AUGUST - training and talk with Diarmuid
AUGUST - to the Sunsoak Markets. Diarmuid asks an important question
AUGUST - monthly summary

FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov)

SEPTEMBER - visiting Alice
SAMHAIN - relaxing with the bae
SAMHAIN - talking with the Shuck
SAMHAIN - dancing and talks with Diarmuid
SAMHAIN - relaxing and talking with Sam
SAMHAIN - adventures in Scima with Gilgamesh
SAMHAIN - what happens in Samhain stays at Samhain
NOVEMBER - team up with Wan in Daonna
NOVEMBER - archery lessons with Wan
NOVEMBER - trouble in Treun (cw: sensitive topics)

WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb)

DECEMBER - rematch with Saber
DECEMBER - meeting Diarmuid in fox form
DECEMBER - celebrating first year anniversary with Lancer (NSFW)
JANUARY - the Barrel
FEBRUARY - the Barrel

SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr, May)

MARCH - QUEST: skeleton zombies
MARCH - post quest wind down. serious talks with Sam (cw: sensitive topics)
APRIL - Station date with Hiro
LATE APRIL - lone fox
LATE APRIL - furry time at the Barrel
MAY - stopping Alice from doing something stupid ಠ_ಠ

( codes by whambam )

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[So you won't mind if he starts really showing off and skating backwards, right? Right.

But it's odd how casually the conversation comes, between two near strangers with one in the other's arms. She is a small thing, but even huddled against him, that fire still blazes in her pouts and huffs. The bratty upstart you can't help but like anyway... is that the kind of person she was?]

So it would seem you've been here longer, seen this realm's wily ways. I imagine it must be another trick of those fickle fairy folk.

[Then again, could they pull something like this off? Maybe someone, something else was to blame.]

Six months.

[The response comes automatically, at the statement that she's been here longer. It doesn't feel that long sometimes. Sometimes it feels like longer, or shorter, depending. It must be the cold, she thinks to herself, making her this calm in the arms of someone who's pretty much a stranger, not wanting to exert the extra energy. She's small enough without giving up the last of her warmth and having to resort herself to curling closer.

Her feet cross at the ankle, tucking themselves at the arm under her knees. Something else definitely was to blame for the foul weather, and she shakes her head to confirm as such.]

I doubt either monarchy is capable of somethin' like this. There's nothin' for them to gain from it in any case.

[Winter spirits that weren't Jack were around she was sure.]

Edited 2015-03-12 21:48 (UTC)

[Six months is barely any time at all for much of anything to happen, but already Gilgamesh feels forever changed. Not as a silly girl, but as an ancient figure, and that makes it all the more embarrassing, almost, all the more jarring that such a world could have such an affect upon him in the space of a few blinks.

As for himself, he isn't sure how long it's been. It's ironic he's lost track of time, and it's strange that he's been busy enough to let it happen.]

That's right. It feels longer for human beings, doesn't it? I don't really understand that way of thinking any longer, but...

[Hop, hop, hop, from slick branch to branch. The leaps are great and powerful, but there's no bumpiness for the passenger in his arms. The ride's smooth, even if her rescuer's gone a bit distant.]

I don't really understand their way of thinking, either. Gods, and yet not. Warm, yet cold. How could such a thing ever be?

[The way he says human beings confirms what she was thinking he was, though she doesn't say it out loud. That can come at a later time. Six months already feels like she's been here for years, and idly she wonders if that's what it feels like in sidhe mounds, when travelers get trapped there like the legends say. So many years on the outside, a day on the inside or something of the like that man had told her, wasn't it?

She's known people who have been here longer, knows that there are natives who are descended from shardbearers. Time is a terrifying thing, sometimes.]

I was told tales of them as a child. Seelie an' Unseelie. Fae folk. They don't always make sense.

[Merida is thankful that the ride is smooth, a sick feeling curling in her stomach. They didn't make sense, but it wasn't like the tales lied.]

[If he could've heard her just then, he would've very much agreed—time is the most terrifying thing, ever for an immortal. Because even an immortal couldn't turn back the clock. Start over, sure, but redo? If only.

The spires of the great Citadel loom closer and closer, until Gilgamesh reaches the outermost wall, balanced upon it as comfortably as any other perch. Up he glances, to an open balcony of an open room, and grins.]

You're in luck. I recently... acquired quarters here, so you can rest for a while.

[Of course there's a catch. Gilgamesh grins like he's just caught a canary between his teeth.]

With me. In my room.

[The Citadel. She'd only seen it from a distance, a place she'd made a note to avoid for several reasons, many of them due to the fact that she still didn't feel like she belonged in the Seelie court. Merida looked over her shoulder at it, unable to help the small shiver that runs down her spine, before she hears his words. And it's such a dilemma. Warmth and four walls but putting up with him.]

Don't get any ideas.

[Her voice has a warning tone, turning her head back to look at him with fierce blue eyes, brow narrowed in a deep scowl.]

I'll break your hands if you start anythin'.

Edited 2015-03-14 07:12 (UTC)

Eh?

[Oh... right, she's referring to that sort of resting. Gilgamesh has to laugh, shaking his head down at her and skipping the rest of the way up, from stone to polished stone.]

You're not my type at all, so that's fine. They brought me more food than I could eat on my own, and it's always terrible to let such indulgences go to waste. I'll permit you a share.

[Gilgamesh doesn't seem bothered or intimidated by that sharp scowl at all. If anything, it's a confirmation she's got some fire to her. He prefers that to the alternative, to that cold winter's chill. To the Saber who isn't.

One, two, three more jumps, and he's landed upon the balcony, placing her back on her feet. Front door service! Who said he couldn't act knightly?]

[Her cheeks burn heatedly, obviously not from the cold this time, but she made her point clear, and her nails dig into his shoulder as he starts climbing, looking down at the ground. It's a long way down if he drops her, and she'd rather he didn't do that even if she did just threaten to snap his hands. The numb of the cold seemed to have started leaving her as he sets her down, and for a moment she has to lean against the wall with one arm in order to get her footing again.

Instead of collapsing like any other girl might have done, Merida keeps herself standing straight, boots tugged off by the toe as she pulls her hood down, shaking red hair out. As much as it pained her to say it...]

You have my thanks, an' my gratitude.

[For now she'd be civil, especially in another person's territory.]

[She's stubborn. But she's also tired, and it shows. Gilgamesh smiles coyly to himself and leads her on in once she's caught her breath, kneeling by the open fireplace. The room is expansive and obviously very expensive, furnished to the tastes of a lord or lady and draped in silks and satin.

Gilgamesh, being neither lord nor lady, therefore sticks out a little. But he relaxes as though it really were his own quarters, really was earned through his own merit and not just a clever moment of bullying.]

You'll dry off soon. I wouldn't venture out again until the weather abates, unless you've a death wish.

[Gilgamesh waves his hand in front of the dying fire and heats it up again, in a golden surge of energy. It roars to life and fills the room with that which Merida craves most—welcoming warmth.]

I wasn't plannin' on it.

[The warmth is certainly welcome to her cold bones. No matter how warm the heating rune made her cloak, there really was nothing like an actual fire. The hand carved cloak clasp is undone and her cloak draped near her boots, showing that she hadn't really thought out her dress.

The room makes her think of the royal rooms as she brushes her hands down her dress, looking at the way he makes the fire come to life again. It's certainly much more lavish than she's used to at the fortress, even with all the furs and blankets she needs there. Her hands retract to wrap around herself, turning around so that she's got her back to the fireplace rather than him.]

I don't fancy meetin' th' Black Shuck under other circumstances.

[With no need for heavier armor, Gilgamesh changes in a flash of magical power from gilded plate to casual attire. He curls up by the fire like a very contented cat, as he always appeared outside his armor, soaking it up and humming.

In front of her sits, and true to his word despite how close they are, he keeps his hands to himself and appears to have no interest in changing that anytime soon. He can behave, on rare occasion, even with his reputation.]

Now that I consider it, you did owe me for the rescue...

[He thinks on it, or at least makes a show of looking as if he does, then pipes up:]

Tell me of this Black Shuck! And fae folk! And other stories! And we shall consider ourselves even.

[She follows his lead and kneels, keeping her back to the fire and tucking her dress under her legs, crossing her feet at the ankle. She's unable to keep the surprise off her face as he changes out of his armor even though she's seen Lancer do similar things. Merida lets herself relish in the warmth at her back, blinking a bit as he declares it story time.

It's certainly an...odd request for a grown man. Though she does owe him for saving her, even if that had been her own folly.]

Well, if you consider th' monarchs gods, then th' Black Shuck would be one of th' higher gods. He an' his brother th' White Hart are considered death an' life respectively in this world. I have met both. Th' Shuck appears durin' Samhain, to those brave enough to call his names. Old Shadow, Black Shuck, Dog of Death. Th' Hart is hunted every year in th' winter month of Yule, one Seelie an' one Unseelie may slay him, for he is reborn after both kills.

[She tucks some hair behind an ear so it can dry out, reaching back to gather it there, and then lowering her arms again as she continues.]

I met th' Shuck an' slayed th' Hart.

Edited 2015-03-14 09:49 (UTC)

[All very useful information, which Gilgamesh is quietly grateful for. If this realm has taught him anything, it's a gentler approach to gaining information—asking rather than ordering. And what better timing than after a perfectly flawless, perfectly romantic rescue?

Black Shuck. White Hart. Old Shadow. Dog of Death. Gilgamesh seals every last title and bit of information away, settling onto his back and staring at the ceiling with arms behind his head.]

It was you, huh? It sounds pretty impressive. [Giving her a nudge with his elbow.] Well? I want that story, too. About the great hunt.

Edited (wording) 2015-03-14 21:23 (UTC)

[The nudge makes her look at him, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't like it had been particularly impressive at the time, especially because of the way she'd ultimately made the kill. By the way he says 'it was you' makes her think he's heard about the Seelie man who did it, though she does shrug that off. Instead, she tugs her legs out from under her and splays them, leaning back on her hands.]

I'd gone out earlier that month to train, when I heard about th' hunt in a town I was passin' through. My father had taught me how to hunt an' hawk since I was wee, an' I thought there would be no better way to prove my skills. [To herself, but she doesn't say that.] It took me a day or two to track him down from where I had been, weather permittin', an' I rode through th' forest, keepin' my bow ready.

[She hummed a little, sorting through her memories. Though she's discerned the time difference between the Drabwurld and her home, it still feels like it had been two years ago and not just last year.]

Although my first shot was, ah, misplaced, I gained a huntin' companion in th' Unseelie general, Saber. Th' forest went quiet, reverently so, an' we waited, listened. There was th' snap of a branch, an' I saw giant antlers, th' gleam of a white coat. Saber took th' first shot, headed him off. I went to send him off course, frighten him off into another direction where I could shoot him clearly.

He scampered, I shot, strikin' his neck. His head swung an' Angus leaped to miss his antlers, throwin' me off. [Her cheeks burned a light pink.] But I made th' kill.

[It's a good story, told from one he'd never expect it from based on strength and stature. A young woman, shirking from the cold just now, taking on such a godlike beast back then, and with...

Saber.

The fire flares up, unexpectedly, and Gilgamesh must look away for a moment. She hit a weak spot. Unwittingly, perhaps, but undoubtedly. In another world, he would've killed her in an impulsive rage just for the mention; in this one, he glares at the wall and tries to gather his composure again before speaking.

Eventually, curiosity wins out. He cannot help himself. Gilgamesh asks what he should not.]

What do you think of that woman? Of Saber.

What do I think of her?

[The sudden flare in the fire makes her wary, and she finds herself inching away from it a bit just to be on the safe side. She's not unaware of the suddenly sour air, not by a long shot, but she doesn't shrink away either. Instead, Merida grows quiet, lifting her hand and cupping it against her neck as she drew her knees up, resting her elbow on them. This could be a touchy subject, she could tell, so she steps around the subject with cautious feet.]

She's terrifyin' sometimes, if I'm honest, but I'm glad to count her among my friends rather than my enemies.

[She rests her cheek on her knees, murmuring to herself.]

Sometimes I wonder if she's disappointed in me...

More likely she's disappointed in herself.

[Gilgamesh cuts in sharply, with such authority that it's hard to deny what he's said as truth. Of course it's only a half truth, but he sounds so confident—incensed, even—that his voice crackles louder than the fire.]

I will tell you something about Saber. She is, undoubtedly, the anointed King of the beloved country. But it all fell to ruin, because there was this terrifying piece she saw within her own reflection that she could not overcome. They turned from her, those people.

[He never got the chance to see England burning. Such a pity. If he could throw her and it into the flames right now, he would.]

And she disappointed them.

[Well at least he didn't ask why she thought that, that she's grateful for. She hadn't even realized she had said it out loud. His confidence in his words makes her tilt her head to look at him, perplexed. Merida couldn't deny that what he said wasn't true - Rin had explained their world enough for her to get the general gist that Saber and the King Arthur that she grew up learning about might not be the same people. There's likely things that she doesn't know. She dropped her knees, crossing them and propping her hands into her lap.]

I don't think she disappointed them. It's just as possible they couldn't see her as herself, instead of th' king she was raised as. Rulin' is a lot of pressure, even without bein' king of a whole country.

[She shakes her head.]

I can't pretend to know Saber. Tales only say part of what actually happened. Sayin' I know her an' how she feels would be a disservice to her,

Edited 2015-03-15 19:18 (UTC)

Maybe I don't, either.

[It's a quieter confession, given without much in the way of context. Merida adds no fuel to his own fire, that rage within him incited whenever her name's invoked, so he just settles back down again. Still sour, still sore, but he does find his composure again.

Hands behind his head, Gilgamesh just stares at the ceiling, a frown creasing his lips.]

Maybe nobody does. And tales are just that, aren't they? I've heard so many things by now, what's true and what isn't... it blurs too much together. She is enigmatic that way.

[And then Gilgamesh tips his hand, unwittingly:]

And yet so terribly beautiful, I could not glance anywhere but at her, for all her suffering and woe.

[There's nothing about that that weirds Merida out. Maybe because of all the tales she's heard, or maybe because her own romance is weird in some ways. You love her, huh? She doesn't say it though, doesn't want to presume, leaning against a hand and draping the other across her lap.]

Mother says legends are lessons, that they ring with truth. I know it for fact.

[She thinks on how little they knew about Mor'du, about what really happened, the pieces she'd put together while here in the Drabwurld. She thinks about the other Heroic Spirits she knows, how she barely truly knows them. But she doesn't care. She doesn't care about Cu Chulainn's history, just him as a person. The same with Diarmuid and Saber. Just because their history made them famous didn't mean that it was really what they were like.]

There's always a fine line between what's true and what isn't. It's how this war has dragged on for so long.

[He smiles at her assertion, childlike and yet wise beyond her years at the same time. Yes, he loves her. Loves her in ways that are dangerous and obsessive, but all too true and all too real. And he would break her in ways that are permanent and lasting, piece her back together again, but this right was also stolen from him and he has yet to find a way to regain it.

Maybe they should stop talking about Saber. Maybe they should talk about another Hero she doesn't know yet.]

I heard a story, once. A legend. About a great King who lived in a sea of endless desert. But he wasn't like other kings, because he was unkind and unfair and unjust. It is said that people both loved him and loathed him. It is said that he had many enemies, but far fewer friends. It is said that he committed such sin that he was barred from both heaven and hell alike when he died.

[Where had they buried him? Gilgamesh doesn't even remember. It's painful to consider, how in the end, even he was reduced to bones and ash, scattered to the winds.]

In spite of that, I would like to meet him, and ask him where he went. If not to the gates above and the fires below, then where? Where did he go? It is said that he lost himself to the pages of history, written of only on ancient glyphs and corroded walls. How terrible it would be to die that way, one grain of sand at a time. How terrible it would be, to be forgotten by everyone.

[Heaven and hell...the places those weird cultists believed in. Somehow she gets a feeling that he's not talking about someone else, but rather himself, like Diarmuid had done before he realized she had guessed who he was. It's good that they're talking about something other than Saber though, because she felt like sooner or later she would have stepped on a trap.]

Perhaps he went to neither. [She glanced down at her gloves, tugging a little on them.] Perhaps he simply found another place and decided to explore that instead. Dyin' doesn't necessarily mean that you stop existin'.

[There's a pause.]

In my world, when we die, we become will o th' wisps. I only learned that recently, when we put an end to a demon bear that had plagued th' land since before I was born. He was a prince, one who believed that th' lands his father had passed to his brothers should be his along with his share. I saw th' regret on his face when his spirit was released, shortly before he became a wisp, an' I knew that he wasn't as cruel as th' legend had made him.

[Merida glances at him out the corner of her eye.]

I believe it takes somethin' terrible to make a person so unkind an' unjust. Perhaps this great king of yours wasn't so once upon a time, but history simply remembers him as such.

[Perhaps he went to neither. Gilgamesh's laughter nearly cracks in the middle, at that and at all of it, because it's so very true. It makes him think, do you know of my fellows? as only one who knew a Servant knew the twisted nature of their own existence. Dead, yet alive. Buried, yet transient, between worlds, summoned forever and ever for the sake of one little cup.

Gilgamesh turns on his side to look at her once her story's through, arm propped up and a bittersweet smile replacing that frown. But that might be even worse, really.]

I'm sure he'd appreciate hearing that. Even if it's just wishful thinking.

[It was the worst sort of wishful thinking—believing he was remembered outside dusty books and caves, that is.]

[The laughter kind of confirms her suspicions, but even then she doesn't say anything once again. Instead, Merida just tugs her gloves off, setting them to the side for now and keeping her hands where they were previously. There was, perhaps, just enough for her to guess that her words had hit something, somewhere that hadn't been hit before, especially with that kind of smile on his face.

It made him almost handsome.]

It's not just wishful thinkin'. [She lets her lips curl gently before she simply shrugs.] But I suppose it depends on your perspective.

[Merida pushes herself up to stand, toes wriggling as they warm through with the fire to the back of her feet now, letting her smile turn a little secretive.]

Still, I think I'm goin' to remember him now. I might not know his name, but I'm sure I'll find out somewhere at some point.

[And she's almost smiling, isn't she? Quite the change from the stubborn brat he'd spat at over the lockets. There may be more to learn on either side; there may be more to gain from her than just nasty looks.

Gilgamesh reaches out to touch her on the cheek, but it is a kind touch. It is gentle and it is as innocent from him as anything could ever be.]

Hey... you're not such a bad girl after all. But you did tell me a very good story, and I didn't mind listening to the rest, so I'll honor my word.

[Pushing himself to his feet, he gestures to the small table and chair in the corner, invitingly.]

Stay here until the storm clears. I'll have food brought. Tonight, you have earned my generosity. [Grinning just a bit.] So a certain King might declare, if he were present.

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notyetlegend - 2015-03-16 10:20 (UTC) - Expand

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