.027 [[ Voice /Video ]]

[sunwell_eyes]

[A calm winter day. Soft snow. Duibhín sighs softly, and the communicator might take in the faint sounds of his feet crunching through snow, pausing now and then, presumably as he picks an herb along the way.]

You know...I had not thought I would spend a second Winterveil here.

[His voice is deceptively calm, as if he doesn't want to betray too

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[audio]

[bloodforlight]

Oh, by the Light...

[Her response is not quite as panicked as one would expect, is it? Her voice is more exasperated than anything else. And that's because:]

It just wouldn't be Winter Veil if you didn't get hauled off by a pack of men, would it?

[There is a trace of urgency there, however, and the familiar sound of metal as she startes to move. A door is slammed shut, feet crunch in the snow.]

Hold on, Duibhin.

[Even if you can't hear her, you idiot.]

[ACTION]

[sdrawkcabsllort]

[Karkat has taken to storming around the place searching for a way out. It just so happens that his furious footsteps take him to a scene rather reminiscent of one of his weirder romance movies. The hero(ine) getting stolen by a group of rough thugs, only for the hero(ine) to leap in and save the day, then followed by a steamy bout of are-they-matesprit-are-they-not, then some scenes that almost show the buckets...

He stares for a moment, kind of transfixed.

Then he remembers that these aren't just rough thugs; they're fae. And what had tried to kill him recently? A fae. And what were his sickles right now? Sickles, actually, but he was pretty stoked at the prospect of burying them into random faeflesh.]

Hey, fuckers. Remember me? You pretended to be my lusus.

[He throws HOMES SMELL YA LATER at the nearest Satyr, already pulling out the Clawsickle to start slashing at another one.]

[ACTION]

[sunwell_eyes]

[The group turn as one, eying Karkat with greedy, appraising eyes, obviously spoiling for a fight. The one holding the Elf stays back while two others edge forward. Normally cowardly, he's only one being, and they seem smug they can handle him.]

[ACTION]

[sdrawkcabsllort]

[The young troll bares his sharp teeth in an evil smirk. It's been a while since he's had a brawl, and he's been itching to bury his sickles into something. Saving the fleshy elf thing wasn't actually that important to him.

He pulls out the Regisickle and, two-handed, runs into the group of them. He swoops low, sickles outwards, as if to bury them into the legs of the satyrs.]

[ACTION]

[bloodforlight]

[And light spiders out across the ground as if it were molten gold, splashing through the undergrowth and glimmering, bright in the dappled murk of the forest. There's a cry ripped from a throat, harsh and angry, but it belongs neither to the troll, the mage, nor the satyr.

Aureln crashes through shield first, slamming it into the closest fae and bringing her sword up to fend off the next. Charging in almost blind is what she's used to when dealing with the likes of Duibhin - and as their attention turns to her, her own gaze sweeps over to meet that of her friend's, sharp, commanding as her voice is.]

Do something!

[Or be a damsel forever.

There's another, near blinding flash, light bouncing off her shield and forward.]

[unholy_rebirth]

[dskjfjkds oh dammit.]

Duibhin! No!

[DONT RAPE MY BABY]

[audio]

[shamanisticrage]

[The orc's voice emerges as a low rumble.]

Hands off the elf!

[vecdjve]

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