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Manic Pixie Dream Girls [IC]


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"Juju sense? Radioactive playing card? I see."

Gabriel was astute enough to tell Jack was likely putting at least some truth in his "origin story", cheeky method or no. He shrugged, then blinked at Nick's origin.

"That's...hm. Well Nick, I think you can beat us for "most extreme origin". And yeah, I bet we can get you excused. Though..."

He pushed off the wall and paced a bit.

"Is this it? I mean, what do we do with the faerie women here? And what about whoever sent them? Won't they just send more? Shouldn't we confront this at the source?"

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After Nick mentioned the specifics his origin, 'Detective Colby' grew very quiet. "I died, too; I guess it's more common in our circle than I thought." She bowed her head. "I was alone in an alley and I froze to death, although I didn't know it at the time. And then I woke up like this-" She held up her hand and her claws came out. "My soul, spirit, whatever you wanna call it, wrapped in glamour. But my body, or at least what's left of it, lies buried in an unmarked grave in Avalon."

Looking at the others present, she suddenly flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Is this it? I mean, what do we do with the faerie women here? And what about whoever sent them? Won't they just send more? Shouldn't we confront this at the source?"

At Gabriel's suggesion, she nodded vigorously and pointed at the evangelistic hero. "I like that idea, let's do that thing."

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Jack gave his diminutive teammate a reassuring bump with his shoulder, his expression flickering with concern until he schooled it into a light-hearted amusement once again. "Eh, I got all my major organs ruptured by a giant demon 'til I died one time," he chimed in with a nonchalant shrug, "but then time travel made it all better. Well, except for the hellfire thing." Turning his attention back to Lynn, he winced slightly. "Sorry about all that, again, by the way." At Gabriel's suggestion he raised both thumbs and pointed his index finger at the white robed man jauntily. "Storm the castle, nice."

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"So, it's agreed," Nick said. "We're going to go into Faerie and kick a major noble's ass. Just give me some time to get some stuff ready. I can meet you guys after my shift's over. In the meantime, we should probably get these ladies to Eldrich -- he's good at sorting out incidents like this -- and the essence back to the donors. Meet me back at the warehouse at 9 PM; bring warm clothing, food, and flashlights."

---

Several hours later...

Night had truly fallen at this point, leaving only the hydroponic lamps to provide any light in the now abandoned warehouse. Nick had managed to cover his lost time from work under the auspices of "providing an expert witness account to the FCPD"; with the testimony of Grimalkin and Gabriel, he probably could've gotten the rest of the night off and a bonus to boot. After some fumbling in the darkness, he finally managed to find the lights. When they came up, it revealed a sort of desolation that someone had desperately tried to make into a vision out of a fairy tale. After the others showed up, he stepped to the edge of the fairy ring.

"You guys may have some knowledge of Faerie, in one way or another," he said. "But a refresher, just in case. We are about to enter Unseelie territory, which means we're about to enter a court with the magnitude of Versailles, the warmth of liquid nitrogen, and the backstabbing of that clique you really hated in high school. Backbiting and humiliation is the order of the day in Winter, so we may have grounds for shorting the Lady -- but we'd better be damn sure we can make our explanation stick, as these guys have a weird sense of loyalty. They want to be the one who drives the knife into their friend's back, and they can easily turn on any outsiders.

"Outside of that, we've got the standard field rules for Faerie. Never accept anything anyone offers you -- food, drink, warmth, sex, power, etc. This will be taken as a bargain, and they can and very well may demand everything down to your firstborn as payment. If you have to strike a bargain, strike first and make sure you're the one in control of the terms -- and always, always check for loopholes." He stopped to catch his breath. "I think that's it. Anything else?"

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Gabriel nodded as Nick handed out advice; he'd had some grasp of the "ground rules" for such a venture, but it was still good to have a refresher course. He glanced at his thick overcoat and slightly warmer version of his outfit; flying at high speeds in a Freedom City winter meant one had to dress warmly.

"Well. Once we're in there, and we've gotten an audience with somebody important...what then? I mean, I've had a chance to calm down a bit since the fight earlier. And I'm pretty sure even a heaping helping of righteous anger won't stop all of the Unseelie realm. So, do we have a rapid exit strategy? And an idea for a way to bend the situation to our favor? Beyond making a Queen of the Fae look stupid and silly in front of her peers."

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Grimalkin was in her normal fighting duds, which didn't look very warm but cold hadn't been an issue for a long time; she was reflexively extended and retracting her claws as she stared at the ground. "My experiences in Faerie have taught me that you really can't plan for much of anything, other than not to trust your senses. Last time I was there, I was a cat." She shrugged. "So just be ready for anything, I guess."

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Nick nodded. "I defer to the expert," he said. "That being said, just keep your eyes open and your pockets guarded. We're about to go through the looking glass." He ran his hand through the fairy ring; he felt cold on the other side, and to everyone else, the hand seemed to disappear to the other side. "Good, they left it open. Right this way, please."

Nick stepped through; his footing almost gave out on the other side, but he quickly managed to stabilize himself. The ground beneath him was in a state of permafrost, coated over with a clear, thin layer of ice. Looming, barren oaks and briar bushes thick with brush surrounded the path, shadows filling whatever gaps lay in the foliage. In the distance, through a gap in the winding forest, a large village could be seen. Pastoral cottages and stately homes alike clustered around a frosty square, hanging with bright lights that seemed to provide no warmth. Above the village, on a hill on snow, stood the grandiose offspring of Versailles and a castle, seemingly carved entirely from ice.

"...yeah, I'd say that's Winter territory," Nick said as he trudged down the path. "Nice imagery, too. Recalls a simpler time, when there was no such as the middle class. I can understand why this is the Queen's territory. Hell, for all we know, that could be a Potemkin village."

As the group got closer, it was clear it was not. All sorts of fae mingled in the courtyard of the small village, though it appeared clear that the lords and ladies of the various sidhe were keeping their distance from the common fae. Dwarves and trolls worked at anvils and cold flames, pounding brass and silver arms and armor. Goblins hocked wares in the streets. Things that went from birds to squirrels to men danced from rooftop to alleyway. Two hulking trolls in silver plate stood at the gates to the village, carrying halberds the size of lamp posts.

"Welcome to Windhearth, her Queen's seat," said one of the trolls. "If you are here on matter of trade, court, or redress, please produce the proper letters. If you are here on matter of visitation, please produce the proper payment. If you are -- "

"Cut it, Icehorn," said the other one. He was pointing a finger at Grimalkin. "It's her." He gave a gracious nod to Grimalkin. "Welcome back to Windhearth, my lady. How may we assist you on your visit?"

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Following Nick through, Jack nimbly kept his feet under him, but tugged at his greatcoat against the sudden chill. The energy manipulator had to close his eyes for a few moments, grimacing as he adjusted to being completely surrounded by magic. The sensation was so deafening that he almost didn't register when the first of the trolls addressed the group. Shaking his head roughly to clear it, he rubbed the back of his head as the second imposing guard showed deference to his teammate. "Well, look at you, all respectable and such," he noted quietly, with a small smirk.

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"Cut it, Icehorn," said the other one. He was pointing a finger at Grimalkin. "It's her." He gave a gracious nod to Grimalkin. "Welcome back to Windhearth, my lady. How may we assist you on your visit?"

At first, Grim was more than a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. "Uh, sure..." However she quickly realized she was in a rather unusual position, and would have to be a fool not to take advantage of it. With a regal wave of her hand, she adopted a more highborn appearance which she hoped looked Winter Court-y, laying the glamour on fairly thick for good measure. When she spoke, her voice dripped icy contempt.

"I wish to speak with your mistress about affairs in the mortal world; please take us to her at once."

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Gabriel, his white clothes almost shining brighter with all the light reflected from the snow all around them, stepped up to stand next to Grimalkin. He had an easy-going smile on his face, and his whole being radiated a sense of "this guy is a decent fellow". It would be hard not to like one such as he!

"Good sirs. You clearly have a keen sense for your own duty. To expand a bit upon my lovely companion's words, we approach the Queen with intent to speak with her about matters of redress, which may in time also affect matters of court. Our business is somewhat urgent, but we of course understand surprise visits present difficulty. If at all possible, we'd like to meet with her when she is able."

He gave a slight bow, trying to play himself off as a courtier of Grimalkin. Internally, he was on high alert; he trusted no one here but the heroes he entered this realm with.

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"The Queen of Air and Darkness doesn't often take visitors without advance --"

"But we'll make an exception in this case," said the other troll. "Forgive Icehorn, he recently transferred in from the fields. If you will follow me, I will take you to the halls of Windhearth. There, you shall await an audience with the Queen."

The troll led the group up the winding hills and streets of the small village. Nick kept his eyes to the shadowed alleys of the village, noticing things lurking in the darkest parts. I guess I should be glad we've got an escort, he thought to himself.

The massive doors of Windhearth were carved from solid black ice, wrought through with carvings of thorns and blades. The troll knocked his massive halberd against the door. "Visitors for the Queen."

The doors opened, revealing a tall, willowy sidhe lord clad in blacks and seafoam greens, bearing a rapier carved for crystal at his side. His expression warmed slightly when he saw Grimalkin. "If you will follow me, mistress," he said, leading the group forward.

The antechamber they arrived at was the size of a quonset hut, painted with murals depicting Seelie against Unseelie, Summer against Winter, in politics, in splendor, and in open warfare. Food and drink was laid out at massive tables, the scent wafting through the room and drifting into Nick's nostrils. It took all his willpower not to reach for one of the pastries. He distracted himself by looking the majordomo in the eyes. "Is your Queen busy on the throne, I take it?"

"She is addressing matters of the kingdom, yes. May I ask the purpose of your visit?"

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"Hey, just doing your job, amitire?" Jack grinned easily to the less accommodating troll. If the others had adopted a polite, courtly manner, the swashbuckler took the role of the hired muscle commiserating with his fellow foot soldiers. "They don't put just anybody on guard duty, I'll bet. I like the halberds, by the way. Those standard issue? I'm more of a sword guy, like my mobility, but if you've already got the reach and leverage, might as well use it, definitely..." He chattered away amiably, his posture looking for all the world like he was taking a leisurely stroll. "Ooh, hey, crystal rapier, that's more my speed," he whispered to the hulking guards as they were introduced to the majordomo. "Heh, try affording that on an enlisted man's salary, huh?"

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As they were led through Hogsmeade - er, Windhearth, Grim cooly looked down her nose at all she surveyed, but inside her mind was racing. She had never faced the Queen of Winter, yet the Queen of Summer had said the icy monarch was somehow responsible for the strange transformation that had so completely changed her life all those years ago. Perhaps she would find some answers this day? The deferential attitude she was seeing certainly said a lot, but what exactly did it mean?

She also thought back to the chant the five sisters were reciting when they came upon them:

"Of mortal life comes the clay. What shall we make of it?"

"I shall make a key, to pick the crystalline bonds of our lady."

"I shall make a shield, to weather her from the blows of her spiteful liege."

"I shall make a bridge, to carry her fickle glamour to new firmament."

"I shall make a sword, for her to pierce the hearts of her enemies."

"And I shall make a crown, for her to reign over..."

The more she thought about it, the clearer the situation seemed to become; she just hoped she'd reached the right conclusions.

"She is addressing matters of the kingdom, yes. May I ask the purpose of your visit?"

Lifting her head, the Jewish ninja princess offered a cool reply. "We wish to warn her highness of schemes and foul treachery being conducted in the mortal realm, away from her sight, of an ungrateful subject who plots to make a faerie kingdom beyond the veil, or so it would seem."

Somewhere inside her shell of glamour, Lynn's mortal soul squeaked at the sound of her own voice.

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Gabriel remained silent during their trip into Windhearth, trying to maintain an aloof presence that matched Grimalkin's. He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, working to appear as something of an aide-de-camp to Lady Grimalkin.

"Indeed. These plots may bring threat to the realm from all corners. You should impart all due haste as you explain the reason for this visit."

He glowered faintly at the Sidhe lord, not really trying to cower him, but merely to establish the severity of their task and presence.

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The majordomo gave a curt nod. "I shall deliver word to the Queen with all haste," he said. He turned and quickly strode out of the main hall, the great doors slamming behind him. His footsteps quickly trailed off, leaving the heroes alone. In the silence, Nick took another look at the murals, which depicted in equal detail both the battles between Seelie and Unseelie and the aftermath of some of those matches. Nick winced at a few of them. "I'll say this for their artists," he said as he scanned the path of what seemed like a tribute march following Unseelie victory, ""they're certainly... detailed."

The doors at the end of the room slowly creaked open again... and quick as lightning, a carpet of ice rolled across the floor, sliding under the hero's feet. Nick tried to gain his balance, but ended up falling right on his back. As he fought off the pain, he raised his head... only to see a woman with skin the color of milk, the face of an angel, and eyes like a blizzard walking into the room. She wore a padded medieval-style dress, covered by a jerkin of dark blue leather, and was flanked at her sides by three men in armor carved from dark ice, carrying sabers rimed with frost.

"The Queen is busy," said the Lady of Beautiful Torment. "I'm afraid your message might not read her - the majordomo had a minor accident reaching her. My handmaidens contacted me before their attempt at the ritual, and my steed brought back word of interlopers. And now here they are, right at my doorstep. You've spared me a great deal of trouble." Daggers of ice formed in her hands. "Hopefully that provides some satisfaction in your last moments."

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Grim heard the faint crackle of ice just in time to leap clear and cling to the wall, her regal gown melting away as her fighting leathers reappeared. The Lady's haughty demeanor screamed out for mockery, so she fired the opening shot, confidant that Jack would deliver the really good stuff.

"Yay, we finally meet the Great White Hag herself! Le Belle Dame Sans a Tan and her posse of ice elves!"

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The Lady of Beautiful Torment stared at Grimalkin, then raised her hands. Her knights glanced towards her briefly, awaiting word. "Take her aides," she said. "I shall take her." The knights moved out onto the icy floor, their footing steady and sure as if they had crawled across ice as toddlers. Nick and Gabriel saw their sabers -- sharpened silver that was free of any nick or scar, covered with frost that seemed to burn with the passing light. Without a word, the knights drove down their sabers. One blade went right through the shoulder of Nick's jacket, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. The wound burned where it struck, but it didn't feel like it had hit anything serious.

"Nice popsicles," he said. "How long do you have to keep those in the freezer to get the proper burn?"

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"I shall take her."

The changeling grinned a feral grin. "It's nice to be wanted." She then sprang off the wall with a burst of speed, nimbly ran across the ice as if it was the firmest ground, and then her claws were out as she took a swipe at the lady!

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"Oh, dear impertinent child," said the Lady as she nimbly dodged Grimalkin's blow, "you know how to use words like a blade. A clumsy, rusted one, but one that would cut nonetheless. To think, in another time, we might have been close compatriots." The air around her reached arctic temperatures instantly as a blast of supercooled air struck out at her. "But you have the Queen's favor. And if I cannot have my freedom, then I can at least have the satisfaction of making cold tears run from her eyes when I deliver your heart to her."

The one knight remaining by the side of the Lady scanned the room, and his eyes fell upon Jack. His blade raised, he dashed across the ice to meet the swashbuckler in single combat. But the experienced swordfighter read the man's swing like a book, and dodged it easily.

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"Your steed, huh? The unicorn mentioned me, right?" Jack asked conversationally as he stepped around the armored knight's broad swing and slid behind his opponent's extended guard. "Because I felt like we really made a connection back there, y'know? One impaler to another." A thin, curving scimitar appeared with a sudden flash in his hand even as his arm slashed forward, ripped into being from the very stuff of Windhearth's chill being, glowing faintly blue and shot through with the patterns of snowflakes. The withering assault of blow left the Lady's minion stumbling backward, trying to regain his balance and momentum.

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The blade that was sent toward Gabriel found itself scraping along his left side. It didn't manage to penetrate the portion of the coat it struck after that, so he was at least safe from being pinned or the like. Gabriel smirked up at his chilly opponent.

"Stings. But you're just hitting old scars right now, Keebler man."

With a rather noticeable *hum*, Gabriel is suddenly floating in the air very close to the ceiling. He points his right hand down at the Sidhe Knight.

"Let's see if you like this tune."

Of course, instead of music, it was a bone-rattling blast of sonic energy concentrated on the faerie in question.

"You Sidhe knights all seem to fall down easily enough. I've beaten your ilk in the past, I can do it again."

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Nick pulled himself up from his resting place on the ice, bringing himself to eye level with the sidhe knight. His eyes were pale blue, almost as white as the sclera, and locked intently on the necromancer. He held his sword poised, waiting for an open moment. Nick cracked a smile. "Okay, so I guess you know how to use that thing," he said. Ectoplasm congealed around his hands -- death was thick in the palace, and it wouldn't have surprised Nick if the Queen had build it as a monument on a field of bones. "I'm not too bad myself."

He swung the massive claws at the knight, but the man managed to dodge the blow nimbly. Nick grimaced; perhaps it was the unnatural cold that was affecting his swing. The knight was quick to respond, jamming his blade under Nick's jacket and into some of the soft tissue. This time, it bit deep, and Nick grunted in pain. Across the way, one of the knights moved away from Gabriel towards his ally, who'd been knocked for a loop by Jack. He took a swung at the nimble swordsman and managed to land a glancing blow against his side.

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"Oh, dear impertinent child," said the Lady as she nimbly dodged Grimalkin's blow, "you know how to use words like a blade. A clumsy, rusted one, but one that would cut nonetheless. To think, in another time, we might have been close compatriots." The air around her reached arctic temperatures instantly as a blast of supercooled air struck out at her. "But you have the Queen's favor. And if I cannot have my freedom, then I can at least have the satisfaction of making cold tears run from her eyes when I deliver your heart to her."

Grim frowned; boy, she sure wished she knew as much about this Queen as seemingly everybody else did! Still, maybe she could trick a little more out of her ladyship with a few more clumsy, rusted blows. Adopting the tone of a bored, spoiled brat, she sighed as she continued talking.

"Y'know what, all I'm hearing is a lot of sour grapes, lady. 'Ooh, I wish I could have a kingdom of my own! Ooh, I wish the Queen favored me the way she does Grimalkin!' Why don't you stop whining and actually do something about it? As evil ice ladies go, you're actually pretty damn pathetic."

She followed this verbal strike with a quick slash directed right at the Lady's face!

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"You really don't see it, do you? I shall - ahhhhhh!" The Lady clutched her hands to her face; blood as thin and as pale as runoff from a glacier coated her face, slipping through her fingers. She shrieked in pain, and the sound tore through the room, causing the fine crystal to shatter and the very walls to crack. She stared at Grimalkin, her eyes burning with madness. "You foul, blighted little creature! Carving out your heart is too merciful. I will leave you broken and twisted, to the point that all will weep when they look upon you."

Across the room, the knight that had charged at Jack shook from his stupor, and looked upon the distress of his lady. He turned towards Grimalkin, his sword raised high...

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"Eh, I'd still hit that," Jack decided aloud as he punished the icily armored knight for taking his attention off of the scintillating swashbuckler, delivering a piercing strike that sizzled through the protective layers and into his opponent's side. "What? I would." The Lady's minions were proving sturdier than he'd expected even as he clearly had one of them on the ropes. Hrn. No more Mr. Nice Of All Blades, then.

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