Posts by Arrowhead

"That's just the thing. We've ensured the Qun underestimate us. We will act that foolish because they believe we are that foolish, and we shall use that to our advantage." Drake Pavus leaned slowly back into his chair and examined the group, "But I believe the raid can wait for another day. The lot of you look more worn down than a village of waterlogged goats. Tarnish can show you-"
"How are you related to us?"
Drake turned his gaze to the elder Pavus, who was looking paler by the minute. His smile seemed to wane away for a moment, before returning just slightly, "Well...not to dredge up the darker parts of your life-"
"But you're going to anyway." Aric could hardly keep himself from growling at the snake before him.
"I don't believe you're a part of this conversation, bastard."
"Aric...it's fine."
Drake seemed satisfied as the Commander shut his mouth and took a small step back, "One Halward Pavus seemed...a tad upset at the fact that his son would never produce an heir. He put up precautions in securing the bloodline. My...let's see, my grandmother was a young lady of a small Ferelden House. They had a bastard son who was my father. The House fell into ruin, and he took the last of his soldiers to the highways connecting the capital to the settlements and raised the Clan. I was born into it, he died of disease, and then I had my two sons. Now there's just Cairo left."
"I'm s-"
"Don't be. Dwelling on the dead only ensures the living to join them soon. That's a lesson the lot of you should take to heart given the past few hours." The man stood up, looking over the lot of them one last time, "Tarnish will show you to your rooms. You're in the tower."

Cairo halted as the hulking Qunari finally spoke. The bandit child sneered as he plopped back onto his rear, "Why should I be 'fraid of a little whippin'? Been though worse. 'Sides, when my Da gets here he's gonna kill all these bastards. You'll see. Clan Pavus don't ask nice and we don't ask twice." The boy nodded sharply, leaning against the bars as he sloppily redid his bootstraps. His dark red hair was tangled and matted with blood, mud, and other unspeakable materials. A thin layer of dirt covered his pale skin, and there were far too many scars on his frail, youthful body. Wiping his blood and snot on his sleeve, Cairo turned back towards the other prisoner, "Wha's your name then? M'Cairo. You c'n call me Cai."

It was only at the gorgon's offer that Elpis realized how weary and worn her body was from the intense traveling and ordeal that she had endured this night. The cool touch of Medusa's hand against hers sent pleasant shivers up her arm and deep into her spine. The smile never left the blind woman's face, "That would be greatly appreciated, Medusa. I'm...quite tired. I'm afraid if I don't sit down soon I might not be such pleasant company." Her own jest evoked a small laugh from her chest, and the maiden reached out to set the basket on the ground lightly, "You've already done so much for me. I hate to take more from you."

Bow, Brother of the Night's Watch;; Eastwach by the Sea
For gods' sake the man was twenty lengths beneath him, but he still made Bow want to curl up in a corner and pray for his sanity. The silence stretched on for a long few moments. His eyes flickered down at his boots for a moment. These Wildlings were coming in either way...but if they had wanted to kill him, surely they wouldn't have come straight to the gate? Bow let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and leaned back onto his heels. Reaching over with both arms, he pushed the lever down as hard as he could. The gate shuddered as its mechanisms worked to roll it upwards. Bow poked his head up back into sight, slinging one arm down to pat the wall once, "Welcome to Eastwatch by the Sea. Make yourselves at home. There's-...there's plenty of room." There was a sharp pang in his chest as he said that. Bow was sure that some of that pain shone on his face as he pulled back from the ramparts and started down the stairs that led into the courtyard.
...
ONE WEEK TIMESKIP
...

Bow, Brother of the Night's Watch;; Eastwatch by the Sea
It had been a week since the Wildlings had arrived and life had certainly changed for the better...but nothing could change the fact that Eastwatch was most certainly no Castle Black.
There was a quarter of Castle Black's barrack space here, and only half of that had ever been used while Bow had been here. Now it seemed the barracks were filled to the brim each and every night. The armory was nothing but cold forges and dulled weapons that hadn't seen use in far too long. A wildling smith had taken to sharpening everyone's weapons within its stone halls now. The mess hall was nearly as bad. The fires hadn't been lit in two weeks prior to the Free Folk's arrival, but now they were alight each and every night. Bow hadn't had enough time to leave Eastwatch for all of the materials he had so desperately needed before Tormund and his people had arrived. Bow had made do stealing as many blankets and cloaks as he could from around the fort to survive the cold nights - but now it seemed he had been 'adopted' by some of the members of the group. His bed was covered in furs given to him by some of the more generous members looking after their 'little Crow'.
Bow wasn't quite sure what to think of that.
At the present, the Crow sat at the very top of the Wall by the Horn and stared out at the North past the Wall. He'd explained the meaning of the number of blasts repeatedly to the Free Folk.
One blast for friend.
Two blast for foes.
Three blasts for Whitewalkers.
None of them could remember well enough so...Bow was still the solitary Watcher on the Wall. The shield that guarded the realms of men and all that shite. His legs swung off the edge of the Wall and bounced against the ice. The nights had been getting colder and frankly Bow wasn't sure how he would have survived for much longer if the Free Folk hadn't come to fill the spaces his...missing brothers had left behind.

Ser Davos of House Seaworth;; Winterfell
The boat ride with the King of the North had felt...more finite than Davos would have cared to admit. All the lords and ladies in Jon Snow's kingdom had warned against his sailing South, and Davos was inclined to agree with them. Still, the decision had been made and now here they were. The Keep of Dragonstone was something to behold - truly it was...and this was not the first time that Davos had stumbled upon its greatness. His heart stung at the remembrance of his first King.
Near the end Stannis had been a force of his impulses and an extension of the Red Woman's influences. Either way the man hadn't deserved to be remembered for the honor he had displayed prior to then. Breathing out steadily, the man was distracted from his grief by the incessant nosing of one massive dire wolf at his hip. The creature was likely the first of its kind to travel this far South, and the first of its kind to travel on a boat. The beast had handled it well despite that fact. He had slept for most of the journey...but Davos had taken to feeding the direwolf bits and pieces of fish that some of the men had caught along the way.
Davos was regretting that now, as he crouched down and scratched the hulking white wolf behind the ear, "Now you listen to me beastie," Ghost tilted his head and whined, "-yes you. The Queen's Hand is a wee man. He'll be smaller than you I reckon. You can't eat him though. No matter how much he runs his mouth. Understand?"
There was a beat of silence.
Then Ghost's slobber was dripping off Davos' face and tangling into his beard.
"I'll take that as an 'I understand'." Davos straightened up and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, glancing around over his shoulder and calling, "Your Grace! We're about to make land! Are you prepared?"

Jaime Lannister;; King's Landing
The plan was simple, though Jaime found it almost...elementary. The raven had been sent to abandon Casterly Rock. The coffers had been emptied. Gold and food alike had been swept away with the forces now en route to Highgarden. Jaime himself was preparing to leave with his forces to join them. The air felt...different. The war that had sent Robert Baratheon pacing back and forth for hours upon hours in his chambers. The War with the Last Dragon. Jaime could feel the heat of battles yet to be fought thrumming beneath his veins. Clearing his throat, Jaime rapped his knuckles three times on the Queen's door and entered.
Most would die for such an action.
Jaime considered himself to be of the minority to partake in such a liberty.
"Cersei?" He glanced about the illustrious room, eyes flickering to the balcony that overlooked the glorious city, "Are you in here?"
It felt like when they were children. When Jaime would wait until their father had gone to sleep to slip into Cersei's room and partake in their...more intimate activities. A smile flickered over his face. Those had been simpler times. They had been so innocent and pure. They had bowed to the Targaryens. They had been faced with nothing but a life of carefree learning and grooming. There was nothing but freedom, childish secrets, and...thoughts that Jaime didn't believe were appropriate right now.

Beric Dondarrion;; En Route to Eastwatch by the Sea
The journey had been long and harrowing. Thankfully beside the usual rabble lingering along the highways there had not been much delay. Now Beric could see Eastwatch approaching fast. The horses were heaving from the cold. It wouldn't matter, more likely than now they would be departing beyond the Wall on foot. Horses would not last long and would only draw more attention than necessary. The sun beat down on the Wall and the ice that encased it were weeping. It caught the light in the most beautiful way. Beric went silent for a long moment, "We're almost there boys! When we get to Eastwatch, let me and Thoros do the talking!"

"Yeah - same Clan. M'great grandfather was an arsehole. We were some...backup plan that he forgot 'bout when he got all accept...y?" Cai flopped himself against the bars with a crooked grin, "S'okay though. Never had to go to fancy magic school or nuthin'. Just got to play around with my friends all day and kill some folks here an' there. M'sure my Da's gonna have no issue freein' another fighter to bust in these Qunari heads!" The child swiftly fell silent as the door above was yanked open. Panicked green eyes darted to either side of the cell, before he clambered over into the shadows and hugged himself tightly into a ball.
"Good - you're awake." The voice was familiar, but perhaps even more familiar was the rumbling snarl that followed him. The clanking of chains was evidence of another prisoner being brought along. It wasn't clear who it was until the elf stepped around the corner. Gatt. In tow? Skoll. The hulking wolf was stained black and red from sooth, dust, and blood. He was muzzled and could barely waddle his way down the steps from his shackles. The son of Solas was led into one of the cells and left to plop there, "Iron Bull. I was starting to worry I'd never see you again." The elf crouched in front of the Qunari with a crooked smirk, "It's been too long."

"I....yes. You're right, Dami." The Magister strained to sit up, taking his son's hand to ease the process on himself and followed the looming Tal Vashoth known as 'Tarnish'. The journey was short...but the view was amazing. The Tower had several layers. The lowest were beneath the ground, and the soldiers that had accompanied them to the capital settled in quite nicely. There were four floors. Each one became more and more luxurious on the way up. They had been made for a noble family who - many years ago - had failed to deliver on a promise to the Ferelden throne.
"You all can rest here...there will be a guard posted at the front of the Tower. Drake will send for you when we straighten out our plans." The Qunari ducked to exit, "And I uh-...I'm sorry for your losses."
Then he was gone.

"You checked a mirror lately, Bull?" The elf shut the door of the White Wolf's cell and sauntered over in front of the fugitives apprehended from the competition. His smile glinted wicked and sharp as the daggers on his hips. From his corner in his cell, Cairo shuddered. Then Gatt finally spoke once more into the gloom of the dungeons, "Bull, Bull, Bull...I would say I missed you, but that'd be a lie." He crouched down low before the two Qunari men chained to the wall, "Frankly I can't wait to see what the Arishok does to you." Sharp eyes flitted over to Sek, "Well...we both know what's going to happen to that one, but you? It seems a waste to just...convert you to work in the fields and have someone tell you when you need to eat, shite, and sleep. Trapped in that thick skull. Screaming for the rest of your days, and begging for the release of death."
"Only one that'll be beggin' here's you!"

Gatt's eyebrows shot upright, as though he'd forgotten about the spitfire child behind him, "Cairo Pavus. If it weren't for the stench I would have believed you'd escaped long ago."
"Just a matter o'time...bloody fuckin' rabbit."

"And I suppose you know all about fucking, isn't that right?"

The look on the child's face was somewhere between horror and surprise, before he once more drew in on himself and tucked back into the shadows.
"You see, Bull? The Qunari's only become more powerful- no- more informed since you've been gone. I look forwards to showing you just how much."

In that next instance the only thing that mattered was holding his family close. Cullen swept forth to hold his daughter close, and soon enough Aric was approaching to press against them both with Amara held ever so firmly in his scarred arms. Despite the unusually high volume of bodies in the room, it was completely silent. One could hear a pin drop. Then Aric spoke:
"Listen to me...all of you." His chest burned with the pain of his next words, "Now...we've lost...a lot. Too much. Too many. It's...it's always been a part of the job...and it shouldn't. None of you deserve this. But we'll survive. We always do. We've survived so much worse than this. We just have to rest...collect ourselves and- and carry on. We cannot die for those that have been lost. They wouldn't have wanted that for us. We'll eliminate the Qunari threat, reclaim our hostages, and then...then we'll all take a much needed break."
...
Fenral wasn't sure what he was feeling. Numb didn't seem to encompass the emptiness that had hollowed out the light from within him. A chill had settled rather firmly throughout his body. He wasn't sure what he needed...until he was leaning against his adopted father and burying his face into his shoulder. It had been years since he had indulged in any sort of physical comfort from his human father. There had only been cold looks, snarky comments, or stony silence. Now, Fenral let the waterworks loose, and silently sobbed into his Papa's robes.

It had been years since someone had offered as many kindnesses to her as the supposed 'monster' that now stood before her. Elpis could not keep the smile off her face as she reached out to take the goblet. The water that slipped down her throat was addicting. It was clean and cool and lovely. She envied the feeling of the nature's gift to her and how it had been stolen time and time again from her. The gift that so many seemed to take for granted. In an instant it was gone and Elpis was left smiling sightlessly up at the gorgon, "That'd be lovely...thank you. Thank you for all of this."

~~~
She hadn't been expecting him to actually say anything, so when Logan spoke up, the symbiote pair jumped in surprise. The shame followed after, balling itself painfully in the pit of her gut as she fought the flush down from her cheeks. Skittish as a baby deer. Pathetic. Axel cleared her throat and nudged herself a little higher in her seat - already she felt dwarfed by the size of the vehicle, the mountain man, and the towering forests around her. She'd never been tall to begin with, but with the new binging habit they'd apparently picked up via L.I.F.E.'s new testing, she was even smaller.
"No, I- We've never really...been in forests like these. My parents grew up in one of those uppity suburbs. Y'know - the ones with the real cringe neighborhood block parties where everyone dresses up and shit talks Sharon's like...potato salad. I don't know. I used to run away for most of em." Axel paused, letting the word vomit subside before allowing herself the tiniest of smiles, "I like it though. So far, I mean. Phage...he just wants to pet a moose."
They're called meeses!
"Right...okay...he says he wants to pet meeses. He's convinced their chocolate milk clouds with graham cracker horns and that they need to be protected."
Was she talking too much? It felt like she was talking too much. Her mouth shut itself and her lips tucked in against one another, glancing over at her current Guardian with a tight smile. Just a few minutes ago they were threatening to rip one another to pieces - or at least it'd felt that way. Now they were riding in the car together to spend a day out on the town. One thing was for certain: Emerson was SO going to get it the next time she saw her.

Now the League got to be the heroes...again...and he hadn't even killed the Kryptonian. The bastards. Gambit's breaths came out in strangled wheezes that passed his bloody lips like the ghosts of prayers long forgotten. There weren't words. There were only the shrill noises of a tight whistle. His heart raced in his chest as the side of him that was not human struggled to heal the rest of him. He hadn't expected the Wonderous Woman before him to help. Part of him had expected her to let him die. She'd done it before - in the wars. Yes, he had kept a close eye on her and her relatives for as long as he could before withdrawing to his own matters. Now it seemed it didn't matter who he had been watching and when.
His powers were failing.
Gambit, the Archangel, having the powers that rarely a soul knew about...failing.
God damn the irony of it all, if God even was still here. His stomach tightened, and with it, the blood soaked further into the cape around him. He cracked a crooked grin as golden eyes flickered up to stare at Diana of Themyscira through the cracks of the visor, "You can...save the pleasantries, Princess... Still got a few tricks up my sleeve." He felt the exposed bone of his...abnormal spine shrieking in agony as he strained to sit up, "No weapon of yours or theirs can kill me."
...
Hal Jordan and Green Lantern both had been shot at more times than he could count. There had been bruises and cuts and comas and stitches and more agony than one man ought to endure. Neither Hal Jordan nor Green Lantern however, had ever been shot by Kryptonite. The world was slightly hazy, and in an instant it seemed a dark shadow had swept from above to take him away for good. Then came the words: demanding and unwavering, with just a hint of worry.
Hal was never going to let him forget that.
The smile that pulled on his lips was hesitant and weak, but it was a smile nonetheless, "Always knew you cared, Spooks...!" The wheezing laugh that left him tugged at the stinging wound, and the glorified Glow Stick strained to sit up and get a better look at what had brought him down. It was getting hard to tell where the suit ended and the intrusive rock began...but he had survived worse, and right now the most important thing was getting their prisoners back to the Watchtower.

A white gloved hand reached up to squeeze Bruce's forearm gently, "Hey. I'm gonna be fine. Let's head back to base and-" Hal winced, swallowing the tightness in the back of his throat and coughing lightly, "-and we can call it a night, eh?"

It wasn't as though this were the first time for Carrier to ever snap at her. He'd done it a few times before in her childhood and chastised her for her obvious attitude but it felt different this time. More serious. More deep-rooted in something that Oneshot had never understood about him. Her wings drooped behind her, almost scraping the elevator wall as they rode up in silence. The ambiance of the city beneath her swiftly faded away to nothing, leaving only the whirring of the machinery of the Nemesis.

The Nemesis. A fitting name for one of the last warships of the Decepticon armies. At the conclusion of the war, Megatron had taken to flaunting their strength by connecting the buildings with the killing machines. A message of transition - from conquering to ruling. It was a transition that many Decepticons believed their Emperor would never fully make. Some had been proven right. Within a few years of her birth, Oneshot remembered one of the warships taking flight to the Moon of this new Earth. This...New Kaon.
"Starscream. Oneshot. Join me." The deep rumble of the voice of Oneshot's Sire was nothing new, nor was his choice of words. It was meant to sound like an invitation. It was a method of control. A way to make both Carrier's will and her own to ally alongside the throne.
Not that they could actually inflict much damage.
"I was just watching your match."
Red optics finally flickered up from the ground to gaze upon her Sire, "You did?"
"It's refreshing to see that my offspring has taken to my own talent in the arena."
Oneshot knew what he was doing. She knew this was...foolish...but for the life within her Spark she could not keep her wings from sticking up and fluttering slightly, "I learned from the greatest and smartest gladiator there ever was."
"That's my sparkling." Megatron reached out a clawed appendage, waving his daughter over to embrace her shortly before reaching out to pull Starscream by the middle onto his lap, "Have you been avoiding me, Starscream?" Oneshot was careful to avoid her optics to her Energon as Megatron began to stroke her Carrier's wings.
---
"You are an accomplice and not acting against this breach makes you just as guilty, Private Smokescreen!" With a loud huff, Magnus stalked back through the hall, "Prime will be hearing about this!"

Another day another conflict. Lockdown would have laughed from his position astride the smaller bot's shoulders if he were sure it wouldn't kill him. His entire body was aflame with...numbness. Perhaps he'd turned off his nerve receptors following his capture...or rescue? The bounty hunter wasn't even sure what was happening to him anymore. If Primus truly did exist, maybe he would release him from life's grasp here - and leave him to rejoin his crew back home. If there was anything after this to begin with. If not? Well, at least Lockdown would be able to catch up on some recharge.
. . .

Ratchet had been a physician for longer than most, and was perhaps the last regarded expert in the Autobots ranks following the brutal hunt from the Decepticons and their hired attack hounds. He knew the smell of Energon - and there was a lot of it. His servos were already grabbing at his emergency patch kits and medical Energon supplies before the team had breached into his medical bay. He had heard shouting. Perhaps it was truly that serious. The old mech's mind raced a lightyear a minute, and he was at the doors before he'd fully processed what he'd said, "Set them on the table!"
But who was they?
Bumblebee-? Carrying them. Smokescreen and Magnus? Behind them?
Ratchet regretted his words as soon as he'd spoken them. Teal optics slowly narrowed at the sight of the mangled black metal astride the scout's shoulders.

Lockdown. It was Lockdown. The most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy...bleeding out in their base. How? And why?
The medic wanted to let him die. He wanted to cut the glitch open with his own servos and tools and watch the mech that had taken so much and so many from the Autobots. He wanted to be the reason this scourge no longer existed. He wanted... He wanted to become as horrid as Megatron in that moment. That thought was perhaps more sickening than treating Lockdown.
Ratchet vented out a long sigh, and pointed to the table, "Until I've received an order to do so, he won't die under my watch."

"Now, Bull...you know I'm not supposed to tell you that." The elf crouched down to Bull's level slowly. Deliberately. Like a wolf staring its prey in the eyes before it went for the throat. Then he chuckled and spoke, "But let's be honest - you taught me that sometime's it's best to break the rules." He straightened up, all vehemence seemingly forgotten in the span of a heartbeat, "Capturing you and killing the former Inquisitor were unseen successes of this little raid of ours. Furthering the victory that we were already going to achieve." His boots dragged along the uneven cobblestones as he stalked to and fro before the cells, "We were after agents of the Venatori. Embedded in the ranks of your organization. Like rats scurrying from one sinking ship to the next...and soon enough we'll drown them."

Arya Stark;; Winterfell
Winterfell's security had gone far downhill since Arya's childhood, or perhaps she had simply grown to adapt to the obstacles that placed themselves in her way. She hadn't wasted any time after seeing Sansa wandering to her favored corner in the ravenry. It had been a common place for her to hide so that no one would hear her crying over this boy or that boy. Arya had used to laugh at her, and throw rocks up at the tower wall to spook the birds and send Sansa running to Mother. Winterfell had been brighter those days. The siege castle had been less of a...*fortress* and more of a *home*. The Faceless Assassin crept up through the halls, silent and unseen until she reached the door behind the Lady of Winterfell.
What a strange thought.

"You are in desperate need of a better place to brood," Arya could not keep the smirk off her lips, "And of better guards."

Bow, Brother of the Night's Watch;; Eastwatch by the Sea
The small Night's Watchman of Eastwatch nearly flinched right off the edge of the Wall when the ginger Wildling crept up on him. He could offer nothing more but a tight lipped smile. He desperately wanted to tell him to leave him be with his thoughts but-...but then he was pissing right off the Wall and Bow could no longer fathom words. His face flushed a bright red and he swiftly snapped his head to face the direction opposite the exposed warrior. There were several emotions flowing through his head; discomfort, anxiety, disbelief... Then Bow was laughing. He wasn't sure why exactly, but his cackles rung off the giant icy barrier and into the silent winter below.
"Well-! I'm sure they appreciate something to look at up here other than my ugly mug!" Bow shook his head lightly, laughter fading into a wide smile on his lips, "So you just come up here ta piss?"

Ser Davos of House Seaworth;; Dragonstone
"Well, Your Grace...I know only what I learned from Stannis and the Baratheons prior to Robert's untimely demise: when her father and brother were killed in the Rebellion, the former Queen fled with her younger son. She gave birth in a storm and, as I understand, did not survive. Perhaps...avoid parentage altogether." The Onion Knight cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing, "She was sold to a Khalasar when she was much younger, and her husband was killed. She took over, obtained her three dragons and moved across Slaver's Bay to expand her forces. That's...what we'll likely encounter here. Dothraki and Unsullied and...keep an eye out for the dragons. I highly doubt she will give into her family's legacy of burning Northern Kings alive - but keep an eye out for them. I'm...not quite sure how big they've gotten." Pleased with his report, the unofficial 'Hand of the King in the North' gave a small nod, "If I may, Your Grace? I'd suggest treading...lightly, but not giving her too much gain when it comes to your claims on the North. Her primary target is Cersei and King's Landing, but one misstep could lead to her swift invasion of the North."

Beric Dondarrion;; En Route to Eastwatch
"Well if you did the talking they'd shoot us before we were in ear-shot." There was a chorus of chuckles that passed through the group, "Let's get the horses going a little faster - warm them up so they survive to Eastwatch." He stirred his horse into a brisk trot, rounding the top of the hill just a league or two from the gate. Now the leader of the Brotherhood could see shapes moving to and fro across the walls...but no black. There were only shades of brown and pale... "Something's wrong..." The words left his mouth before he could think them through, "Those aren't Brothers of the Night's Watch."

Jaime Lannister;; King's Landing
"I will put Death to the sword to give me more time to offer to you." He took a small step forwards, reaching out to cradle her hip in his hand and gently nudge her closer to him, "I wanted to see you before we departed. I'm hoping this will be swift, but in the case that it isn't... You understand." Cersei would understand, because even in light of the recent events, they each only had one another person who could understand them. They had come into this world - and Jaime would ensure that they would do as much as they could together in it.

“Sit back, relax, and let me tell you a story...”

“The year is 1990, and we are in the Fremont Country of Wyoming - just southeast of the Wind River Range – in a town that used to be known as Miner’s Delight. It was, for many years, a ghost town. It is known by that name no longer now.”

“Welcome to Grimmling Woods – where the Headless Horseman patrols the streets, Dracula oversees the town, the Wolfman will serve you the best drinks around, and the Innkeep Goldilocks will give you a bed (and warm it for the night). Recently, this lovely town of folktales banished from the world has fallen under the grasp of a killer.”

“Hansel. Gretel. Merlin. Dead. Brutally murdered in the dead of night. The only suspect fleeing beyond the bridge before the Horseman can catch a glimpse of their face.”

“Will the arrival of a Grimm Detective assist in the case? Or is the town doomed to be slaughtered one by one until there is nothing left?”

~~~

Inhabitants of Grimmling Wood

Mayor: Dracula - marisaiva

Sheriff: The Headless Horseman - Arrowhead

Constable - Dormouse

Barkeep: The Wolfman - Ambrolyne

Bartender: Little Red Riding Hood - marisaiva

Defense Attorney: Ichabod Crane
Handyman: Gepetto

Innkeeper: Goldilocks
Pimp: Rumplestiltskin

Doctor: Frankenstein
Mortician: Frankenstein's Monster
Rumplestiltskin's 'Workers':

Cinderella

Alice

Belle

Snow White

Sleeping Beauty
Pinocchio
Boy Blue
Boy Who Cried Wolf

Humans

Detective: Rhea - Ambrolyne

Beyonders:

The Witch - marisaiva

The Trolls

The Three Bears

Peter Pan and his Lost Boys

Schmee and Captain Hook’s Crew

Tinkerbell

Imprisoned:

The Red Queen

The March Hare

The Mad Hatter

Madame Mim

Captain Hook

Deceased:

Hansel and Gretel

Merlin

Track for notif.

~~~

There were many things that the entity known as the Headless Horseman hated. Fire. Bridges. Crocodiles. People. More specifically the people standing to the left and right of him. Mister Ichabod Crane and the beloved Mayor Dracula. So, it was really no surprise that the Horseman and his trusted steed Daredevil, continued to shift back and forth atop the covered wooden bridge that held the only safe path in and out of the Grimmling Woods.

Ichabod had begun vomiting over the edge of the Gate Bridge almost as soon as they arrived. The Headless Horseman could hear it splattering thickly against the side of the aged wood. A hollow growl reverberated up through the gap of where his mouth had once resided,

“You disgust me, Mister Crane.” Daredevil whinnied beneath him, rearing slightly in agreement, “The trolls will not be pleased when they come back to see their home lathered with bile and…what choice beverage did you partake in this early in the morning?”

The retching continued for a half minute before the Defense Attorney could work out a garbled response, “Honey mead, you foul cretin- HNGH!” Then he was gagging over the edge.

“Ah yes. Honey mead.” A gloved hand stroked over the black mane of his shire steed, “Just be sure you wipe the filth from you before the human gets here. The more competent we seem to solving our own problems, the sooner she’ll leave.”

“Yes but- but we aren’t so competent, are we Sheriff?”

Daredevil gnashed his teeth as the Horseman tightened his grip on the reins, “Careful Crane, or I’ll finish the job.” The forcibly imposed ‘protector of Grimmling Woods’ glanced over at their Mayor for but a moment, “Perhaps you’ll finally get your wish, and the human can take over my appointment…whenever he decides to show up. I can't say it will have been a pleasure working for you - but I'll enjoy a long needed break away from the bureaucracy.”

~~~
The rage that boiled up in his chest felt like the fire that used to burn inside his demonic 'head' that he had borne for too long, "I can introduce myself, Dracula!" Beneath him, Daredevil reared ever so slightly and whinnied his shared displeasure, "Rhea of the Bureau of of Folktale and Fable Security and Defense, I am the Sheriff. People of the town call me Horseman but you will refer to me as Sheriff. Not Headless, not Horseman, not Headless Horseman - Sheriff. This-" a heavy gloved hand pat the mane of the black steed he sat atop, "-is Daredevil. While in the boundaries of Grimmling Woods you are under the jurisdiction of me and..." The hole where a head should have been growled out a reprehensible gurgle, "Mayor Dracula." Daredevil turned sharply and began trotting down the bridge, "If at any point you threaten the safety of this town? I shall eject you from this place myself with the same prejudice which your kind inflicted upon us."
"Don- don't be intimidated by that buh- big lug- Burgh...!" Ichabod turned to stumble after the Sheriff, "He's jus- just pissed tha'he needs help..."
"I do not-"
"Hansel n' Gretel n' Merlin're dead so...so y'do..."
"...yes...I suppose we truly should begin there..." There was an uncomfortably heavy silence, filled only by the clopping of Daredevil's hooves against the cobblestone path that led into the town of Grimmling Woods, "How much have your superiors told you of our...situation?" Fury brewed deeply in the pit of the Sheriff's stomach, enticed with just a touch of helplessness. For years he had been pledged to protect the village of his human life, and now, yet again he had been thrust into a position such as that. The Horseman had been good at his duties. He had done his damndest to keep his kind safe. He had failed. The mangled corpses of Hansel and Gretel still burned in the shifting auras of the world around him. The territory still thrummed with the departure of Merlin - what many had considered the greatest wizard to ever have lived. Fear and suspicion had run rampant, and before there could possibly have been another killing the Headless Horseman had been driven to his last resort: calling for help.
Now here they were...a human in their midst. More than a human - a Grimm.
How far he had fallen.

~~~
There were few times where the Horseman would be willing to give into the pressures of the world around him. He had never been one for orders, and he certainly wasn't one for giving into the BFFSD...but there were larger stakes than his pride. The Horseman gurgled out a low note of displeasure before speaking up, "There was...one witness to the murder of Hansel and Gretel: Delilah Rose. She's the daughter of Rose Red. We can't talk to her. She's a minor...under the guardianship of Rumpelstiltskin." Gloved hands twisted mercilessly into the reins, "I don't know how much you've been told of our little town, but Bloodsucker here isn't as in control as he'd like you to believe. If you'd like to go to Rumpel's...establishment, I can't promise you'll get any results. I can't even get past the front door."
The Houseman turned to Dracula then, "And for the record, I will not be allowing you to fill this woman's mind with your englamoured vision of this town. Keep in mind: you're a suspect with the rest until it can be otherwise disproved. This will be a fair investigation, and you won't be tampering with it as you usually do." Daredevil tossed his mane with a whinny and continued trotting down the cobblestone street with renewed vigor, "Either way, Detective Rhea Grimm, I suggest you find a place to stay for the duration of your investigation here and drop your things. Our esteemed Mayor was correct about one thing: The Little Bear is a key location to gather information and get to know the inhabitants of the town."
"W- hic! Well I shhh...shall leave you to't my fair lady. Duty calls!" With a shaky bow, Ichabod Crane began to stagger off to the side of the street and stumble into a broken down shack - the poorest excuse for an attorney's office that the Horseman had ever seen. He couldn't hold back the bemused chuckle that reverberated up into being. If he had still had a throat he might have attempted to swallow it down. Instead, the Horseman merely did his best to twist the noise into a growl and urge Daredevil into motion once more,
"So, Detective? Where would you like to go first."

~~~
Axel was used to sketchy situations - in fact 'sketchy' was the optimal word to use when describing most of her life. Drug dealers, gangs, daytime pageants with 'advantages' her mother would buy when it seemed appropriate. Rides in the backs of police cars. Hiding in sewers. Running away. Smoking in back alleyways. Desperation incarnate - all in an attempt to get some sort of reaction from the parents that had as quickly left her as they had left each other. Driving out to the middle of nowhere with nothing but an immortal mountain man as her guide? Axel kind of liked her odds.
"Well, Phage got headbutt by a moose once. He didn't seem to mind." Her lithe fingers unbuckled herself from the seat and drew the jacket a little tighter around her. The jump down to the ground was a little longer than she'd first thought, and a bright yellow tendril lashed out to keep her upright. It was gone in the next heartbeat. Shoving her pale hands into the much-too-big pockets she started slowly down the path - waiting for Logan to catch up, "So this place is...not at all where one would think to go hiking. How'd you find it? Dump a body back here or something?" Axel risked a weak smile up at the taller mutant - not really expecting it to be reciprocated.

Megatron had never been one for decency. He had relished in pushing the boundaries of every expectation placed before him. It had been part of the reason why he and his forces had grown so rapidly. Those that had been abused by the system and left to rot and die were renewed with the vigor of rebellion and revolution. They had lost their home, and claimed a new one through brute force and cunning. Performing acts of affection in front of their sparkling like this was one of the few ways he could get that forbidden rush. There were no rules to break when you ruled the world.
"She takes after her Sire and her Carrier. I've never known a seeker more skilled than you in flight, though after watching the match today..." Megatron drew his servo further along Starscream's wings, "You may have a challenger."
"Speaking of challenges-" Oneshot sat up slightly in her chair. She had clearly had enough of the display before her, "I had a question, Sire." Taking after her Carrier once more, the young seeker did not wait for permission, "When will I be sent beyond Darkmount to hunt what remains of the Autobot resistance? I've proven my worth time and time again in the Pits. I've scouted beyond the borders and located Energon mines for you and the rest of the Empire. If the Decepticons are to look to me as they look to you, I will need to begin my active duty soon. Wildbreak has already seen combat and he's an Earth-year younger than me."
The sigh that left Megatron sounded more like a growl, and he promptly released Starscream before turning to his wayward femme, "The Autobots you face in the gladiator pit as starved, hopeless, and fragile. They do not compare to the-"
"But they do compare. They are not hopeless. Each one of them seeks to kill me to weaken your Empire's morale. They are more invigorated in the ring than ever before."
"Oneshot-"
"Just one mission. I'll go with Wildbreak and Drag Strip and Barricade. They're the fastest grounders we have other than Knockout!"
~~~
Lockdown hadn't been afraid of much in his life...but he was scared now. Megatron had assured his soldiers that Optimus Prime was dead, and that all that remained were a few handful of ragtag rebels clinging onto the Prime's ancient ways. Lockdown had believed him. He should never have been so foolish.

The agony stringing through his chassis was nigh unbearable. His servos scrabbled against the medical berth and his peds dug harshly into the metal. He writhed viciously under the gaze of the Autobot officers. Everything was on fire. He was burning, he had to be. His spark still pulsed its defiant green, but it was weaker now. It sputtered and cracked in his chest. If he had stayed in the ship maybe this agony would not have befallen him. Had they felt pain? Those who had died to Tarn's vicious command? Perhaps it had been just like falling into recharge, or maybe that had been worse. Never understanding what had happened to you as you drifted through the nothingness of the cosmos.

The medic was speaking again, and tired, green optics finally flickered up to look over the Prime and his officers.
The scouts he had seen just fine. They were young and healthy and could endure more challenges than older frames such as Ultra Magnus'. The Second in Command looked beaten down and worn. More scars had been added to his collections and one of his servos had been replaced with a workable claw. Ratchet, the Chief Medical Officer...the only medical officer, had always looked worn down. Too many lives he had failed to save. Lockdown would have laughed if it didn't hurt so much. The old mech reminded him of Flight. Then there was the Prime himself: always strong and resolute in the face of almost certain defeat. What the hunter wouldn't have given Primus to have a Cybertronian like that on his ship. Ratchet was speaking again, and delirioiusly, Lockdown angled his helm to look him over.
Everything seemed so far away now. It was like the world had fallen into a fog - and there was something just beyond it he had to get to.
"If you wish for me to let him offline naturally, give the order Optimus." Ratchet's servos worked quickly over the shattered frame, "Even with my best efforts it is likely he will not survive the night. We will be using valuable Energon to heal him." There were injuries everywhere. Blaster burns, stab wounds, shrapnel splatter, separated fuel lines, broken joints, and low Energon readings. It had been a long time since Ratchet had been forced to deal with injuries this severe. He went about patching up as many Energon leaks as he could, promptly ignoring the bounty hunter's garbled growls of pain. He would not waste Energon on the mech until he'd been ordered to. Too many had died under his watch. He would not be the reason for their starvation.

~~~
Home had always been a complicated topic for Axel...but she had never felt more at home than she did now. The rumbling voice of the Mountain Man drew her attention once more,
"Wouldn't you like to know where I dump my bodies, thought you n' your bug ate people whole."
Axel started slightly at that. A joke. He'd just told a joke. A shit-eating grin spread across the pale host's face...and then for the first time in a long time she began to laugh. True, genuine laughter. Her nose compressed in a sharp snort that quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles. Her stomach contracted slightly, and Phage began to laugh within her. It was demented out of context. Really it was. Axel took comfort in the fact that they were both freaks on the same mountain, being hunted by people who wanted to use them. She was still laughing when he was going over the rules for the forest.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Axel wiped at her eyes quickly and grinned up at him, "Don't be a fuckin' damsel in distress." Her lithe fingers reached into the pocket of the jacket and pulled out a thick cigar, "Here ya go, by the way. In case you need that extra kick to get through this walk with background noise like me."

---
The Bounty Hunter Creed
*No Bounty is Worth Dying For
*People Don't Have Bounties, Only Acquisitions Have Bounties
*Capture by Design, Kill by Necessity
*No Hunter Shall Slay Another Hunter
*No Hunter Shall Interfere With Another's Hunt
*In the Hunt, One Captures or Kills, Never Both
*No Hunter Shall Refuse to Aid Another Hunter

---
They're simple rules when you really think about it. Almost common sense. Then again, nothing's really common in the galaxy. Lines get crossed all the time. Rules get broken. Allies turn into enemies. Enemies turn into allies. The Dark turns to Light turns to Dark again. The cycle continues, and those unlucky enough to get caught beneath the wheel don't live long enough to escape it. Not Boba Fett. Boba had always been lucky. Lucky enough to avoid instances where either side of the line called to him stronger than the other.
Now, he's faced with someone who may be even luckier.