overseerivy-blog

[overseerivy-blog]

lcaricn:

All Aster did was shrug, as was the way of most fey to leave any kind of gesture up to interpretation. But unlike most cases, they only meant it in good humour. A chuckle lit up their features, “Gale? I’d bet money he doesn’t come here to swim. I rarely see him around these days and we live in the same building.” Not that they were close. Acquaintances was the word Aster would use on most of the people they knew. But not Ivy. She was more than a friendly face in the crowd. “You know, I heard Clann Nuada’s gonna do an egg hunt this Friday. Don’t know if it’s worth joining—guess it all depends on what the big prize is. I suppose you’re gonna be sitting out…”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think you’re wrong. I think he might surprise you if you give him the chance.” Gale had certainly surprised her. With his soft ways and his love of poetry that so easily rivaled her own. He was one of the few that Ivy felt something that almost threatened to be a connection. “An egg hunt?” Ivy turned to Aster in surprise. It sounded too innocent, too childlike. Too human. And yet it actually sounded rather enjoyable. “It could be interesting. And why not? It’s not like they’re out to harm us. And even if they were, well...I can handle them.”

[overseerivy-blog]

handofglories:

The girl.

Oleander couldn’t help but laugh at that, though the sound wasn’t callous or cruel – just amused, if a little quiet. “Had she been here, she might have liked that,” she said, words streaked through with mirth. “Though I’d be careful who I called ‘girl’ ‘f I were you, Ivy.” By fey standards, the Overseer herself was young – not even a century old, yet.

“Eurya was..”

For a beat, she considered her words. There was no harm in admitting it now – the truth of it had already hurt her, and there was little anyone could do with the information.

“She was the love of my life.”

“It wasn’t meant to be an insult. I didn’t know her.” It was so strange, watching the woman go from laughing to insulted to...something else. 

Ivy watched closely and felt her heart clench in her chest at the woman’s words. She wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but she doubted it would be welcomed at all. Not from someone in the opposite court. Not after your love had died when surely the Seelie Court blamed the Unseelie for the death. 

"You have my condolences,” she said softly, with a slight incline of her head then opened the book, flipping through it quietly before finding the one she had been searching.

She kept her eyes on the paper in front of her rather than Oleander as she read aloud, “The Bustle in a House, The Morning after Death, Is solemnest of industries, Enacted upon Earth. The Sweeping up the Heart, And putting Love away, We shall not want to use again, Until Eternity.” With the final word of the poem ready, she glanced up with soft eyes toward the older fey.

[overseerivy-blog]

daveyventura:

Davey had never liked small spaces, especially those like this elevator with no windows, no reminder that there was sky and grass and dirt waiting outside for him. It was one of several reasons he’d never been great at school; he was always staring out the window, itching for fresh air, for open space to move, to run. This was a thousand times worse than that. The elevator felt like it was actively closing in on him, and he found himself looking up to the ceiling as if he might be able to pull a Diehard and climb into the elevator shaft. 

And Ivy was still talking. Why was she still talking? And – she was agreeing with him? That was enough to have Davey glancing back over at her, even more wary than before because this was still her trying to get into his head, it had to be. 

What he didn’t understand was why it was working.

Maybe it was just that she seemed so calm while he was so angry, that if she weren’t an Unseelie it might almost seem as if she were being nice to him when all he’d done was throw accusations in her face. For good reason, Davey reminded himself. “So you’re telling me all fey are a bunch of liars, and then expecting me to believe what you’re saying?” He let out a humorless laugh. 

“No.” He repeated, though his voice lacked some of the same head it did the first time around. “The Unseelie trick people, just like you all tricked my sister, just like you’re trying to trick me right now.” And no wonder they were so good at it, all calm and collected like Ivy was being right now. But Davey knew better. “Nothing you can say is going to change my mind about that.“

Ivy stared at the hilt of her now broken knife, twirling it around in her hand idly. It had been a shame to have it break, but the rest of this was just as bad as the loss of her weapon. Someone else was trapped the same way she had been. It kept bringing back those long suppressed feelings. It kept bringing to mind a barrage of images of a blonde haired girl she’d known long ago.

They played one after the next like slide snapping through on an automated projector. Their first meeting at the jazz club that had been shut down for decades. The first time Ivy walked into the feyry realm, staring in amazement at her. The first time they’d explored each other’s body’s and she had learned how good it felt to embrace the part of her she’d denied. The way Pearl’s blue eyes glazed over as Ivy prattled excitedly about each new thing she learned to fight with. Seeing the girl kissing someone else. Watching as she was given over to the Tithe.

It was all the emotions she ran from. All the ones he would be stuck in forever if he happened to make it through Fidchell. Her hand gripped tighter on the hilt as though that would change any of it.

It didn’t.

“Honestly? Most of them are. They’ve lived longer than you can fathom. They’ve lived longer than I can fathom and I’m one of them. They learn how to phrase things just right. Promise you the moon and give you a rock.” She like the fey, as a whole. Had found a home with them. But that didn’t mean she didn’t see their shortfalls. It wasn’t like the storybooks. Fey weren’t good.

“And that’s the problem,” she said softly and looked down at the knife, twisting it on the tip of her finger. “You won’t believe a single thing I say. Even if I’m the only damn person who’s honest with you. So we’re at an impasse, aren’t we?” She let out a sad little laugh. “You know, it’s funny. Usually not trusting me would be the smartest thing you could do. But you...” she shook her head. “You’ll see it some day. God knows I did. You’ll see it and you’ll hate everyone for it.”

[overseerivy-blog]

iambecomcdeath:

Of all the things that weren’t to Ro’s liking by her own birth, the one thing she did have going for her is that homophobia wasn’t ingrained in her culture. Generally speaking, the fey were matriarchal, and generally speaking, no one gave a flying fuck who you slept with. The only vaguely straight requirement was that the monarch had to have a child, but even the how on that was a little vague. So when Ro was full and out by an early age, no one batted a lash toward her; indeed, there was no ‘outing,’ it was just a life lived. A life lived that—only until very recently had Ro realized—that her public love affair with Princess Caora, had it not ended how it had, could have landed Ro as a Consort. That would have been its own brand of bizarre. Ro wasn’t sure she knew what to do when required to make decisions for others beyond torture designs; she was a solider, not a leader.

Ro’s heart wasn’t aromantic; she just grew to believe romance wasn’t meant for her. The people she loved died—although that wasn’t a rarity among the fey, so that wasn’t the trouble—it was more that she tended to kill them. It was more that she herself was unlovable, or made herself that way to make all of it easier. And that it was: easier. Easier to not invest, to not attach. Most days, it didn’t even bother her. She had a heart, somewhere; she just authentically preferred not to use it. To not let anyone get too close. So she couldn’t ruin them or disappoint them or kill them. Romance was complicated; it was like the links between observation and thoughtfulness had atrophied inside Ro’s mind. She noticed what people liked, but no longer considered what to do about it. She wasn’t here to make friends or relationships; lovers were easy.

Ivy looked at her the way anyone wanted to be looked at; it wasn’t love on Ro’s mind that made her lean in. It was camaraderie and the interest in Ivy’s job and, of course, her sense of humour and that she was easy on the eyes. A one night stand was all she could offer the woman if it ever came up, but first thing was first: “Me shouting obscenities and pointers doesn’t count as interference?” Ro asked, very skeptically. She knew the history between Peridot and the Overseers and was hesitant to get involved. Ro frowned when Ivy assessed Sean as not quite ready for the Elite 5 and replied, “Well, shit. And he was my top pick for who would take all. Guess I have to go adjust my bets. Was hoping he’d be our champion this year.” After all, he’d only spent his whole life in the realm, training since 13. She’d done worse before then.

Ro waved a hand when Ivy spoke about drinking on the job. “I’m always on the fucking job, you know? So whatever I do, I do full time.” She laughed at that, realizing she and the job were one and the same, and so whatever she did was part of the job description, and whatever the job required of her was who she inevitably became. “You’re right, Ives,” Ro conceded. “Real intimacy is between just two people. So I suppose I was referring to the fake kind, where I get to drown my loneliness pretending to relate to other people in a crowded room instead of by myself in my stark apartment,” and that last bit was said with a laugh that was all sharp edges, something between defiance and self-deprecation. “Shit, even Danu knows I’m fucked at intimacy. At least the feelsy kind.” Then she winked, her insinuation plain.

A soft smile tugged at Ivy’s lips as Rowan moved closer. She didn’t know what it was about the fey that made her like this, but that was simply how it was. It was how it had been for some time. Whenever she was around Rowan, the ice around her heart froze, the iron gate over her heart swung open, her soul sung, screaming to be heard and loved and held. She saw something in Rowan, perhaps a bit too much of herself. And she had to remind herself at times like this that simply reaching across the bar and pulling her in for a sudden kiss probably wasn’t the best move in order to try to show her affection.

She wasn’t sure what was the right move though. It had been so long since she’d been in love. The gears ground through rust covering trying to remember. She’d shut herself off from it. And was a feyry courtship any different from a human one? She didn’t have any idea. She also had no idea if Rowan would even be interested. Maybe her own lost love and ruined things for her as much as Pearl had for Ivy. Or maybe her power and status would put her far out of arm’s reach. She was never quite sure. All she knew was that anything she could do or say to make in lean in just a couple inches further...she was going to do it.

“Well, I mean, it might, but as long as you’re helping them and not hurting them...” Ivy gave a casual shrug. “I don’t see the hurt.” It would probably be beneficial really, having more people train them. If of course they were people who knew how to train. But Ivy was fully confident that Rowan would lead them no less astray than she would. She knew it could be a gray area to bring others into the training room. She wouldn’t push it. But an excuse to spend more time with Rowan certainly wasn’t a bad thing. “He could be. He has the potential.” And she knew that he did. She also wasn’t completely positive he would win this round. Which was exactly why she’d prefer it wait a couple years. Or not at all. She’d fought so hard not to care about him. But it had never quite worked. “More time would give him better odds though.”

Ivy laughed lightly and shook her head. It was true, any other the other employees, Ivy would be riding for drinking. But she didn’t mind as much when it was Rowan. When a nickname slipped out of the fey’s lips a slight blush crossed her cheeks. It meant nothing. Surely it meant nothing. But then again... “Well I’ve never been a fan of the lonely kind of intimacy. I like all the other kinds. Maybe the feelsy kind most. Though whether you mean emotionally feelsy or touching up...” Ivy’s grin was just as devilish. Feeling emboldened, she let her fingers brush against Rowan’s arm, “well let’s just say I can be good at both.”

[overseerivy-blog]

“Forty-nine is not that cold Sean. Not to New York natives.” She rolled her eyes playfully at him as she took her seat. Ivy loved the rooftop of Azul. She loved rooftops in general. There was something so freeing about them. She loves morphing into her little sparrow self and flitting off to the heights. “Well I like it up here,” she said softly, looking out over the city before turning back to Sean. “Your last training went pretty well. Planning to make it to the Elite 5 this time around?”

when: april 10 2018 where: azul cafe who: @overseerivy

“You know it’s like… forty-nine degrees right now, right?” Sean asked as he reached the table Ivy had picked out from them. It wasn’t an unbearable cold, but it was crisp and sharp       especially on the rooftops where they were currently. Even if he’d grown up in a colder climate, Sean had grown significantly used to the city’s weather. He dropped into the seat opposite her, long legs crossing at the ankles so that he didn’t spread over onto her side of the table. “Nice views and all, but still.” 

[overseerivy-blog]

[overseerivy-blog]

Location: Azul Cafe Open to @ofperidot​

By the time Ivy found the tiny egg sitting on the roof top of the cafe, Ivy was at her wit’s end. Some of them had been easy--like the one for the pier, that had been a dead give away--but some of these put her knowledge to the test. And honestly if the Clan knew more about feyry culture than Ivy did...she wasn’t sure if that said more about her or more about the Clan. Ivy read the hint and let out a sigh. There were so complicated. Normally she liked stretching out her brain, but this one was just frustrating. Especially when prizes were on the line. Her competitive streak was coming out hard. She wanted to win. When she saw Peridot coming up, Ivy just held up the egg and rolled her eyes at the other Unseelie fey. “What on earth does underground music meant? These clues are insane.”

[overseerivy-blog]

fuisecg:

          Lark counted in the span of moments that passed before the other spoke, piecing together her own words as if to remember them despite them being her own. She never knew fully what was spoken out loud and what was caught up in her own mind, twisting a piece of hair between her fingers to ensure her casual nature rather than the seriousness that was felt beneath the surface. “Would you think that I’d survive?” She wanted an honest answer, one that didn’t have to be her own when she knew how little her own self preservation was, hitting an all time low. “I miss her. She would know what to do,” came her own reply, shifting into the softer space of the conversation that had been allowed in without the need for a song. It was awfully refreshing, one that shouldn’t have been when so many came to Lark in hopes of feeling everything that she could give them, not realizing what it took in the same breath. “Hmm, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll snack on something,” she mused as she glanced around for someone who wasn’t there. Disappointment ran across her face, not spotting Aster or the elixir that he was sure to be pocketing as she tapped her fingers back down against the counter. “Or not.”

“I don’t know,” this time she didn’t have to think about it. She could veil her answers in feyry double speak, but there really wasn’t any point in it. Larkspur deserved the honest truth. “I haven’t seen you fight. And even if I had, that doesn’t always matter. What you fight for, how hard you’re willing to fight, that often matters much more than skill.” She looked at Lark and tilted her head. “I could train you some. If you’re interested. Self-defense skills are never bad to have.” Ivy’s face grew more serious and she looked down at the bar as they discussed their families. Ivy tried so hard not to think about them. Leaving them behind was the only regret she had about becoming a Player and a fey. “Yeah,” her voice was soft as she agreed, but tried to move past it. It wasn’t something that needed brought up. “You look pretty upset at the idea of eating. Our cookstaff isn’t that bad you know.”

LARKSPUR STARTER

[overseerivy-blog]

[overseerivy-blog]

The Knights & their Pawns; past & present

“Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face; tell me that you love me, even if it’s fake.”

Pearl Fairbank + Gale Carter Ivy Fairwind

Sorrel Fairwind + Bette & Davey Ventura

Hyacinth Fairfield + Elise Savalia

@overseerivy | @knight-in-shining-armani | @hyacinthieum | @elise-senfuit

[overseerivy-blog]

lcaricn:

“Oh, trendsetter,” he teased, eyeing the chain around her neck. Aster knew perfectly well what an irritant the iron in their steel rings can be and if she asked, he would have said he’d done the same thing she was doing countless of times, especially when he had been abroad. “See, the thing with mermaids is that all you have to do is ask.” A languid nod at the open waters. “But most of the time it’s just the water fey dicking around with gullible humans. We breathe underwater.”

“Oh I hardly doubt that,” Ivy said a bit softly for her usually loud personality. Not being able to wear her ring at all times was a weakness to her. It marked her as horribly not fey. Most of the fey could just deal with it. But to Ivy it became an irritant that caused a headache she just couldn’t manage at times. “I only have to ask? Hmm. You’d better not be lying to me about that Aster.” She smiled up at him with a light laugh. “Oh now don’t tell me that. Next thing I know I’ll find out my fantasy mermaid is really Gale.”

[overseerivy-blog]

daveyventura:

You don’t seem dumb.

It was that, more than anything, that caught Davey’s attention even through his anger, because quite frankly, he’d grown accustomed to people thinking that he did seem dumb. Part of him had even come to believe that, to some extent, but he knew what he was good at and he knew what he wasn’t and he liked himself just fine. But it was a surprise all the same to hear Ivy call him – not dumb. 

Especially if she was going to continue lying to him. Or not lying, because – right. Fey couldn’t lie. Only something had to be going on here. His eyes held hers, confusion reading clear as day as he struggled to wrap his mind around the impossibility of what she was telling him. That she didn’t know Bette. That she remembered every single one of her players, but she didn’t know Bette. Bette, who had played for the Unseelie last year…or so Sorrel said. 

Forest’s words played through his mind on a loop: Sorrel’s not your friend. You need to be careful. He’s not who you think he is. 

Could it be…?

No. “No.” Davey didn’t realize he’d said it out loud, barely recognized his own voice, hard and cold as it was. Fey couldn’t lie; but that didn’t mean Ivy was right. It just meant she believed she was. Maybe she had forgotten Bette, and she’d forgotten that she forgot it. There had to be something. Because if Ivy was right, if Bette never played for the Unseelie – 

Then what what he even doing here at all?

Anger worked its way back across his face. “Yeah, sure, and I should trust you?” He spat back at her, though his expression faltered for half a second. How long had he known Sorrel, before he trusted him? Davey pushed the thought aside and looked Ivy in the eye again, resolute. This was different. Sorrel never had anything to gain from him. Ivy, though? Of course she wanted Davey to doubt the very people he was supposed to trust. “All you Unseelie think you’re so smart, don’t you, fucking with peoples’ heads?” First Bette, now him. Only Davey wasn’t going to fall for it. 

“Screw you,” the words were laced with all the venom he could muster, punctuated by his foot striking the side of the elevator again with another loud clang as he turned away from her, folding his arms tightly over his chest as he leaned against the back of the elevator, wishing for nothing more than to pass the rest of this blackout in silence. 

She could see the wheels turning in his head. The mix of pain and anger. Ivy wondered if it was how her face had looked when she had looked up to see Pearl with someone else. When she had learned everything surrounding her own years of training had been all for nothing. That it had been a lie. Her heart had shattered. She had been in far too deep to see the problems her self, to realize what Pearl was doing do her.

She felt bad for him, she really did. She understood how he felt. He deserved better than this. Everyone did. She did her best to keep her Players fighting for real reasons, true reason. It was why she was so emphatic about Ellie opening her eyes to the fact that Hyacinth was so clearly lying to her about why she should fight. Letting Knights get away with murder--quite literally in her opinion--never sat well with her. If Players wanted to put their lives on the line and fight for whatever they chose to fight for, that was their choice. But it for be their choice, they should be able to fight for the things they believed in. Not for lies fed to them by the feys manipulating their lives. 

He didn’t fully believe her, didn’t trust her. And honestly, she couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t have believed a word out of Coal’s mouth. It was only right that he be skeptical. But for some reason that made it even harder on her. She knew the truth, she could show him the lie he was caught in. But he wouldn’t ever listen to her. And even if he did, what then? It wasn’t like she could save him from it past telling him to throw his game. Once they signed the contract, it was already too late to save.

“No. You shouldn’t trust me. Not if you’re smart. If you’re smart, you don’t trust anyone.” And that was what Ivy’s life now fell down to, wasn’t? She didn’t trust anyone. Because everything had fallen apart the last time she did. “You don’t know much about feyry culture yet, do you? Unseelie solve problems with actions. It’s Seelie who tend to use their words.” She let out a sigh, fingers tapping against her knee. “And just because fey can’t lie, doesn’t mean they tell the truth.”

[overseerivy-blog]

danicacastillo:

Danica, once again, found herself on her back. Breathing heavily and in pain. Frustration coursed through her veins, but it didn’t burn her like the last time. Instead, finding a steady breath of air, Danica let it ease away, allowing herself to feel how she feels in this very moment and remember it for next time so that it wouldn’t happen again. Suddenly, Ivy gets off her and Danica get to her knees without so much as a small moan; she can feel the bruises stretch across her skin. Pain punctuated with every movement. The, she gets to her feet just in time to be handed a pair of knives. Danica doesn’t take them at first. She’s only stunned at the gesture. She believed she wasn’t going to be able to bring weapons home. Given, these weren’t the ones she wanted, but it was a start. That’s all she needed.

It was also a sign that Ivy believed in Danica. Right now, Danica let herself feel that too. Gratitude and admiration.

“Thank you, Ivy. I appreciate the opportunity.” Her eyes lift to her Overseer, then her chin follows. “You won’t be disappointed.” She responds confidently as she takes the weapons into her hands, and with a nod, Danica moves off the mats towards a line of cloth hanging on the wall. She places one knife down on the bench in order to strip a towel down. The woman presses the fabric against her neck, applying pressure to the wound. While staring at the wall, her eyes go unfocused. The other knife she holds in her hand tightly, just in case Ivy tried something. So that she would be ready.

But now that she wasn’t moving, now that she wasn’t thinking about her next move in outplaying her trainer, Danica has been pulled into her thoughts…

“How do I do it, Ivy?” Danica asks softly into the silence. She turns and pulls the starch white towel away from the wound, the blood on the fabric was a dramatic contrast. “How do I go through with murdering the others?” There’s no real way to pinpoint the exact tone Danica uses. Perhaps, lost, was one way to describe it. Confused, as well. She looks up at Ivy, searching. “Mateo is my top priority. Always. Nothing is going to change that.” She explains firmly, not wanting Ivy to think she was having second thoughts.

“How am I supposed to murder people younger than myself, kids,” Davey. “when I lived a life dedicated to helping people less than a year ago?” The thought made Danica feel sick. She gripped the hilt of the blade tightly. “There’s no justification in this… I’m potentially taking away lives – Innocent lives… Taking away innocent lives and trading them for another.” Danica slips the knife between her yoga pants, the blade cold against her skin. She rings her hands together momentarily before the nail of her left thumb presses into the flesh of her right palm. “How am I supposed to evolve into something I was never supposed to become?” Now Danica’s tone is undeniable calm as she asks the question coolly, despit her hands giving a different vibe.

Ivy watch Danica closely. This meant so much to her. Maybe too much. She was one of the rare cases where it was a good thing the battle was to the death. If Danica lost the trials, Ivy wasn’t sure she’d be able to survive even if she was allowed to. This meant everything to her. It was her greatest strength and largest weakness. It would be what drove her to win or what made her collapse under the weight of the pressure. 

Ivy let out a light sigh and followed the younger human. As Danica grabbed a towel, Ivy pulled open the drawers full of first aid items and pulled out cause, a bandage, and tape. Neck wounds weren’t the easiest to bandage, but Ivy had more than enough experience on just about every wound type by now. She gently removed the towel from Dani’s neck as the girl talked and started methodically wrapping her neck, tightly enough to have pressure on the cut, but loose enough there would be no problem breathing and little mobility limitations. 

“You just do.” It was a complication she had come to early on herself. She was raised strictly Christian. The dawn of her life was during the days that humans cried for peace. She loved poetry and flowers and nursery rhymes. Though it came so easy and natural to her once she gave in, she would have never believed herself capable of murder. She meets Danica’s eyes, firmly but with a warmth behind them. “There’s no method. You just do it. Because you don’t have another choice. Maybe for you, you imagine they’re the cops that busted your brother. Or the boys who turned him in. Or the judge that sentenced him. You find a way. Because without it you and Mateo both wind up dead.”

It was blunt boarding on cruel, but Ivy knew Danica could take it. Anything other than brutal honesty wouldn’t do her any favors and Ivy didn’t see any sense in it. She wouldn’t coddle her. “Your justification is Mateo. It’s saving him. It’s setting things right for him. It’s reuniting your family who’s already been through enough. And honestly? It’s a hell of a lot more worthy than what most people are fighting for. Money. Power. A good job. To be fey. That’s what most of the people will be on that field for. And they’re all a lot lesser goals than yours Danica. You have good reasons to fight. You just have to be willing to fight for them.”

Ivy shakes her head slowly. So rarely did the Players think they were meant for this. The good ones were all wrong. “It’s not what you think you were meant to be. But you’re here anyway. Fate sealed your story a long time ago. So are you going to deny it and falter or accept it and thrive?” Ivy asked turning to look at her with a challenge in her eyes yet again.

[overseerivy-blog]

ofperidot:

At her mention of Mal, Peridot tensed, eyes growing uncharacteristically chilly as they set upon Ivy. Rationally, she knew there was truth to her words. One day, they would be gone. Life would turn without them. But it wasn’t a future Peridot wished to usher in. Plus, only a few decades their junior, Mal’s demise meant her own. And, having growing used to being practically immortal, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Although her instincts were to squirm, she forced herself to remain static - to chill. Perhaps this was payback for her comment about the games. If so, Peridot - reluctantly - felt a little impressed. Hit me where it hurts. “It’s poor taste to speak against your seniors.” She shot back, seeking to remind Ivy of her very recent arrival. “Besides, a lot can happen in a century or so.” At that, she couldn’t help but smirk - giving the illusion that Peridot knew something she didn’t. Which, to be fair, was true.

At least her next words were easier to stomach, Peridot unable to help herself being drawn into Ivy’s argument. Damn, she’s good. Little bit nosy. Rough around the edges. But that’s youth for you. Not for the first time, Peridot pondered what an excellent addition she would make to their rebel cause. She’d find a way to slip it into conversation with Jasper. “You mistake me for someone who has a perspective beyond me, myself and I.” Her selfishness was hardly a trait she kept hidden, or felt shame for. Breaking into sardonic applause, Peridot laughed. “Eloquently put. Here’s another question.” Leaning in, her eyes glimmered. “What would you do? If you were calling the shots?”

As a rule, it seemed the fey never reacted well to the reminder that they weren’t immortal after all. Ivy should have known that by now. She did know that by now, but hadn’t thought about it before speaking to Peridot. Ivy didn’t like the idea of Mal dying. He was the closest thing she had to a connection here. But all life ended in death. It was an inescapable fact that living as a human for thirty-some-odd years had made far too apparent. “I’m not speaking against Malachite. I’m just speaking the truth. I thought that was something fey were supposed to value,” Ivy said evenly. Ivy knew she was young. She knew too she wasn’t really fully fey. They were things she couldn’t shake no matter how much she wanted to. “Sure a lot can happen. But we have to make sure it happens, plan for it. Make sure that the things that happen go in our favor instead of against us.” 

“I don’t think in the midst of unsanctioned murder is the time to be condoning self interested behavior,” Ivy said coolly. The court meant something to her. No, she didn’t entirely fit in here. But she’d never fit in anywhere. The Unseelie court was as close as she got to a place that fit. And she was settling just a little tiny bit more with each passing year even if it still wasn’t quite enough for her. “If I were calling the shots right now? I’d have my most trusted advisors looking into it. I’d want answers and sooner rather than later. It’s the kind of thing that only festers with time. Sure, it’s not an Unseelie that died, but that makes pointing fingers at us all the easier which makes everything that much more fragile. I’d want to be protecting my court.”

[overseerivy-blog]

forcstfire:

It’s not me you have to worry about. It’s your Players. 

Forest didn’t fully grasp what Ivy meant by that, really. Of course he wasn’t particularly worried about Ivy; she would continue to do what she did best, harassing him and her Players, regardless. She could only cut with words instead of knives, and words weren’t all that threatening these days. But his Players, that was an interesting thought. Quinn, who was in this for reasons so similar to his own. Who was just looking to save their family and regain the life they once knew. Davey who was playing for all the wrong reasons, beneath falsehood and delusions. Kaitlin, who played because that was what she was told to do, because it was what she was brought up thinking it was the only thing she was meant for. Forest knew they all had their different reasons for fighting, some better than others. Some that maybe didn’t necessarily warrant risking their lives for. But Forest’s opinion on it didn’t matter, that wasn’t what he was here for. He was supposed to help them get through this hell-storm alive, somehow. 

But they certainly weren’t playing for him. They certainly wouldn’t be dying for him. “Ready to die for me? What the hell kind of game have you been playing?“

All Players fought for themselves, their own motives, that was true. But ultimately, it was an Overseer who pulled the puppet strings on the Fidchell board. The more trust you had built with your Players, the better your chances were. Maybe Forest didn’t see that yet. Maybe he didn’t see all the difficulties laid out before him that he was sure to face. He was in for a life of difficulties. And if he didn’t start to have more of a palate for the  violence that Overseers were steeped in, it would only bring he and his Players down. It was something that had come as second nature to Ivy the moment she started training. Something she embraced for the sake of her players and her own sanity. She wouldn’t have made it this far without it.

“The same game you are Forest. Just with a lot more experience. You’ll see. One of these days, you’ll see,” she said with a casual shrug as though that should explain it all.

[overseerivy-blog]

[overseerivy-blog]

There were just some days that the itch of the ring distracted her rather than making her feel like one of them. Even after all this time, she still hadn’t gotten fully used to it. She looked up at Aster and pulled out a chain from around her neck, the small steel ring dangling from the end of it. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said before looking up at him with the softest of smiles. “And I’ve come here for years hoping to see a mermaid and nothing yet. I think they’re baiting us all along with those rumors.” 

location: pier 62, unseelie territory date: 4th april 2018 availability: ivy ( @overseerivy​​ )

“No feyry ring, today? I don’t suppose you’re gonna be taking a swim.” —to the Unseelie Court, was what Aster had meant but they had a feeling Ivy wouldn’t be too fond of getting soaked especially if she was on her way to attending a training session. “Unless you’re here for the mermaids. But I hear they don’t come out before 7pm.”