#frip

[zackyatthedisco]

Richard Frapp

[spvcemnd]

[starwood-stranded-archived]

Cerys arrives at Clan Lukra, driven by a divine calling to serve the little gods. Her devotion confuses Abrianna and Ammanas, but Frip and Acrux take her in.

“I’ve come to serve the new gods,” Cerys said.

“Very nice,” the purple guardian said absently. “You got your stew?”

“Yes,” Cerys said, holding up a bowl of stew that she’d taken from one of the guardian chef’s beastclan assistants. “When can I see them?”

“Who?”

“The gods.”

Still not really paying attention, the guardian wrinkled her snout. “Well, they say sometimes, if you are very good and pray very much, you might have a vision of the Eleven.”

“I’m not talking about the Eleven.” Cerys was growing impatient. “I’m talking about the newborn gods -- if you do not know of whence I speak, is there someone else whose counsel I might seek?”

The guardian shrugged. “Ammanas will be back soon. Until then, enjoy your stew.”

Cerys’ pride rebelled against being dismissed in such a cavalier manner, and for a moment she thought perhaps she had been wrong to come here. But no: the gods had called her. If their current servants were fools, that offered only more evidence of how badly they needed her.

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[welcomeinmymemories]

[camillerpsr]

je l’ai poussé à l’achat - Kiloshop

août 2017

[starwood-stranded-archived]

After he witnesses Zarya's death, Acrux uses his clairvoyance to identify Barholme as the agent behind Clan Lukra's suffering and chases after him. In dire straits, he finds his life saved by a divine power, which he traces back to the little gods. 

TW: death

Acrux was arguing with Zarya the moment before she died. Neither of their hearts were really in it; Acrux knew that Zarya was only trying to rile him up by not-so-subtly asking about any “deaths in the family,” so he responded coolly. He wasn’t even looking at her in the moment, refusing to give her that much attention; but he still knew the instant she died, because she went quiet, not only to his ears but to his mind as well. Usually Zarya sounded like hunger, and bones cracking, but then she was gone and in her place a void roared in deafening silence. It was everywhere: Acrux couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. Somewhere among the void came a fae’s voice, hissing, A fitting punishment and other such things; that gave Acrux something to cling to, and he recovered himself, hearing screams and crashes from around the lair. That voice … he recognized it suddenly as Barholme’s, knew Barholme for the architect of their misery, and chased after it, taking to the air and hurtling between the trees. If he could catch Barholme, maybe this madness would end. But he couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from; it seemed all around him, centered inextricably in the void that filled the Inner Sanctum entirely.

Barholme! he heard, from Aridatha, and he turned and raced towards her quarters, drawing in his wings so that his sinuous body could pass through the trees. But he was too late. He heard her cry out, heard her call for help, and then he heard her die. Even before he poked his head into Aridatha’s quarters he knew that he could do nothing for her -- nothing but avenge her. He began to search the area for any sign of Barholme. Perhaps he would be of more help elsewhere; he might be able to ease his clan’s suffering instead of avenging it. But the idea didn’t even occur to him. A fire burned in his blood, a rage that Acrux had never truly felt before -- his disgust with Zarya had been but its pale shadow. It would not allow him to stop or hesitate; he would throw himself at Barholme until one of them died, would happily break the fae’s tiny body between his talons and wipe him off the face of Sornieth -- if only he could find him.

<< Chapter 1 | Keep reading >>

[welcomeinmymemories]

[starwood-stranded-archived]

After Achzina receives his official invitation to join Clan Lukra from Ammanas, Frip helps him settle in, introducing him to the other Oracles: Bartos, Nesita, Acrux, and Machine. // read on ao3

“I’ve brought you a letter,” Ammanas said. The ornate scroll he handed Achzina was thicker than Achzina’s own forearm, since he was in his two-legged shift. That made it unwieldy, hard for Achzina to pull open, and the tundra added, “I can tell you what it says, if you don’t mind: it’s an official invitation to join Clan Lukra.”

“Oh, thank you.” Achzina put the scroll down and smiled at Ammanas. So he’d been accepted after all. It wasn’t a surprise; in fact, he’d started to wonder what the holdup was. Barholme had certainly seemed certain that he would be -- certain enough to kill him for. “What should I do now? Head for the Inner Sanctum?”

Ammanas nodded. “Actually, Frip volunteered to show you around. She should be -- ”

“Here?” A figure stepped around the corner: a two-legged shift like Achzina’s, clad in hooded white robes. Her feet tapped against the wooden floor as if she wore heavy boots, though they were hidden under the robes. Achzina wondered, briefly, if she’d been standing just around the corner, listening, waiting for the most dramatic moment to appear.

Ammanas frowned. “Well, I thought you were going to meet us at the gate, but this is good, actually … No offense, Achzina, but as much as I enjoy your company, I do have a lot of other guests to see to.”

“None taken,” Achzina said, automatically. He looked at Frip. Under the hood he could see light glinting off the deep purple crystal of her face; the sight stirred something in his memory. “I thought Elain was the only shape-shifter among your clan?”

“Your clan now, Ach,” Frip said, her tone more informal than Achzina would have expected from a near-complete stranger. And she hadn’t answered the question. “Do you prefer Ach or Achzie? We’re still trying to settle on a nickname for you.”

“I leave you in Frip’s most capable claws,” Ammanas said, leaving with a bow. Achzina would’ve found the words more comforting if Ammanas hadn’t sounded so doubtful on the words “most capable.”

“I’m going to introduce you to the other Oracles, give you a short tour of the lair, and then show you to your quarters,” Frip explained as she walked down the corridor, beckoning Achzina to follow. He did. There was something familiar about her. Now, where had he seen white cloth and crystal scales recently … ?

He didn’t have to think about it very hard. The image had occupied his mind every night since, an unanswered question that weighed particularly hard on him as he contemplated the mantle of Oracle. “You were there, weren’t you?”

“I’ve been many places,” Frip said, deftly navigating a ramshackle ladder in a space that had been built for creatures with wings. Achzina followed more slowly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“That night, when Barholme attacked us,” Achzina clarified, though he suspected that Frip knew exactly what he was talking about. “I saw you at the window when the rift opened.”

“Barholme opened a tear in the very fabric of reality. I wouldn’t be surprised if you saw strange things.”

As a seer, Achzina was used to working out abstruse meanings: his visions rarely gave clear answers, either. “Are you a strange thing, then?”

Frip grinned. “The strangest.”

For a long moment neither of them spoke. On Achzina’s part, he was too busy making his way through Pilgrim’s Rest, which had not really been designed for creatures with only two legs. There was a route, for beastclans and shape-shifters, but it wasn’t the quickest or easiest way around.

“I think I owe you thanks,” Achzina said at last. “I think you saved my life.”

“Now that doesn’t sound like me,” Frip said.

“Nobody knew why the rift closed, but I bet I can guess,” Achzina persisted. “You stopped it, didn’t you?”

“I seem to recall you telling Aridatha you had no idea what closed the rift,” Frip said, glancing sidelong at Achzina. It was true, but how had she known? He had seen no sign of Frip in the audience at Barholme’s trial. Of course, he could have missed her, or she could have received an account later, but it seemed too minor a detail to come secondhand.

“I said I didn’t know what happened,” Achzina replied. It was the same logic he’d used to justify keeping quiet to himself. “I still don’t know, not for sure. I just suspect.”

They’d reached the gates. Frip opened a small door set into them without bothering with a key and ushered Achzina through. Wondering why a clan that didn’t shapeshift would have a door fitted to two-legged forms, and why it’d been unlocked, Achzina stepped through -- but once the door shut behind Frip, it vanished altogether into the smooth surface of the wood, as if it had never been.

Achzina looked to Frip for an explanation, but she only smiled, as if daring him to ask about the mysterious door. He resisted the urge. Yes, yes, we’ve all seen magic before.

“Not like this you haven’t,” Frip said. Achzina blinked, but she had already moved on, heading towards the pool in the center of the Sanctum. “Come on, Achzie. The other Oracles will be waiting.”

I guess she can read minds, too. Achzina followed Frip to the pavilion, which was already occupied. He recognized Machine from his interview, and Bartos the archmage from Barholme’s trial. The pink-winged imperial and purple tundra had been at Barholme’s trial too, but Achzina hadn’t caught their names. They were all in dragon form, of course; it still felt strange for Achzina to see such a gathering of different breeds, the oversized imperial curled around the other dragons.

“You know Machine and Bartos already,” Frip said, a statement that appeared to slightly surprise Bartos. “These are Acrux and Nesita. Nesita’s a gifted healer, and Acrux is clairvoyant.”

“I also read minds sometimes,” said Acrux, the imperial, with a friendly smile. His tone made it clear that he’d heard Achzina thinking about Frip.

“I’m not really an Oracle, but I’ve been able to help some individuals who seek solutions to what ails them,” Nesita said.

“It’s astonishing how many of the answers people seek can be found in established texts, if you only know where to look,” said Bartos, pushing his spectacles up his nose.

Machine said nothing, only looked blankly at Achzina.

“I’m glad to meet you all,” Achzina said. “I understand we’ll be working together. I hope you find my visions helpful.”

“I’m sure we will,” Nesita said.

“Did you get your schedule yet? No?” Acrux apparently didn’t feel the need to wait for Achzina’s answer. “Aridatha will get it to you shortly, I imagine. She usually has us work in shifts.”

“I’ll also be joining you sometimes,” Frip added.

“What are your powers?” Achzina asked, hoping she wouldn’t find the direct question rude. She didn’t exactly seem the type to be easily offended, but there were the others to consider, as well. “And, er, Machine’s?”

“Barely in the building and you’re already asking what we all contribute?” Frip smirked, and kept talking as Achzina tried to protest that that wasn’t what he’d meant at all. “Machine can answer any yes or no question. And I mean any. He can’t communicate otherwise, but he’s still quite useful. As for me … I watch birds and I know things.”

“You’re an augur?” Achzina had met a dragon before who claimed she could tell the future from the patterns of birds flying through the sky.

“No, that’s unrelated to the knowing things bit -- we just like birds. But now that you say that, we really ought to add an augur to the team, oughtn’t we? Better write that down,” Frip said, making no move to do so.

Acrux cleared his throat. “Frip baffles many of us, but she can provide many answers that the rest of us cannot. When she deigns to do so.”

“Right now I think I’m going to deign to show Achzina around the lair,” Frip said, beckoning to Achzina. “Unless someone brought sandwiches to the workplace orientation. I could murder a BLT.”

Achzina raised an eyebrow. The other dragons looked startled and perhaps a bit crestfallen, to have been called out here for such a brief introduction -- except for Machine, who just looked blank. Achzina said, “I’d be honored to continue the tour, Frip.”

“Good, because you don’t have a choice. Now, the hoard is this way … ”