Fate - First Reply Returning to the Winter Court

[Joseph Meier]

If they had seen him coming, they would have done something.

That was always the idea, wasn’t it? To hide the shame of the fae courts far away from anywhere it could pop up and embarrass someone. So far, Joseph had done them a favor by staying away. He had been back home in Floiland drinking himself under a table. Angry, alone, full of magic and hatred so deep it was etched into his bones.

He had gained the title of a High Lord from his wife, now deceased. Before, he hadn’t wanted it. He had wanted nothing to do with the Courts and their pettiness. He’d been so focused on the survival of his family that the Courts had seemed so inconsequential.

Now they were gone.

Joseph walked through Underhill looking like a man who had just walked out of a horse barn, and not a High Lord. He wore well made, if plain, brown trousers. His boots were specially made to fit around the steel brace on his twisted left foot, but were worn and hadn’t been polished. His linen shirt might have been expensive once…if it hadn’t had to suffer on a farmer’s washboard. Only his vest and jacket, a deep earthy brown, were of decent repair.

The man himself was a few inches under five feet, with large bruised eyes and high, sharp cheekbones. His ears were large, and his hair swept back and cropped close to his skull. He was thin as a whisper, less than a hundred pounds, but that small drop of a man contained enough magic to rival Mab herself.

He stuck out in Underhill like a sore thumb. Even more so when guards bowed to him as he passed. The name of Joseph Meier, once Joseph Amsel, wasn’t unknown in this town.

It wasn’t unknown in the Winter Court.

By gods, it would be known again when he began collapsing them from the inside.

 

[Jago Rhys]

The Hound, Spear of the Sluagh was here on business. He was intent on getting in and out, even if they other fae made it impossible. They all tried to stop him, question him. It made him all the more moody and angry. More so than usual, and he had an itch to take it out on the next fae that so much as looked at him wrong.

He was dressed in all black, form fitting vest and pants with black boots to match. His golden eyes scanned the alleyway he strode down, a habit of mistrust he would never shake. His long hair was left free, and flowed behind him as he walked with intent.

Once again, he was stopped. With a growl of frustration, the towering shuck hauled the servant fae up by her neck and pressed her against the wall. "When I say leave me the fuck alone, I mean it. Don't talk to me, don't touch me. Is that too hard for you to understand?" He was speaking as if in general. It seemed he couldn't move without someone running into him.

He dropped the trembling fae and she took off at a run. He curled his hands into a fist, his body trembling from the rage that he witheld. When will they get the picture that he was not one to trifle with.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph paused in the street to ferret around in his coat. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, shaking out the match. The fae preferred their high quality tobacco that smelled like sugar and clove. Joseph had smoked Floiland grown and sun-dried tobacco for forty years, and he wasn’t about to stop now. It was acrid, and about as smooth as the street, but it was home on his tongue.

Home that was promptly knocked out of his mouth as a girl bolted out of the alleyway and struck him. Joseph wasn’t a tall creature; under five feet and less than a hundred pounds. She not only knocked the cigarette out of his mouth and into a nearby puddle, but almost bowled him over.

“For fucks sake!” Joseph snarled, shooting the retreating girl a nasty expression and reaching for another in his pocket. What had she been running from? He peered into the alley she’d bolted out of. Of course, always some hulking asshole. “That how you get your dick hard these days, hm? Beating up little girls?” He growled at the other man. “Usually it’s your type who measure cock size with a seeing-glass. Cut it the fuck out.”

Jago Rhys

 

[Jago Rhys]

The smell of tobacco hit his nose first, and Jago curled his lip up at acrid smell. He had no intent on finding its source until a voice was hear, just begging for him to to respond. He straightened to full height and began a slow and meaningful walk to where the voice had come from.

Jago slipped from the shadows to address the voice, towering above the other fae. He looked down with a malicious grin and a tilt to his head. Sharp canines reflected in the light as golden eyes studied his potential new prey.

"And who do we have here? A champion of the little fae girls? Need all the help you can get is it?" He laughed, deep and dangerous eyes never leaving the fae before him. "Maybe it's best you keep your thoughts to yourself. Never sure who you're provoking after all."

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph watched the other stalk out of the shadows. He reminded him of Rheinhard Volker’s father…a sadist, wanting to intimidate for the sole reason he could. Nothing there but violence. Joseph didn’t move. He didn’t show fear, or cower. He met those golden eyes with his own brown ones. “Boy, I have laid enough pipe to build you a sewer for all the shit you’re spewing.” Joseph growled, folding his skinny arms across his chest.

“I’d take your own advice, and quick, before I neuter you like a bad pup. You going to behave on the streets of Underhill or am I going to have to teach your carcass a lesson?” Joseph eyed the other up and down. He really didn’t know who he was dealing with, was he? The only brag in Arethil? High Lord of the Winter Court, and the only man to hold that title as a former human? He thought his name was well known enough around Underhill. Perhaps he’d strayed from the fae wilds too long.

 

[Jago Rhys]

Jago let another rumble roll from his chest. A deep and dangerous laugh. The smaller fae did not show fear, did not cower. It was refreshing in an infuriating way, and it made him want to punch the smaller fae square in his smug face.

"I'd like to see you attempt it." He grinned with malicious intent, but remained in the same space he was already in. He was confident, and mean. He overshadowed most of his other cousins when if came to power, and he used it frequently to put them in their place. "Tell me then, why should I listen and behave? Hm?"

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph inhaled deeply, and blew smoke into the shuck’s face. “Because you haven’t a clue what the hell I am. Or who the hell I am. I didn’t earn the title of High Lord for nothing boy. I skinned three members of the Sluagh alive during the last Wild Hunt for irritating me. I can become your best friend or worst nightmare.” He growled, and shifted. His body stretched upward, and he became an identical copy of the man in front of him.

He leaned inward, blowing smoke in his face again. “So either we can get a drink and talk or Ill make someone a new window. Your choice.”

 

[Jago Rhys]

Jago lifted the corner of his lip in a snarl at the man's words. He had heard of his brethren being slaughtered on the hunt, and though he hadn't been present this year it still filled him with anger.

The only thing keeping him in check was the man's title. The only thing that kept the shuck from tearing him limb from limb. He bullied the other shucks, but he would never murder them for pleasure. The shifting fae did little to impress him. He studied his mirror image a snarl still on his lips. "If I could get away with it, I'd rip you apart. Not just for my own pleasure, but for my cousins you saw fit to slaughter."

He slowly unfurled his fists. High fae, he could not get away with killing. He had to entertain them, lest his Erlking had something to say about it. For Midir at least, he'd behave. "Fine. A drink." He snapped the words, his eyes narrowing as he continued to stare down his own golden eyes.

 

[Joseph Meier]

“I enjoyed slaughtering your fellow Sluagh and I’d do so again in a heartbeat. But you’ll follow me, because I outrank you and because I asked. Hm? Good puppy.” Joseph smirked at him with his own face, then let the form go. He chewed on the end of his cigarette and gestured for the shuck to follow him. He stopped at a small noodle shop, The Lunar Tiger. It was one of his old haunts from before he had become a lord, and he was happy it was still here.

The shop was run by two fae with multiple arms, Abhi and Atol. “Long time no see, doll.” Atol said with an easy smirk, perching one of her hands on her hip. “Amer and Abhi were convinced you were dead. Who’s the tall drink of water?”

“A brat.” Joseph stubbed out the cigarette on his hand and stuffed it into his pocket, taking a seat at his usual chair. “My usual, and a bottle of whiskey. Beef for him.”

“Fish ramen, beef ramen, vegetable curry, and miso coming up.” Atol winked. “And another bowl for your friend.”

“Not a friend, just a dumb pup who tried tangling with me on the street.” Joseph put his jacket over his chair and settled into it with a smile at Atol. She laughed, and wandered into the back with his order. Ah, he’d missed this place.

 

[Jago Rhys]

Jago snorted as the fae needled him, if it had been any lesser of a fae he'd be eating his teeth. Though he couldn't take his aggression put on the asshole in front of him, he did have a fee punching bags at home he couldn't wait to get his hands on.

"The only reason I backed off was because I am loyal to my Erlking. Not because of your attempt at intimidation." Still he followed the smaller fae, his muscular frame and height dwarfing most of the other fae they came across.

As they reached what he assumed was the destination, Jago could still feel his blood boiling. He would have a talk with Midir over the slaughter of his brethren. The fae brought him to a noodle shop and he curled his lip in distaste.

At Joseph's remarks, he nearly pounced on the fae. Only the greatest of restraints kept him from doing so. He refused a seat, instead he leaned against the wall, his golden eyes narrowed as he watched the other fae. "Why bring me along? You have no need of me."

Joseph Meier