Maitos and Avinlor, OCs for @madgodintherain (@thisbackworld)
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Maitos and Avinlor, OCs for @madgodintherain (@thisbackworld)

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2. No Good Deed
Series: Five Ways the Cardhouse Never Touched Avinlor - Masterpost Characters: Belaicy, Avinlor (as Fall); Oskyod (referenced) (a Cardhouse denizen - OC)
-- --
Eighty-six years trapped within a worthless meadow and cut off from any rational communication was adamantly not enough to drive Belaicy mad. Take Sunlets, for example: they had been omnipresent for millennia, and Belaicy had survived with wits tolerably intact, and had outlasted all but the tattered remnants of their civilization.
One did not even have to count it as a full eighty-six years, either: just half a century ago, there had been a spider. Nothing had come of it though. Probably it had been eaten by a bird just as soon as it crept back to whence it had come. In any case, the meadow would defeat itself in the end. Already, the protections around it had prevented brush-clearing fires from roaring through, and the land was becoming forested. Belaicy, though no cultivator of plants by nature or desire, helped as much as possible. Eighty-six years in a worthless meadow was boring.
If Belaicy had been delighted at the approach of another unbounded sentience—the first since the spider—a further assessment rapidly requalified the newcomer as worse than useless. Of course the next being to enter Belaicy's prison would be some Transitional: the shape and pieces of a human, in thrall to some other power and probably possessed of all manner of irritating ideas about debts and obligations. The child came with her own rain.
'It said you were trapped,' she said. The girl plainly meant that the rain had informed her of Belaicy's . . . situation.
'I am confined.'
'You can't get yourself out.'
'Do you propose that a human girl could achieve what I cannot?'
'I am not a human! I am Fall.'
The child's claim was laughable. Belaicy had known, in person or by reputation, Fall, Autumn, Harvest, First Frost, Last Apple, and more Deaths than an army of revenants could shake their bones at. Even so, the child somehow had spoken at least a partial truth. 'I beg your pardon. It has been long since I have had ado with your phase of the year.' Stupid meadow.
The child frowned, perhaps attempting to decide if she were being patronized. 'You can tell,' she said at last.
'Indeed. Your rain and your rot are very distinctive.'
'Thank you. I did them myself. Oskyod thought I meant pretty leaves, but I showed him!'
Belaicy grinned inwardly: a grin full of sharp teeth and acidic hot springs. The child-Transitional might know all the latest fads in interpersonal bonds, but this hint of discord between Fall and her tutor—or sponsor, or patron, or whatever this Oskyod was to her—was all the advantage Belaicy needed. There was no need to fear any form of obligation when Belaicy could take a single frayed strand in another tie and set to unravelling that other binding altogether. It was time to leave this boring, wretched meadow.
'Well, Fall. What possibilities superior to "pretty leaves" do you propose?'
Fall would come up with something: she would have to in order to prove her abilities to herself, if not to her mentor. After that, Belaicy would rip Fall and Oskyod apart, and tear into this Transitional-fostering realm, and . . . somewhere in it might be a way home. Depending on the nature of the realm, it might even count as good destruction.
tagged by @fidelishaereticus
Rules: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic/original/anything!) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence. NEW, AND BETTER RULES BY ME, WESLEY: 1) Post your favorite short excerpt / paragraph / complete thought, 2) it can be any part you like, 3) it does not have to be fiction 4) it does not have to be in English.
From my totally upcoming crossover: Five Ways the Cardhouse Never Touched Avinlor (i.e. crossover of fid’s OCs and mine)
--
'I am not a human! I am Fall.'
The girl's claim was laughable--Belaicy had known, in person or by reputation, Fall, Autumn, Harvest, First Frost, Last Apple, and more Deaths than an army of revenants could shake their bones at--but somehow it was at least partly true. 'I beg your pardon. It has been long since I have had ado with your phase of the year.’ Stupid meadow.
--
p. much everyone I know is already tagged, so.
More Avinlor (and Belaicy) as modified with input from the creator ( @thisbackworld ) - Left: Avinlor dressed for a very particular diplomatic mission, probably in some very finicky fairy court - Right: an example of how Avinlor might more habitually appear - pay no attention to the menace in the background
Five Ways the Cardhouse Never Touched Avinlor (Masterpost)
Or, the great crossover of my OC (and a couple of her associates) with @cardhouseandthecage (by @fidelishaereticus).
The One that Got Away A denizen considers Avinlor for possible Star material.
No Good Deed Canonically, Avinlor somehow gets Belaicy - a very old and very powerful fairy - out of some kind of trap. Here, Avinlor is a young Star when the encounter takes place.
How Fall becomes Autumn Avinlor’s aesthetic as a Star begins to change under the tutelage of her denizen guide.
Concerning Mediators From the diaries of HQ: a new source in Cardhouse studies is discovered.
Yrgenzol The Stars collected and cultivated by Avinlor take on an assignment for the Cardmaster - and encounter some of Jezebel’s troupe along the way. (Contains bonus Logus-bashing.)

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1. The One that Got Away
Series: Five Ways the Cardhouse Never Touched Avinlor - Masterpost Characters: Avinlor, Belaicy (referenced); Logus (a Cardhouse denizen - fid’s); Oskyod (a Cardhouse denizen - OC)
-- --
The child—a youth, really—would be an ideal candidate. She had constructed elaborate ambitions for the greatness she wished to attain, all utterly unsupported by any foundation of a solid plan; yet despite laying out no path of her own, she was at least beginning to realize that her present course would not grant her those ambitions in the manner she desired. Oskyod laughed to himself: the child wanted to be a fairy, insofar as her imagination shaped such beings. Well, Oskyod would have no difficulty with implying how she could have that.
Strictly speaking, the girl was somewhat more mature than the children most denizens selected for their Stars—older, perhaps, though numerical age was not the only factor at work. A more delicate handling was required for individuals beyond the phase of outright childish acceptance, questioning or not,* and Oskyod had long since perfected this art. Once, he had tried to explain it to Logus:
'The best formula, I find, requires the potential Star to achieve something which they deem significant, but which passes unacknowledged by those around them. A victory followed by a failure, however, is also very promising.'
'How much time must pass between these two key events?' Logus had asked. 'Or, in the case of non-acknowledgement, how long must that state persist?'
'Oh, two to three days is typically ideal, though some require as little as a scant day, and others work best with up to two weeks,' Oskyod had answered.
'But how do you determine the time required for a particular individual?'
'A variety of factors, really: the present mood of the subject; their past experiences with reward and praise; the degree of support network they possess, and access thereto, -'
Logus had interrupted with, 'Your "formulae", colleague, are nothing more than a jumble of undefined variables.' Oskyod had shrugged and let him depart, thinking Logus' disinterest was for the better after all: at least this way neither was competing with the other for potential Stars. In truth, Oskyod's fine technique owed a great deal to the fact that (were he to acknowledge it) he recognized a great deal of himself in the candidates he selected. In this regard, his methods were identical to Logus' procedures and calculations.
This present specimen, for example, skewed toward the longer end of the scale: she had only one close confidante and a handful of acquaintance-friends. Moreover, she was already somewhat accustomed to her skills passing disregarded within her circle. For his part, Oskyod was not much impressed by the trick of talking to the rain, having picked up some facility in that realm himself, and seen others engage in it countless times. He would, however, be a fool to disregard it as those about the child did—some through ignorance, others through disinterest in obscure matters (the greater fools, they). Nigh on two weeks should be ideal to begin the process of courting this future Star.
Twelve days later, Oskyod reflected ruefully that he had never even considered the possibility of losing the girl to anything non-human and not of the Cardhouse. She did not have her dreams, but someone else had given her a sort of power: it was a little like confidence that she would attain her dreams, and a lot like some tangible thing that she had found, more real than wishes and good enough to supplant them. Oskyod no longer had anything of note to offer her, and he suspected he would quickly find himself in some sort of territory war if he tried.
-
*In Oskyod's limited experience with the younger candidates, he had noticed that the convictions and cunning of the children who questioned a denizen provided a significantly different material to work with than did the unchallenging faith of those who asked about little or nothing. Oskyod did not care for either overmuch, but he particularly disliked the former: the children who doubted were too like his own prefered candidates, yet not quite the same, so that Oskyod often found himself either flying far beyond what their intellects could grasp, or else earning their disdain when he oversimplified some explanation. The others at least followed where he led, and though some denizens considered them overly-malleable, Oskyod could manage a deft enough handling to not utterly ruin the product.
3. How Fall becomes Autumn
Series: Five Ways the Cardhouse Never Touched Avinlor - Masterpost Characters: Avinlor (as Fall); Oskyod (a Cardhouse denizen - OC)
– –
The Star had been very adamant at first that she was Fall, even with the inevitable clarification that she was the season, thank you, not someone tripping and landing on their face. She was, moreover, not the whole season. Fall was the rainy part, after the bright leaves and the harvest festivals, and before the frost stung in the air, clear and bright and cold. Fall was soggy.
Oskyod had to admit, Fall was much better with her presence than one would expect from somebody who actually chose to manifest as a victim of gravity. All the same, the power of dreariness was at least half a step off from anything truly useful to the Cardhouse, and considerably further from proper Star material. He congratulated himself on steering her away from her first attempt at a revised aesthetic—Decay could be cute in a new recruit, but was hopelessly out of fashion for any properly refined appearance. With a little persuasion and some judiciously curated examples however, Fall, the soggy, became Fall, the early nightfall and heavy rain that keeps people indoors staring morosely out their windows. This was not perfection, by any stretch of imagination, but it gave the girl more taste for real power, and Oskyod had no doubt that he would push her through to the other side of the window in good time: to cozy blankets and hot drinks and granting or refusing of hospitality.
4. Concerning Mediators
Series: Five Ways the Cardhouse Never Touched Avinlor - Masterpost Characters: Avinlor; HQ (everyone’s favorite post-unreliable narrator - fid’s); Oskyod (referenced) (a Cardhouse denizen - OC)
– –
Some Year Some Place Dear Diary, I suspected, of course, that I might find a free human with knowledge of the Cardhouse, but I never anticipated that they would be a mediatory.* The Cardhouse doesn't negotiate its connections with Reality: it manages them. Nonetheless, the Cardhouse used a mediatory once. It would be more illuminating, of course, if the mediatory had had dealings with that fairy, but naturally this is too much to ask for. Her primary contact was a denizen who calls himself Oskyod - seriously, who uses Oskyod anymore? It's like Geoffrey. Or Parzival. I can't tell if he's that old or just that deep into his aesthetic. Probably the latter, really: he apparently does a line in useless interests, like stupid outdated names. Fuck Oskyod Oskion.*** You know what's funny, diary? (It's not funny: it's horrifying.) If he'd been looking in the right place, Oskion might have picked up Avinlor (that's the mediatory, btw). She thought she was useless once, that what she cared about didn't matter and would never matter for anything. I bet Oskion's good with liberal arts majors. Anyway, some other fairy picked up Avinlor instead, and that's probably its own shit show, but mediatories tend to be shit shows. What did she mediate, you ask? Does it matter? Something between the Cardhouse and Reality and some other fairies: half property dispute, half possibly broken contract. Truce achieved, everyone equally happy: Reality (if only it knew enough to appreciate it) wins in the short term, but a loophole is left for the Cardmaster to exploit in the future, and the other fairies are none the wiser. Whoops, you say, that looks like a mistake (ok, I said that). No, no mistake, Avinlor says. Tidy it all up, she says, is the true objective of a mediatory. Sometimes that means fairness and justice all around; sometimes that means leaving everyone satisfied, insofar as their wits are able to grasp it. Take them all out on Thursday, I say. Mediatories are garbage. - *That was a typo, diary, but I like it better than the traditional mediator. Mediator is, in any case, a fake tradition. Mediatories have no tradition.** **This is why I will never be one. This is why I am afraid I am already one. ***Better yet, fuck his pretentious name bullshit. He can take something modern like everyone else.