#cotae

It seemed almost surreal how everything had turned from a happy, fun party to bloody nightmare in so many seconds. She had stopped to marvel at the ice statue in front of her, amazed at how real it looked and how much talent someone must have had, and slightly uncomfortable from the memories it stirred up. Clara would not be a victim of her memories, and she wasn't going to let herself avoid anything just because of what might pop up. She had just turned away from the statue surveying the crowd to see where the Doctor had wandered off to when the doors swung open revealing the worst party-goers in the world. She didn't know that though until they started shooting and hurting people in the immediate vicinity as them.

Everything after that turned into chaos. People were running. Things were being pushed and thrown across the room. Guns were going off. Blood was splattering everywhere. Clara had ducked down once the guns had went off, feeling the cold coming from the ice stature beside her. Someone was running, but he tripped, crying out for help, holding his wounded side. She moved quickly, pulling him out of harm's way and back to the statue. She hadn't the foggiest how she managed that, but she didn't have the time to really think about it. 

"Please... please help me." He sobbed. 

Since Angie's phone had nearly exploded in Clara's hand, Angie had been using her phone so Clara didn't have any way to call for help. From what she had heard, however, was that no one was getting any service anyway. "We just got to apply pressure, that's all." She said, noticing his wound looked more like a slash than a gun shot. Cursing herself mentally for not bringing a jacket, she put her hands on his wound, applying the pressure. 

"It's bad, isn't it?" The man's question was a struggle to get out, and Clara could see that he looked pale.

"What's your name?" She asked instead, forcing a smile on her face. He didn't need to pay attention to his wound.

"Eric."

"Lovely name, Eric. I'm Clara. It's a shame we couldn't have met on the dance floor, yeah?"

Despite everything that was going around them, there was a small ghost of a smile that appeared on his thin lips. "I'm not a really good dancer." He said before he began to cough.

"Everybody can dance. Tell you what, once you can move without ripping any stitches or anything, we'll have a dance. Would you like that?" She watched as blood began to come out from his mouth.

"Yeah, I'd... I'd like..." He began, his eyes looking at hers for the first time since she began to place pressure on his wound.

"Eric?" Her voice came out soft, and she knew the answer before his name ever left her lips. Her eyes began to burn and her vision became blurry before suddenly a shadow covered the lights. She turned around, eyes blinking quickly to get a good look. Whatever stared back at her, she had no other words for it but alien. There was a coldness to it's eyes as it stared at her. "Why? Why are you doing this?" She asked as she got back to her feet, gesturing with one bloodied hand to Eric.

There was a moment when it looked over at Eric before it raised it's gun at her. She stared at the barrel of the gun for a moment, realizing that she would get no answer, and spun on her heel behind the ice sculpture. The ice seemed to explode behind her and with that she leapt forward, grabbing a nearby chair and with all her might swung the chair at the creature.

"Always fancied a ball. Love dressing up, the pomp and circumstance of it all," The man in the bowtie murmured to himself, his thin frame leaning against the table. His date had gotten lost in the crowd somewhere--something he'd have to tend to eventually, but Clara was his girlfriend, certainly not a child he was babysitting, though his initially instinct in any situation was to protect her. The whole situation with the part had been a little odd, but he tried to brush it off while still keeping himself on his toes. After all, if anything were to happen, he'd be the one to stop it. He was the Doctor, he thought, hands rising to fix his bow tie as the corners of his mouth turned into a smile.

Sigyn walked into the hall alone. Loki knew about their invitation but Sigyn wasn’t sure if he was going to turn up or not. She thought it unwise to try to trap into a definite answer. As for herself, Sigyn wasn’t sure she why she was here. It was unwise, she supposed, to irritate her host who knew her true identity. Still, being here made her nervous. 

Deciding what to wear had also been a chore. Whether or not this was a trap or not had to be considered. Then besides that what was appropriate. Vanir had no concept of winter clothing and all of the dresses Sigyn could conjure were either too cold or would be considered provocative. She had settled on an teal colored dress - combining her and her husband’s colors, that hung off her shoulders in a combination of Aesir and Vanir styles. Being Vanir, Sigyn wore no jewelry other than her wedding ring which she had unspelled. Also she wore no shoes, instead she wore gem incrusted anklets  that spread across the top of her feet and wrapped around one toe that her people wore in place of shoes. Since she was married, her hair was in a braided up-do with little pearl shattered within it. 

We had a Tumblr mishap, and for some reason, last week's event did not post. We sincerely apologize for this delay and any inconvenience it may have caused. 

A mysterious invitation beckons all the characters to a party in celebration of the New Year, conveniently happening on New Years Eve. If you received a Secret Santa, you can ask for who sent it here. 

However, things are not as they appear to be. Dark Elves, an alien species from the planet of Svartalfheim, invade the party halfway through, their sole intent on terrorizing people and spilling some blood. Whether or not your character gets involved, rather being brutally beaten or rushing in to save the day, is up to you.

We request that you will post a starter for this particular event either asking about their Secret Santa or reacting to the sudden attack. 

Your character has been assigned a Secret Santa for an upcoming Christmas event they have been invited to attend, most likely by the same people who put on the Masquerade Ball. This event shall take place next weekend.

Each character will be assigned a Secret Santa through messaging roughly within the next twenty-four hours. Once you receive the name of the character who is your Secret Santa, you must leave them at least one anonymous gift in their askbox for their character. The person receiving the gift may react to opening it, attempt to discover who sent it, or find a practical use for it. Those roleplayers with multiple characters will receive more than one Secret Santa.

If you have any questions, please let us know!

Friday the 13th, the mortals called it an “unholy” day. Though it seemed that any spiritual connotation that had gone with the holiday had vanished over the years. Now, it was just a day people joked about. However on this Friday the 13th it seemed like the past had transported into the present. Sigyn had felt it right away the gates of Hell had been thrown open and all sorts of creatures came poring out. London went to chaos a mere moments later. Acting quickly, Sigyn wove enchantments around the little coffee shop protecting it from the attention of anyone with ill intentions. 

As the day dragged on, Sigyn stayed quietly in her shop waiting for Loki to appear or for things to die down enough for her to go out and track him down. Neither event was meant to be. To Sigyn’s alarm the door opened. 

“Aren’t dark elves supposed to be dead?” She asked, her eyes narrowed as the five elves walked in. Under normal circumstances, no one should have been able to break Sigyn’s enchantment. But Sigyn ran her enchantment at lower power so that Loki could get through. Sigyn realized now that she had left it too weak. 

“Some of the demons,” leered the leader of the group, “Opened the door for us.”

“That still leaves a lot of questions,” Sigyn responded cooly.

“Perhaps, little one, but we have not come to answer your questions but have you answer our questions,” the leader sneered, leaning forward onto Sigyn’s counter. 

“Why would I answer any of your questions?” Sigyn asked stiffly. 

All of the dark elves but the leader unsheathed their weapons, “I see your point,” Sigyn answered lamely, with the pun intentional. 

“Clever, like your husband. Tell me, little princess, where he is?”

“Which one?” Sigyn quipped, “It seems like there are so many Lokis these days, just wondering about. I don’t know to which you refer.”

The leader banged his fist against the table and Sigyn faked a jump, letting him think he intimidated her, “There are only two Lokis. Do not play games with me, little princess! You are not as skilled as your husband! You will tell us the location of both! Both are worth a pretty price.” 

Sigyn’s eyes narrowed. Like Hel she was giving them any information. Did they think her so weak that a handful of dark elves would frighten her? As if sensing her unwillingness the largest of the dark elves approached her menacingly, towering over the little goddess.

Sigyn quivered, “Swear not to harm me.” Her eyes fixing on the large dark elf. 

The leader nodded his head and the large dark elf responded, “I will not harm you, little godling.” 

Sigyn’s lips pulled up and the counter between them exploded, sending the elves flying back but leaving Sigyn unharmed.

“You broke your word!” Exclaimed the first dark elf to spring to his feet. 

“Wrong, I made you no promises,” Sigyn sneered. 

The large dark elf howled and charged only to fall at her feet writhing in pain, “Were you honestly about to break your work to the goddess of loyalty? I am the Incantation Fetter. No one breaks their oath to me and lives.”

All of the elves hesitated to attack the goddess as they watched their strongest member choke on his own breath.

“Now,” Sigyn announced, a terrifying grin upon her pink lips, “A real deal can be proposed.”

“What do you propose, my princess?” the leader asked with strained politeness.

“You will go back to whatever hole you crawled up from.”

“And what will you give us in exchange?” The leader asked in the same strained voice.

“Your lives. And I’d hurry and decide. Your friend as moments before the breath in his lungs strangles him.”

The leader snarled, “They have a little girl fighting their battles now?” He taunted.

“No, I just make sure only people worth their time contact them,” She grinned, responding to his taunt with a taunt of her own. These elves really were nothing but Sigyn was unwilling to let them anywhere near her husband or her friend. It was not in her nature.

“We will not be driven away by Loki’s child-bride! If we have to make you tell us by force, we shall! Attack!” 

The dark elves lunged forward and Sigyn stepped back, chanting a spell under her breath. Before the dark elves reached her, Sigyn’s spell came into a effect. They froze in confusion. Their steps made no noise and fell slowly. When they looked to each-other and asked what had happened, no noise came from their lips though their mouths moved. 

Sigyn, still able to hear, ran past them. The elves did not notice Sigyn’s movements without their hearing and only one spotted her out of the corner of his eye as she rushed away. He took off after her, catching the attention of his comrades who followed in his wake. 

Sigyn was across the street before the dark elf caught her. His arms wrapped around her wrist and he threw her against the wall of a building. Sigyn screamed in pain as she felt every bone in her wrist shatter. He lifted her off the ground by her broken wrist and leered at her in victory. His other hand grabbed her neck and began to choke her. Sigyn kicked weakly, seeing stars as the oxygen was kept from her lungs. Technically, Sigyn did not need air to breath but she had been breathing air her entire life. It would not kill her but it would knock her out until her body adjusted. Sigyn did not want to be unconscious in the presence of these creatures. Her fingers fumbled and pressed forward blindly until they came in contact with her attacker’s face. 

Suddenly all the sound came back to him with magnified force. He shook violently and dropped her. Sigyn fell in a pile and the elf followed her. He rolled on the ground clutching his ears. Sigyn lay beside him, watching with unfeeling eyes. His ears began to drip blood and then he ceased to move. Sigyn crawled to her feet and saw the dark elves. Their eyes were wide with terror as they witnessed the death of their companion. 

Even deaf as they were they charged her with vigor. Their movements were sloppily and unorganized as they lacked all ability to keep balance for long or communicate their battle plans amongst each other. Two stumbled into each other and fell, so that only one of the elves reached Sigyn. He lunged at her with his sword and Sigyn jumped out of the way easily. 

Sigyn’s eyes darted to the two dark elves who were slowly rising to their feet. She kicked a pebble hard at the light post near them. The pebble flew through the light post, causing the post to tumble down, pinning the two elves to the ground. 

The elf battling her lunged forward again, not noticing the outcome of Sigyn’s kick. Sigyn narrowly evaded again. She jumped forward and grasp his hand holding the sword with her own, keeping him from driving it through her. They struggled for a few moments and then Sigyn widened her green eyes. Her golden magic flooded her eyes and her green eyes turned as white as moonstones, even her pupils faded. Whatever the dark elf saw reflecting in her eyes, for even Sigyn did not know, he let out a soundless scream and fell back. 

Sigyn’s eyes returned to normal and she dashed forward. Her foot came down on his neck, snapping it. She turned to the dark elves who had just lifted the lamp post off of themselves. With a snap of her unbroken hand the electric wires went off and electrocuted the dark elves. They fell to the ground dead. 

The deadly luck of Friday the Thirteenth is legendary, and over time, several people have become frightened of the very date. On this particular Friday the Thirteen, a devil's gate has been opened by what witnesses described as a moving angelic statue, and demons have scattered across London in an attempt to cause havoc and incite chaos. 

As usual, we request that you write up a starter that is related to this event. We once again ask for any potential plots you may have for the future, whether directly pertaining to your character or including the overall roleplay.

We are once again noticing a decline in activity. However, we figure that this is normal due to the upcoming hectic holiday season.

The administrators would like to spend this slower time merely figuring out where we would like the direction of the roleplay to go, along with how we are going to find new roleplayers for the plethora of main characters we currently have available. 

Please message us with at least one plot that you would like your character to be involved with in the near or distant future. This can help us construct events that will allow you to get your character to that particular point. If you have any criticisms or comments, you may also feel free to make us aware of them. However, we do ask that you extent courtesy and politeness while doing so. This is a simple action, but it will replace any type of event for the weekend due to the amount of effort the administrators plan to exhibit while arranging and organizing this information. 

We also would like to thank all our current roleplayers for staying with us through this slower time.