[Beltane] After Party Table

The Mantle hits at the same time as the streaking form—the arch of solar energy heralds Summer's vengeance with a silent thunder that grips everyone's hearts. The Elemental vaults across the table as if he were sliding across the hood of the car, whipping his body to land the combat boots square in Archie's face and chest. They launched as one, the Fairest hitting the pavement while Loki rolls back into a stand, fire roaring from the empty eye as his skin blistered and split to molten charcoal. 

"Hey Slaver," he shouted, throwing down the Vermillion spirit as a gauntlet.


"Time to answer for all the contract extortion and mind games you thought you can get away with!" 

Heads turned, more than a few of the partiers beginning to take out their phones. Among the Freeholders, the slur had obvious connotations: the Summer noble was accusing Archie Hartman of mind control and abuse of the Wyrd over his allies.

The Dancer only had enough time to blink as the familiar burn of one of his older clients blitzes past before he even had a chance to respond. Something deep and buried in his subconscious twisted, a latticework of glittering veins swirling across his mien as he uncontrollably shivered. He was out of his seat in a blur before freezing with unnatural stillness, like a flip was switched. Loki's words sailed right over him as he stared sightlessly.

His initial instinct to help and pop the Torrent into the Ethereal, but with so many mundane watching and recording the show it was an impossible gesture.

The other thought didn't even have a chance to bubble to the surface as his face twitched a buried it.

"Loki-"

“No wonder Apollo hated you, and no wonder why you got him killed.”

The quiet sound Mitchell made in the back of his throat was as painful as if he had taken the punch himself.

Kai glanced at Prasad as Loki picked up speed, then let out a small gasp once the soles of the Knight-Commander's had been firmly impressed on Archie's face.

A moment's thought: rewind time? Interfere? Not if Archie was a slaver. Loki wouldn't make that shit up...

...and that was when Archie Hartman said something that she'd never forget. Her skin burned red with rage at the provocation, something that wouldn't just hit Loki. It was something that would hit anyone who had cared for Apollo. Her shoulders hunched as she flinched at the Chatelaine's words. A rapid-fire assessment done through sheer instinct told her what she needed to know.

Hartman has a pretty decent sense of why Loki was coming at him.

Somehow, that made her blood run cold. The burning red turned to icy blue. And then there was movement in the crowd that suggested a need to act. She gripped her glass tightly.

The basilisk sighed through his nose as the Knight-Commander launched—not out of disapproval, but more that of a monk settling their mind in preparation. The Wizened seemed content with the explanation and didn't lob 30 questions when the Torrent was already blazing. The other Chevaliers were watching, but not making any move to join when the will of the Season was already playing out.

No need for overkill.

Rather, the hulking Beast took in the motion of the expected—the motleymate cutting through the crowd to aid their fallen. Golden eyes didn't light up in a psychic pin; he wasn't looking to clip their own need for vengeance with his powers, and intended to calmly position himself to take the full weight of the charging Metalflesh. He didn't expect Wayland to jump in and argue with a middling and high noble of their own alliance, and focused on the obvious.

The basilisk could take a hit. Linden was allowed to be pissed.

The comment stung enough to cause his eyes to mist, but the Commander was well aware he had invited unfiltered hate when he blew up Archie's spirit with War itself. His knuckles popped with a cold frown as the Fairest refused to engage and Get It Over With, feeling the pressure build from the collective of the Season as Summer roared in his head. The new connection of his Mantle was painful sometimes, swept up in a narrative his Element rejoiced as an addictive freedom.

He had his Code.


As soon as Archie said his piece, the fist connected in a cold clock as he took a knee to spare the Fairest the full weight of a swing. The purpose of the justice wasn't to give the other Freeholder an aneurysm or brain injury. Silver hands bat at him and he naturally weaves the grab, blinking in confusion at her with the streak of blood across his face and fist.

"Huh?"

Riley was stunned at the sudden display of brutal violence. The darkling's heart pounded in their chest as their mind exploded into a rain of fractured thoughts. Already Wayland had lept to pull Loki from Archie. The Moth glanced around, wondering where others were. The summer courtier had brought back up, overkill of course. Where were any Claviger’s?

Loki had broken hospitality, attacked without provocation, and continued to beat a down man. The wisp’s blood boiled. Wayland attempt to pull Loki off gave Riley the chance to get in.

“Let go of him you fucking sack of hammers. How dare you break hospitality. ” They growl, moving forward trying to get up in Loki’s face.


They knew they couldn't pull him off; they didn't stand a chance with that move. Loki was the better warrior, that was obvious, but he started a fight in Riley's Arena, they had home advantage. Riley was thankful for the first time the event was as big as it was, if this had been private or freehold only this move would be useless. Riley positioned themself in a way to make attacking Archie awkward, any attempt would threaten to hit the moth instead.

How would that look? Maybe some of the freeholders could turn a blind eye if Loki struck the darkling, but what about the Mortals? An upcoming queer entertainer attacked at a party? Struck by an angry man. With hundreds of witnesses, hundreds of cell phones. It would be a nightmare for Loki to work his way back from that. Whatever fragile moral ground he thought he stood on would crumble.

Riley had been hit by men like him before and for reasons stupider than this. At least if they were going to get hit it would be protecting a friend.


“Let. him. Go.” they hiss.

Her apology done, Ivory flowed away from the company of the Knight of Rains and his entourage, entering the periphery of the commotion at Archie's table.

The Pale Dragon beheld the scene before her with a sense of chilly aloofness. Loki had made a damning accusation against Archie and his impassioned words made a lie unlikely. Yet, despite this, Riley, Linden, and even Wayland stood between the Summer noble and his justice. It was... disappointing. There was often a thin line between blindness and loyalty, but Ivory had yet to determine which moniker fell to stars of Archie's ministrations.

Thus, in the wake of the accusation, Ivory chose to quietly side with a figure she knew she could trust and stood near Kai Rose standing near the edge of the Polychromatic's vision. Ivory was no soldier, but there was more than one way to end a battle - or render the interference of justice inconsequential.