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Post by Kai Rose on Jul 23, 2021 22:13:39 GMT -8
Oh, snap. Did Riley just punch Lucas in the face for calling them out for being an abuser?
Leaning in to Cinder, she cocked her head at the show of fisticuffs.
"Never thought Sorsa was the type to put hands on their ex."
Turned out Hartman's sins were small potatoes in comparison to the Oathbreaker's. At least the worst of Archie's errors had been prevented. She kept an eye on the situation, curious to see if it would escalate further.
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Eis
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Post by Eis on Jul 24, 2021 6:59:20 GMT -8
Eis, having parted ways with Blaze, returns to see Gavin's arrival. And a particularly heated exchange between Lucas and Riley. Namely in Lucas receiving something that Eis wouldn't precisely call a 'love tap'. All Eis can do is roll her eyes. She isn't here to pick sides, she's already pissed at how Spring and Summer's actions have caused all manner of social chaos, and she'd just as soon leave it be and go on her way. There would be no efforts at peacekeeping. At this point? She shouldn't be surprised. Eis just wishes it wasn't centered around Lucas - dear boy - and another member of Afterparty. What's... left of it.
Eis approaches the late coming Autumn with arms crossed, trying to ignore the spectacle. "Gavin. You haven't missed much. I was just on my way out." she says by way of greeting. Gesturing with a tilt of her head towards Lucas and Riley, she adds "For all the horrors we could be facing, everything that threatens the Freehold seems to come from the inside." She shakes her head disdainfully. Gavin had been with her for the ordeal with the Spring Ritual. She, herself, is still reeling from it. She can only imagine how Gavin has been processing it.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Jul 24, 2021 10:42:10 GMT -8
He had allowed himself to become distracted away from the altars when the commotion started. Catching only the follow through after the smack of the punch it had taken a moment to sort out what had happened. Riley threw hands at Lucas. That was never the vibe he got from either of them. It was that sort of thing he was trying to avoid. Violence had happened at two Spring rites and Summer was sure to not be outdone on that front. It called to him.
A moment had passed before he realized Eis had been speaking to him. "Sure. That's how things appear. Most of them are going soft with all the partying and mimosas. They need more of this if they are to stand a chance if the wards were to have an off year, right." He yearned to see more of it. Despite the bright day, his pupils were much wider than they ought to be.
He didn't answer the call.
"They're all still living like privateers and loyalists aren't a thing. The wards don't do shit for that." More disdain came out than he had intended. Having been hounded by human traffickers he came face to face with the truth that they weren't really safe. It was grating on him.
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Post by Wayland on Jul 25, 2021 20:05:12 GMT -8
Wayland's been keeping mostly to herself. Despite what it might have looked like at Beltane and Ostara, this has been the norm for her for years. Lurking at the edge of he crowd, in the wings. Participating in the events largely internally, in isolation. She's been trying to break that habit, trying to meet new people, trying to form some sense of community. But after what happened at Litha, it's easy to fall back into old patterns of behavior. Patterns that may not be very rewarding, but also don't come with much risk.
As Bloody Mary's new student, she's been focused on the ritual, making sure everyone's offerings have been going accordingly. When Cinderella calls for the courtiers of Summer, she goes immediately. She misses the drama unfolding between Riley, Lucas, Mitch, and Eurydice entirely.
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Eis
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Post by Eis on Jul 27, 2021 16:40:41 GMT -8
That isn't precisely the answer she's expected. He's practically cheering them on. Gavin is... a dangerous person. The excitement could easily be read in his eyes, and it is a chilling reminder of what he's capable of.
She can't argue his logic. Privateers and Loyalists are always a threat. Their whole lives, from the time of their escape, are filled with such dangers. Dangers that surround the Lost like an angry ocean. The arrangements made to hold the True Fae at bay in Vegas only serve as a breakwall. One that threatens to crumble at any moment.
"Right. And piss-all good the wards will do when we're at each other's throats. You know what's scarier than a Loyalist?" she asks, her gaze returning to the crowd surrounding Lucas and Riley again. "The rumor of one."
She doesn't stay close to Gavin to wait for an answer. She just finds a quiet spot to stand until this ordeal is over.
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Post by Kai Rose on Jul 27, 2021 18:28:19 GMT -8
"Relax, Eis."
Rose peered over from Cinder's side, an amused smile on her lips.
"A couple of people having a slapfight at Summer Coronation over their disputes is kind of on theme for the season of hate. When y'all inevitably do spooky shit to the rest of us in Autumn, you won't hear us acting like the sky is falling. We'll be scared, then. Let people be pissed off now."
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Post by Krakenbox on Jul 28, 2021 14:50:04 GMT -8
Drink and feasting are indulged until high noon, the land beginning to bake under the rise of Summer. A flurry erupts from the horizon as a curtain of monarchs descend from the wall of thorns, partaking in the fruit.
Smoke begins to seep into the field, as a curtain of fire splits to a thundering army of soot and armour. And it was an army, the numbers bolstered in recent months with eager devotion and drilling discipline. The field catches, turning the grass black with the advancing line and held chant. A single, golden butterfly heralds the procession, molten wings dripping as a form too bright to behold manifests in a flash.
Queen Philicia bows low in a curtsey, stepping away from the throne as the golden ivy of her circlet flakes from her brow. The hundred wing being shifts into the Iron Queen, the aura of Summer donning her head in the aura of an illuminated saint. Unleashing her sword, she renews her knights’ oaths as they kneel on the steps, now cracked with the blood of Ostara. There was a quiet hush as a few of the newer recruits flicked their attention to radiating Mantle of Loki—the head of the distinct black and red of the Chevaliers of Sirius that all but had dissolved the Tolltaker Knighthood, expecting something that never came.
Solomon was called to personally stand with the Queen, acknowledging the influx of vassalage and outlining plans to maintain their ties to Spring. He calls upon Kai Rose to take a Squire's Oath to handle the majority of of this transition, to which she receives her own moment in the Sun and a personal thanks from Uriel.
The Queen's own speech is brief, without the flowery embellishment of the former high monarch.
Those loyal to the Freehold will hold the line, adhering to the new laws that shoulder the honour of their flourishing society among their own.
Personal disputes are to be settled with contested action to announce superiority. The definition of harm to another Freeholder is permanent wounds to body and mind.
Blood spilt needlessly will be repaid in full, to meet the lean times due to the dearth of Spring healing.
ALL traffic between planes of reality are hereby banned, with appeals and registration made with the Knight of Borders.
All Freeholders must complete a month of defensive service, basic military tutelage included.
There's a flicker of tension among the Freeholders as they gaze upon Gravewights and Helldivers, and few of the known Autumn Hedge divers wearing thin smiles or open impatience. Golden Boy grins and spits as the large amount who openly stared at him and his predicament. Many of the Lost who didn't know about the lack of healing magic blinked in disbelief, looking to higher Mantles that nodded in grim affirmation. Bastille patiently waved a hand, shushing the rush of nervous questions to indicate the Queen wasn't finished, and he would organize the inevitable tide of applications now that border hopping was a breach of the Oath over a slap on the wrist.
We have suffered losses of our comrades,
and I ask you all to remember your humanity in this season of wrath, when so many spirits are fighting against their grief and fear.
She voiced the names of the fallen, from the Summer courtiers during the Revenant Crisis to the recent losses of Agrippa and Linden. The crown flared, bringing attention back from the moment of silence.
Standing united under the pledge of Courts and Freehold is never easy, but we find ourselves in a true age of invasion.
Many looked at Eis of all people, who so recently plied her fear of witch hunts and paranoia. Baron Samedi's mask slowly followed the flow of attention, pinning the Snowskin to the spot with the sightless mask that glinted in the ember glow.
...I am of course, speaking of the Keeper who was discovered by the Fellowship that dived in recent months,
discovering a True Fae's Title splintered and driven to our realms by the movements of another.
She continued, steady over the spike of panic as the thunder of Bedlam striking the ground in a flash of rapt intensity at what was to come.
We will be training those in Pledges of the Dream, and ask that motley alliances are formed at least for this year for the safety of us all.
Unfortunately, we have already secured four instances of violating Freehold Law and human sacrifice.
We have already secured two instances of Loyalism, proven by the wrath of the Wyrd.
Queen Philicia has sanctioned that her will be carried out under the purview of the new High Monarch.
Granting the sacrifice to the Season, a ray of heat is cast from the heavens themselves, splitting the clouds and atmosphere, as Winter’s display is named the victor. As the effigy burns in a fire so hot, the white flame is overwhelming. The butterflies burn and morph into crows.
The army parts to drag the two Loyalists to the center of the gathering, before the Hunter of Longest Day grabs them by the blood-soaked laurel wreath around their neck, and casts them into the incredible inferno. Stheno is last, opting to walk herself, backwards and staring down the rest of her court as the flames consume her.
The Freehold bears witness to the solemn display, before lighting their own alters and offering their symbols of victory, and beating back nightfall and impending invasion with drunken revelry and furious hearts influenced by the magic of the Season and warping Hedge.
The age of Wrath has arrived.
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