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Post by Krakenbox on Jul 31, 2021 23:37:53 GMT -8
Icarus was in full regalia, nodding as Rowan was lead by Felicity in a somber precession to the Dread Court of the Baron Samedi. He beheld the Throne in the distance, small in the ashen stream that ran against his feet. He knew the others of the Leaden Mirror were present, but he could not see them in the shadows of the wood. Bonnie Hill stood off to the side, sitting beneath the one of the pillars with her eyes pitch black in a rigid silent scream. Dusk turned to night under the harvest moon, with the King emerging from the fog in loud, trembling steps as He loomed at the head of the brook. Stone presented a flourishing bow, stepping to the Ogre's right as she dipped her hands into the water. Reciting an Oath with bright clarity, the liquid turned black as she drank from it, brass eye glinting as the ichor bled from behind while the other went dark in an owlish blink. "I summon thy Magistrate of Nightmares to oversee thy sentencing. The Knight holds no bearing in Our Court, as he yields only to Us. And so he shall be judged: a strike for the failure of thy vassalage; a cross for the failure to uphold decorum to thine Oath; a pound of flesh for the wound unto thy lessers. For the moon I take thine eyes for thou clearly has no use for them."The Snowskin feels his veins turn to ice, before he processes that the punishment is for his Knight to bear. The Magistrate emerges stiffly from the shadows to the left, with the Curse of the Witch King's wrath. The bow looked painful, holding a hand to his gaping wound. He cleared his throat and mechanically reviewed the evidence Rowan and Bastille had provided, along with the She-Wolf's account of Bonnie Hill's participation. Rowan listened to the fall of Linden, dumbstruck, and Bonnie's actions to attempt to secure the veil with an extensive list of rapid fire contacts. Icarus then stoically recounted Nohoilpi's provided evidence of ephemeral influence from the Rite ultimately causing the rise of unexpected deaths in the bodies of those too small to resist the necrotic corruption, and the minds of those too battered and bruised to resist temptations to join the dead. Both the Winter King and the Knight of Mourning were present in the Twilight, currently, having to secure the entire region before this plague of misfortune spread beyond the borders of their city, leaving the Freehold is disarray with the other Sun Banisher out of commission. The Magistrate then stated that the King's questions would have to go through him, for Rowan to be able to answer due to the confines of his Pledge of Silence with Bonnie Hill. Baron Samedi's mask tilted slightly, "Magistrate. We have already declared that the Knight of the Dying Light is not present, as We would not be speaking to him as he carries out his own sentence. A pity..."
Saturday stretched over Rowan, blocking out the moon with the vast, reality weaving threads of the void as oil drool and tears dripped from bronze teeth and eyes. "A question that will not break thy Pledge, little one. Why did thou do this?"
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Post by Rowan on Aug 2, 2021 8:58:50 GMT -8
Ivory had told him that he would face whatever was to come with his honour intact.
Dani had asked him if there was anything she could do to help.
Neither were present, however. This was an Autumn matter, and the warmth of the High Seasons would not be allowed. And so Rowan walked towards his doom alone, terrified. He could vaguely feel the gaze of others through the shadows around him, but it held little comfort. After all, he couldn't be sure whether they were there for support or to gawk at him, relieved they places weren't switched. He saw Bonnie, face distorted and looked away - it felt like looking into the future. Weathering the rumble of the Monarch's voice, it took the Darkling a moment to process what had been said. At the appearance of his Knight, Rowan bit down on his lower to stifle the scream that had started in his throat.
This wasn't a trial, not really. This wasn't about rectification, this was about setting an example. Hot tears fell on his face from the anger that had joined terror at the party in his guts. He wanted to shout his rage against what had been done, what was going to be done. He couldn't trust that Icarus' fate was just, not after what the Fairest had told him.
But he couldn't do anything. Tears mixed with blood and dripped from his chin as he finally turned to face his King.
"The ritual would have happened, even if I wasn't part of it. Except Bonnie, no one knew what they were doing. I wanted to avoid another accident." And he had failed.
"I also wanted to understand." Icarus had told him to say the truth - this was it. If this were to be his final words, he didn't want to be remembered as a liar and a coward.
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Post by Samedi on Aug 2, 2021 10:11:20 GMT -8
The Ogre was standing at his full height, rather the usual twisted hunch that brought the mask to reasonable measure. The Snowskin was aware it wasn't His face—the gaping maw large enough to swallow a man hidden in twining shadow. Rowan has seen Baron Samedi angry, with splitting teeth and grasping claws; he has seen Him reproachful, with questions that made one's thoughts twist to new perspective. The leaking visage as the Patient of the Moon gazed out to His court was a consideration just as carefully weighed as His assessment of the Darklings' motives.
The King was taking in the reaching consequences. Rowan and Bonnie Hill having become elevated to a symbol of the Mirror's Fear. Somehow that understanding that he served a narrative pivot in the mad ancient's understanding of their collective Fate, was more terrifying a prospect than Baron Samedi being simply mad or disappointed in him as a person. The Mantle expressing itself on the tarnished metal allowed him to understand that Papa Saturday was afraid.
"Now We hear a true answer."
Rowan was a smart enough man to know he could have sabotaged or convinced Bonnie Hill otherwise. This had been about Forbidden Knowledge, that was not so forbidden.
"These actions were taken in ignorance. This We understand. You are cursed with the impulse the Keepers have marked us with. You are cursed with the entitlement God placed in your heart." The mask swung, looking to the edge of the forest, and Tanner went rigid as the King locked on, appearing to Rowan as well as the Twilight Page was addressed and confirming Felicity had not lied to him.
"Rowan of the Leaden Mirror nearly froze to death at Yule. As did Agrippa of the Antler Crown. He pursued your motleymate because of this, Twilit Page, and found his Hollow plagued by this nightmare. Did he speak with you since, Twilit Page. To find answers on what's become of you, or your motley?"
Tanner's pallor was grey, not moving so much as a twitch as his eyes flicked to Rowan. He saw the bear trap set for the both of them, but knew it was worse to remain silent.
"No."
"Dormarch of the Leaden Mirror, squire of the Knight of the Dying Light. What research has Rowan requested of you, and for what purpose?"
The Gravewight smoothed his hair, looking more saddened and irritated than nervous. The Beast's attention kept wandering back to Icarus's wounds.
"Sire. He was researching Winter and Golden Boy, but said he didn't want people to bother him. I didn't offer him immediate access to knowledge of Ghosts and was clear he wasn't looking to just dive in, because he needed to settle under a Knight first and deal with his mental health. Since then he has requested nothing."
The King nodded to both before settling back on the Snowskin. "We would like some context on how you were looking to manage those around you on this venture."
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Post by Rowan on Aug 2, 2021 12:11:22 GMT -8
" Another Oath stops me from answering you question in full, my King, but I have information that could have been vital to the success of the ritual."
Had Summer done their job. The Darkling was almost vibrating with contained emotions. He made it out because he did what he had to do. After hearing the Magistrate's recounting of what happened in the Skinlands, it dawned on him that maybe, just maybe, Linden and Danica were to blame for their incompetence. He couldn't help but think that he was being punished for someone else's mistake - he hadn't asked Agrippa to throw their life away for him.
Rowan shot a glance at Tanner before looking away again. He couldn't bring himself to face all these people, all those who were left in the dust of relentless need to keep moving forward. And that was it, wasn't it? It was his stubborn need to stay relevant that had drove him to this. Golden Boy hadn't told the rest of his motley about their meetings, so Rowan had no intention of bringing them up either.
"Bonnie was to stay behind to keep an eye on things, so someone on the ground had to have knowledge of the occult."
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Post by Samedi on Aug 2, 2021 15:42:58 GMT -8
The maw splits, revealing blue-black gums and rows of teeth in the center of the mass.
"...Ah! Not an expert of Ghosts and Wards to parts unknown. I see, I see—not a charlatan but a mountebank." The laughter was sudden, the Ogre advancing as the teeth gnashed, gesturing with black, glittering claws.
"No insult, sir. You gave something very precious to earn information for the Freehold's defense. Yes you miss the vital piece in your defense—a Thread of sanity. Oaths We shall respect, of course, and so we can only use the words that are spoken. Children of Autumn all wish to understand, but you hunger for it in that hollow stich that remained an open wound to the whole poem."
Icarus took a small step forward as the Fall King moved so excitedly around his charge, only capable of listening to his demeanor.
"That Helldiver gave you a gift. And such a spectacular lesson it was, that I suppose the entire Court will learn from." A talon traced Rowan's chest, hovering above the heart. "Knowledge comes at a cost. Not enough Knowledge comes at a different cost. But I am the King of the Harvest and Witchcraft..." The mouth hung open, stuck on a thought as the ancient gasped.
"Secrets are another domain entirely. Brother, We will not eat him. He is not an enemy of me and mine. I think what was missing has been planted and grown." The mask swung again to regard the small, fragile form of King Nohoilpi who still stood next to Bonnie Hill.
"I cannot have your Wolves hounding him for silence. I treat the opportunity of my ear for sentence so an Arrow's vengeance will not fly itself across the line?" His tone was extremely familiar, almost humoured at the idea of having to fight the other for violating His jurisdiction.
"Miss Hill will die. A violation of hospitality We can never accept in my Court. Banishment with her discoveries would be too cruel with the Keepers outside our threshold... what do you have to say for yourself, Rowan of the Leaden Mirror? If you walk from this trial crying to my Knighthood that We do not permit you knowledge, We have to answer to Our Crown being accused a liar and a censor. We HOARD, little one. There is no need to be jealous of Our years. Do not mistake your Fear keeping you alive for anyone stopping you from seeking."
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Post by Rowan on Aug 2, 2021 16:22:09 GMT -8
Was the Winter King always there, standing right next to Bonnie? Certainly. Using Rowan's terror and shame, and most definitely aided by his Mantle, Nohoilpi had flown under the Darkling's radar.
He flinched as the giant claw touched his chest, and the gaping maw came so very close. Nothing happened. Uncertainty replaced the glowing coals of outrage. Was he... off the hook? No sentence had been issued yet, so Rowan had to keep hope close to his heart, lest it fly too soon. He could tell himself that he was sad that Bonnie had to die, but mostly, over everything else, he was relieved to be still alive. He placed his hand where the claw had been, feeling the warmth that had blossomed there.
The exchange between Kings left a strange taste in his mouth. Sure, the Autumn King wouldn't stop him, but Samedi himself had said that Secrets were the domain of Winter.
"I say that I have mistaken my Nature. I didn't act like a Wisp and moved without thought or consideration. I am grateful to my King for reminding me. I say that I won't forget Agrippa's sacrifice, or what it has taught me - Friendship. Even when I stand here, I carry the good wishes of those who care for me."
"Autumn teaches us to face our fears and I have been running away from mine for too long."
What would Loki say if he heard him now?
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Post by Krakenbox on Aug 2, 2021 17:28:51 GMT -8
Nohoilpi Himself gently pulls Bonnie Hill from her kneeling position, guiding her in a blind, numb stupor as she is left to drop in front of Rowan. The quiet hiss of leaves deafens with His approach, darkening the halo of the moon as snow and ice emerge on the periphery. The dropping temperature feels out of time, as if the Dakrling's eyes and lips had began to stick together ages ago, energy sapping higher thinking with the weight of waning survival and the water burned with the freeze. The intense moment lessens as the Winter King withdraws to stand above the brook.
King Samedi nods to Rowan, stepping back as He gestures for the Magistrate of Nightmares to draw his blade. Icarus slowly draws the hefty sword from his back, breath catching with the lacerations leaking a dark ichor. His frown is clear, but it's dulled with years of haunting experience in the role of executioner. Sigils light up with the full fury of Summer vengeance, blade glowing as flames lick the drifting flakes. The Magistrate ticks his head, sensing Rowan's mantle and indicating he needed to step aside now, opening his mouth to pass sentence.
"Wait."
The Dread Lord held up a hand, Icarus' aloft sword somehow catching in sequence. The mask tilts, the barest edge of a whisper trickling from all direction.
"The Avatar of Secrets states that if Rowan of the Leaden Mirror feels himself worthy of the responsibility of kings, he will have it."
Icarus' grip tightens, lips thinning as his jaw clenches.
"...Bearing the full weight that comes from Our knowledge and decisions made for the Freehold, he will make peace with the Onyx Court and my motleymate by accepting sorrow in his heart. Remember this day and the weight when you pluck at the fabric of our fates."
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Post by Rowan on Aug 2, 2021 18:13:36 GMT -8
There it was. That instant when the other shoe dropped. Flames cast stark shadows against the trees, fed by Summer's sword and Icarus' Mantle. This was what it came down to.
I really fucking hate Bonnie right now.
I bear no anger towards you, Rowan, though I cannot say the same for Ms. Hill.
Voices echoed in his mind, the very same that had wished him luck. Ever since the ritual, people have borne anger towards Bonnie, Dani and Rowan. They said the Gravewright should pay for what she did, for the deaths she caused. Well, this was it - this was the price. Would those same people still hold onto their judgment, if they were in his shoes? Changelings should now better than to make grand statements, because the Wyrd always listened. Rowan stood paralyzed, better than any Contract would have ever done. He had claimed being willing to do anything to survive and now his mettle was tested.
Changelings should now better than to make grand statements, because the Wyrd always listened.
Why was it so hard? She was defenseless; it would be so easy to sever an artery and let her bleed out. He'd killed before, apparently, thought he didn't remember. Everything felt wrong. Agrippa chose to lead the ghosts away and Linden had been made aware of the possible danger. They had all joined willingly, so they should all bear the blame. The masses had chosen to absolve Rowan and condemn Bonnie, but how was he any different? If anything, his fault should be greater, and ignorance shouldn't be an excuse. He had never accepted it in others and so he wouldn't accept it in himself.
I'm willing to do anything to survive.
Even to scapegoat someone who did all in her power to rectify the situation, while he was hiding in vents?
Rowan looked to his Knight- no, to his Magistrate, and whispered a simple question.
"How do I make it painless?"
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Post by Gavin Graves on Aug 2, 2021 19:20:06 GMT -8
Gavin stood among the sea of lesser mantles and looming misshapen and shadowed trees in a pocket near Scorpio. It was a solemn occasion where death loomed heavy in the air like pregnant clouds ready to drop a crimson rain. The usual vibrating energy was absent from the Beast. Even the call within him to revel in carnage was silent at this time.
This gathering in the woods was not called merely to pass a judgement or even to delve very far toward getting to the truth. It held other purposes decorated generously about the shadowy stonework: This was the classroom and it was in session. All eyes were expected to be on the object lesson as it unfolded. Gavin counted himself among the intrepid and curious. He knew in his heart it could just as easily have been him standing in Rowan's place. He had already proved the possibility in his efforts to fix the Spring Rite. He was guilty of wild hubris by putting voice to offering others' blood to fix a problem born in the trappings of occult promises unfulfilled by others. Gavin received mild sympathy and rebuke. Rowan is on overt display. This lesson was for Gavin and anyone else like him as much as Rowan, assuming he is permitted to live.
The differences of note for acceptable behaviour appeared to Gavin as weighted mostly based on responsibility for results. Gavin had recently reached beyond his grasp, having incidentally helped to save some humans and had become renowned for his efforts. Rowan lucky to survive his escapade, and apparently due to great sacrifice by Agrippa, is held within the crucible of fear poised for its black flames to scour him away--for a very familiar curiosity. It could be that 'the means used' were among the considerations. It could be that 'due care and efforts to mitigate risks' were considered. Those items were not as apparent on the scales of the trial. The surviving Summer courtier was conspicuously not on trial either. What were the true crimes here? he wondered.
With the grim consequences on parade, he pondered about the results of the experiment. Perhaps the lessons here could go beyond the object and travel into the obscure and occult--with the right action--or would Bonnie take her learnings to the grave? Did she record her results somewhere that might be accessible? The driving urge within Gavin pushed him even now as the weighty consequences for failure were unfolding on the stage. He caught himself running down that precarious path and stopped himself, at least for the moment. The path to real knowledge is like a minefield here, best tread carefully, he concluded.
He looked to his Knight throughout the proceedings trying to gauge her reactions. Surely she would know better what was going on here. Perhaps she might be of some guidance. He had an inkling of what was going on, but needed to be sure. Lives might be on the line, apparently his and hers included if what happened with Icarus was any example to go by.
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Post by Icarus on Aug 2, 2021 19:32:33 GMT -8
As the Winter King's mantle abated in small measure with distance, Rowan realized the Magistrate was speaking to himself under his breath
"-turned my soul into a black hole, to which I violated spirits in the darkest of capacities," Icarus said in an emotionless prayer, the shadows sharp and his bloodied features painfully ethereal in shadow and heaven as the Contract wove. The fire of the sword turns sickly and weak as he defies physics and weightlessly spins it, handing the massive weapon to Rowan. The sigils evaporate without his hand, the grip turning white-hot—almost angrily in close contact with another. Freely given, it does not burn, but the magic woven clearly does not resonate with the Darkling as the blade hits the frozen water with a crackle. Rowan wasn't used to holding such an unwieldly thing.
Icarus tilts his head at the question, picturing Rowan angling for a reluctant throat slit, and unprepared for how resilient people are outside of television and novels.
"With a clean swing."
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Post by Rowan on Aug 2, 2021 20:26:57 GMT -8
He brought he gaze to the angry slab of steel that had been placed in his grip. He couldn't see himself deliver a 'clean swing' with the blade. Rowan watched as Icarus weave a Contract, but he didn't bother to pay attention. He pushed the sword back, trusting his Knight to catch his Token.
He wove Glamour around his fingers, like he's done so many times before. Sharper, sharper, sharper. Always sharper. He remembered how he had sliced through the bull corpse and wondered if this would feel the same. If anything, Rowan had never spared anyone's feelings and he wasn't about to start sparing his own. He had said that he had run for long enough so why bother putting a buffer?
He knelt down in the frigid stream, water soaking his jeans. The cold seeped into his bones, but the Darkling didn't notice. Everything felt surreal. His hands weren't his hands and his body wasn't his body. It was like watching an old rerun of someone else's life. Rowan wasn't sure if what was happening was true, or some twisted punishment devised by his Keeper. Because that was the thought nagging at the back of his mind - maybe this was just a recollection of his time in Arcadia. But the body acted, ruthless in its drive to move forward.
"I'm sorry."
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Post by Bonnie Hill on Aug 3, 2021 0:12:23 GMT -8
As the sword is pushed back, Icarus grunts, forgetting his wounds as he rushes to handle it like a sacred object. His hold on reality held fast, the mantra of his Keeper's crimes keeping him shielded in the radiating armour of his scars. Confusion flickers across his sightless face, bleeding voids for socket unable to produce tears as he realized that the Darkling was doing exactly what he was trying to prevent. As the claws glimmered over Bonnie's stunned state, her face twitches like a cat's whiskers being brushed, light flowing back into her vision as the cacophony of Paralyzing Presence evaporated with the nightmare. "ROWAN!" Icarus snarled, the Fairest's anguish clear as he rounded on his vassal, and far too late and crippled to intervene. Blood fountained onto thin ice, and the brook turned crimson with sympathy as the swamp turned sickly green. Bonnie Hill had moved. The pure, haunted fright of someone facing death radiating a distinct smell. A slit throat didn't kill you, the shock and blood loss did. The scream bubbled from her choking lungs, lunging forward as she ran on all fours in a stumbling gait and held her horrific wounds that crossed from the side of her neck to her breast. The shadows whisper to embrace her with the call for Light-Shy, but she was left without glamour. Rowan can feel his monarch's stare on the back of his neck. Waiting.
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Post by Rowan on Aug 3, 2021 9:53:37 GMT -8
DH Wrong, wrong, wrong. Rowan’s consciousness reeled at how wrong everything was. But in the middle of the failed butchery, some part of him twinkled with recognition. This was what he used to do. Or that he still did? Not the blood part, that was new. But he had been the Hunter at Nightfall, reclaiming the forest from those who would dare settle in it. Perhaps he had done it on purpose, falling back on the familiar patterns of wounding and stalking to protect his psyche. TW: Self-harm Or maybe it was an attempt to hurt himself. Rowan twisted his body out of shape almost everyday, so scarring the mind was all he had left. Would he feel present then? The King’s gaze burned at his back as he followed his quarry. Who was he now? A Courtier. A scholar. A killer. A monster. A cautionary tale. He was all of those things and none of them at the same time. Rowan waded through bloody water with a grim determination to see things through. He hadn’t listened and it had come to this. In an act of rebellion, he screamed his desperation, denouncing the silent purpose he had been twisted for. He will not kill quietly. He took his anger, his shame and his terror and flung it into Bonnie as he rushed at her. She was his scapegoat and she stood for everything he hated in himself now. Clarity Attack 4 - repeat of his Durance 2 successes 1 10(4) 5 10(2) Clarity damage Wyrd (2) - 2 (multiple Touchstones) Roll chance 0 success : 2 Strength + Brawl + Specialty + Willpower + All out Roll 12 3 successes: 7 9 10(2) 10(3) 3 7 4 6 7 6 1 6
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Post by Bonnie Hill on Aug 3, 2021 11:31:19 GMT -8
Mechanically, Bonnie Hill has Dodged, doubling her defense score. 1 Aggravated Damage is deflected. The banshee's blind flight is met with Rowan's claws raking across her shoulders, trying to catch the artery and stop the nightmare. Her expression was ugly, starting to pivot to fight as her arm came up in a practiced maneuver. Bonnie Hill's arm was scored instead of her throat. The observant Darkling catching the wedding ring. "Why?" she hissed through the sucking wounds around her neck.
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Post by Rowan on Aug 3, 2021 11:48:01 GMT -8
They had warned him, time after time after time. Fuck around and find out.
When studying for his GED, Rowan had stubbled upon a quote from Romeo and Juliet. The play had felt overly dramatic to him and he couldn’t grasp the urgency of the protagonists’ passion. That was his ultimate failing as a scholar - he didn’t learn.
These violent delights have violent ends.
She fought back. Rowan wished she hadn’t, but he couldn’t fault her for it - he understood the struggle. He didn’t hate Bonnie Hill, not in the same way Dani or Ivory did. It was simple math. Winter wanted their pound of flesh. The masses wanted someone to blame. Right now, in this trial, there were only two suitable figures.
“Because it’s you or me.”
Strength + Brawl + Specialty + Willpower + All Out Roll 12 by 4 successes: 1 2 1 6 4 10(8) 8 6 2 6 4 9
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