|
Post by Krakenbox on Nov 28, 2021 16:48:26 GMT -8
A meeting had been called. The black shard for a lockpick opened any convenient door, revealing a dark world of rock and willow. The trees were bent low and humble under eons of grey skies and silent snow, where the only logical path was to trudge towards the obelisks. The center of what might have been a courtyard was an eroded pillar where the brazier had long burnt out, with black ash growing and spreading like a black moss. Massive cairns towered high above and fading into the still mists, guarded by ornate gates and shattered gardens of slivered ice. The weight of footfalls begged to disturb the surface, but no crackle of the white surface interrupted the quiet world as courtiers passed through the center and beheld the Blue House. The doors held no lock, opening freely as some of the snow loosened and dusted the entryway of a much larger chamber than the outside led to believe. There was no throne. A bonfire had been built in the center of the low dugout, where concentric circles were tiered like levels of a small council chamber. There was no particular order to the seating, with the Onyxsworn choosing to position next to close allies, or remaining pointedly apart. One effect that the fire did enforce, was the close quarters and an absence of secrecy; the bleak and frozen shadows offering no respite, and the intensity of one another's Mantles muffling conversation from afar. If there was once decoration or splendor to the intimate chamber, it would be impossible for one to tell through the thick layers of permafrost. However, the pit was warm enough to somehow beat back the weight of the surrounding atmosphere. The Lich did not seem so intimidating among his court, slight and still of average height. The ancient's skull bore only a halo of ice this evening; did he normally have antlers or horns? Others had his ear, heads bowed from the strength of the Season's favour, with the discussion freely opening up to others if they felt the need to interject. Nohoilpi's voice was a silent intent, wordlessly cutting through the buzz of inner thoughts like the stroke of an all-encompassing brush. One the edge of discussion, it was a scratch and a whisper within one's mind, unless they chose to fully focus on the King. Outloud, Julia Álvarez was currently asking about the future safety of her motleymate, as the Knight of Mourning himself towered patiently behind her. Roger had worked with the King for almost a month is repairing the breach of the dead, and yet the High Seasons dug in their heels. Now Huntsmen were at the gate, with Spring itself cheated and despondent; like the mourning of Demeter, the Emeralds had suffered for their moral superiority. How did the Kings intend on bridging this court divide? She was tired of both sides of the wheel unwilling to budge and swallow their pride. A few other members agreed, voicing their own experiences with the Revenant Crisis and the blame placed on a former Winter Freeholder. Lancelot had survived the clash between Fae Titles and carried the warning back with the Spring and Summer incursion, and yet Queen Uriel’s decree had done nothing to manage the mistrust between the Lost of Vegas, because Pledges have proven to do nothing to protect them from ignorance and human error. King Samedi had enacted a brutal sentence, suggested by the Winter King before them. Would these trends continue? Álvarez looked to the Knight of Veils, Sedna, to include in the question, rather than just King Nohoilpi. Hard measures are expected by the Silent Arrow, however, their ability to connect to the Freehold was rapidly deteriorating. There was a pause, allowing others to add to the thread of concern.
|
|
|
Post by Lucas Chevalier on Dec 3, 2021 0:46:53 GMT -8
The bleakness of the meeting area combined with the cold and the feelings of sorrow emanating from different mantles in different flavors vaguely reminded the Gravewight of the terrible place he had traveled to with Golden Boy. Fortunately, he had become skilled at masking his discomfort and so he sat there looking patient while he listened to the others. He scanned the crowd to get a sense of who might be favorable towards the direction he wanted to see the court shift towards.
He had chosen an outfit that was similar to what he wore at Samhain except it was less formal. He wore a form fitting black jacket that was cut in a military style with gold trimmings. On his pinky finger was the same gold Lion's head ring he wore which elevated his appearance when he locked his fingers together to give him a regal bearing. His golden blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and the scruff around his lower face was well trimmed. If there was one thing he had over the king and many other members of his court it was a strong presence. If he wanted to draw attention to himself he easily could. However, before he risked creating waves he needed to get a sense for the temperature in the room and if there was anyone presence who would even give his words more than a passing thought.
Even if no one was on his side he knew he couldn't remain completely quiet. There was too much riding on the need for the court to adapt and break free from being stagnant. Lucas felt more confident than ever in his place within the court because he could feel his connection with the season deepening every day. Every time he reflected on the grief he had encountered among his fellow courtiers, it caused the magic within him to surge and stir an urge to take action.
When the conversation came to pause to allow others to speak up, Lucas took this opportunity to say his piece.
"In order to solve the issue of how we plan to connect with the other courts, we also have to look within our own court. We've been tasked with some of the most grueling tasks Vegas could ask of any Freeholder. Those tasks come at an emotional price. It's not a weakness of character to begin to break under the enormous strain that comes from the burdens asked of us. We need to be more of a support for one and other. We need to be mindful of how we treat one and other."
Another thought hummed loudly in his head but he waited to see how the others responded before bringing life to those thoughts.
|
|
|
Post by Blaze on Dec 3, 2021 13:13:02 GMT -8
She makes her way to the meeting in a long grey coat. She looked solid enough, but the point here was practicality and not standing out too much. She had little context on the events that brough them to this point and frankly, when she actually entered and settled in the hall beside a bonfire, she found the order slightly mistyfying. The Elemental was used to a much lower degree of egalitarianism: the Court's rank and file was perfectly free to go out there and do things (which incidentally had the effect of providing the elders with cannon fodder and field agents), but no King of Winter she knew of would seriously consider listening to the opinions of the general population. Lacking the political acumen to parse it fully, the Ifrit chose to believe it is some kind of test or ruse and decided to stay just involved enough to not let them know she thinks that, but not involved enough to betray anything.
She listens to Lucas. The Fairest was mostly an unknown still, but it was good to have someone who could pull all the attention, even if 'have' might not be the perfect word.
"It's always good to be introspective." She says, leading with an agreement with the basic stance to hopefully not make the next part sound like an attack "I don't know you or your business very well, Lucas, but it sounds to me like you have specific events in mind. Or specific people."
|
|
|
Post by Krakenbox on Dec 5, 2021 21:21:53 GMT -8
Lucas mused on what he knew about the current dynamic with Nohoilpi's reign. Fawkes had not kept his activities with Golden Boy a secret, really, which would entail that he had enough resolve to push the envelope past what a paranoid would normally mess with. Among the Silent Arrow, the Torrent was actually known shit disturber, and wasn't shy about ranting about his opinion at these meetings when invited. Sedna and Achak were remembered to have been quite vexed with Yazzie feeling unwelcome enough to leave the Freehold and even more disgusted when Summer lay the blame at her feet for the Revenant Crisis (the members of that accusation being Linden, Riley, Rowan, and Firebringer). They had demanded action from the King, which he abstained, saying the deaths were enough consequence. He also forbade them from venturing out to try and convince the Coyote to return to the fold, which prompted Achak to step down as Lord of the Inhospitable Chamber. Watchtower motley had both been acting agitated, with Cailleagh strengthening her ties with the Emerald Court while Mordecai showed less and less to Onyx gatherings and largely only spoke to Sedna. Golden Boy had gone so far as to publicly challenge Nohoilpi at last year's main Imbolc rave, which was not spoken of without the Fairest and King's permission with the Rite's Oath in place. Shandiin was a younger Polychromatic that had waffled between Spring and Winter and struggled with Ice Law, often speaking with the King in a heated manner...though their disagreements were usually resolved before the next meeting; he often spoke with Sedna on her former Squireship among the Emeralds when she was around his age. Doing the math, Lucas couldn't help but note the larger representation of different First Nations backgrounds present within the Court, and their boldness with checking Nohoilpi. The one who was speaking—Alvarez—often acted as a bridge, bringing forward issues as one who housed most of new Changelings of Lost Vegas. Golden Boy was absent from this meeting. The thin figure traced the grain of carved stone, standing silently in a smooth motion as black fingers grasped the skull the covered his face. The smooth planes of the face were obscured by the crescent that shone with the true manifestation of Winter's Crown. As Nohoilpi held the helm between his hands, the glow of waning crescent sprouting crystals as a mantle from his shoulders. Lucas may have not expected the monarch to turn his attention to him and address him directly, realizing he had been doing so the entire time with other members of the Court. The weight was immense. His senses dampening and darkened, sealing off the outside world as eyes and lips begin sticking together. His tongue felt leaden, with the turn of his feet threatening to pull him to the floor. Higher ambitions were shelved for now, in favour of raw survival—but the words still found him. They were impossible to ignore, as the intent echoed through the Fairest's mind. NO ONE HERE WOULD CALL THEMSELVES WEAK.
THE MONIKER WOULD BE INACCURATE.There was a moment of reprieve as the attention swept briefly to Blaze. The emotion was humour—was he agreeing with her? There was a beat before King Nohoilpi's unspoked words booked through Lucas' mind again. A nod was offered if the Gravewight was waiting for permission.
|
|
|
Post by Lucas Chevalier on Dec 7, 2021 1:07:31 GMT -8
The weight of the Winter King's mantle caused the Fairest to lean back into his seat, trying to physically and mentally place distance between the two of them. There was a moment when he found himself deeply regretting speaking up at all. Maybe it was better to apologize, bow his head, and remain silent.
Before the thought was able to grow into action, he felt his own mantle tug at him. The magic of the season felt like it was urging him to keep pushing forward. While Nohoilpi might be the King of Winter, he was not the only source of representation for the season. The nudging reminded him of all of the terrible suffering he had witnessed which seemed to be largely forgotten by most of the Freehold.
Yasmin's life had brutally been snuffed out before she even got a chance to start pursuing her dreams.
The different cemeteries in Vegas were filled with those who had lost their lives to the after effects of the failed ritual Bonnie had tried to perform.
Bonnie died in a truly horrifying manner and her name was barely spoken of above a whisper.
Linden's legacy had been cut short. So had Agrippa's.
All of this suffering and loss without a word from their Monarch. It was obvious that Nohoilpi had lost touch with his humanity and his main interpretation of watching over the cycle of death was through the lens of the Wyrd.
The Gravewight straightened up, using his own presence to push back against the force of Nohoilpi's mantle.
If he was going to live then he was going to be brave.
"I am talking about Golden Boy." He took a moment to address Blaze before focusing on their Monarch the best that he could.
"Our court has become unbalanced. You and I, my King, have a special connection with death. We are connected with it in a way that few others are and most would never want to feel a semblance of this connection. I understand how having our eyes wide open to what's on the other side can cause us to see the world and the threats within it so differently than others.
But Freehold is full of the living, not the dead. We have to maintain our connection to our humanity so that we can connect with the other courts and work together. Whatever Golden Boy has done to deserve the punishment you dolled out on him...he has paid his dues. To force him to continue to endure what he is enduring is pure torture. It has to...it needs to stop before he becomes irreparably broken. If that happens, we will hit the point of no return, and we will all suffer because of it."
The Gravewight's mantle flared while he spoke, his voice full of empathetic pain for all of the suffering he had witnessed over the past year. The sorrow in his heart became intertwined with the magic in his mantle. As his voice grew quiet, a haunting dirge could be heard from within the mist that surrounded him. There were no formed words, rather the sorrowful melody was followed by gentle hums or broken whispered words depending on the Gravewight's emotions.
|
|
|
Post by Krakenbox on Dec 11, 2021 19:52:13 GMT -8
There was a stillness that settled, between the surprise and respect owed by Lucas drawing the favour of their Seasonal patron; but also the undercurrent of unease as eyes danced from the radiant Fairest to the subtle waif of bone and moon, a few faces pinching with wistful memory or pain they didn't ask to be confronted with.
Awarding an approving nod, Nohoilpi looked up at Lucas, causing another wave of psychic snow to settle on his shoulders.
PUNISHMENT.
YOU MISREAD I SEE.
THE GAME HE ENTERED IS VOLUNTARY.
|
|
|
Post by Blaze on Dec 12, 2021 12:17:22 GMT -8
It looks like Lucas took on the ballsy route of opposing Nohoilpi, almost telling the King what to do in a room full of Onyx Courtiers. Personally, Blaze had no intention of following his lead - openly denying a creature with such a strong connection to Winter and Wyrd didn't sound like something she'd do, not when she emerged from the faceless masses so recently. Not without ample context.
With only one side of the exchange using actual audible words she had even more trouble keeping up, meaning the Torrent thought it best to just stay silent and let this whole thing play out like it's supposed to.
|
|
|
Post by Lucas Chevalier on Dec 15, 2021 23:23:39 GMT -8
"A game?"
The Fairest's voice barely rose above a whisper. If it wasn't for the close proximity of the seating, it was entirely possible that his words would have been lost to the crackle of the flames dancing around the bonfire.
Their King had gone mad. The suffering of his own people was completely lost on him. Nohoilpi drank deeply into the Wyrd and with every sip he left a piece of his humanity behind him. The conversation with the Pledgesmiths regarding how to satisfy broken oaths taught Lucas just how alien fairy logic could be compared to their own. Nohoilpi's sense of justice was now based in a different reality all together.
He remained quiet while he reflected on his own take on justice and what the Freehold needed to heal. One thought kept rising to the surface of his conscious over and over again; unresolved grief. Their court had strayed so far from helping others process their grief and instead became harbingers of grief. The next question of course was defining what grief meant in a place like this where they went through losses that the human mind wouldn't even be able to begin to comprehend. A quote he heard while late night tv binging last year also rose to the surface of his consciousness:
What is grief is not love persevering?
During his time in Vegas, the Fairest learned to love in many different forms. In this moment, he needed to draw on the strength love gave him so he wouldn't be grieving the loss of it in a few months. Winter Magic wasn't the only magic he tapped into either. The Arcadian power radiating from the ring on his pinky finger reminded him that he was a sovereign in his own right. He drew in a deep breath before rising to his feet so that his voice would be able to carry over the flames and the collected sensations of their mantles all combined in one small area.
"Every game we who have been touched by Arcadian magic play is overseen by the Wyrd. The Wyrd is judge, jury, and executioner when it comes to the fairness of the game. My King, the Wyrd has sent a warning that you must change how you are playing the game or bring it to an end. Otherwise, great misfortune will befall our Freehold and your hands will be stained with the loss of live that follows.
During Samhain, when Fall's magic ascended and we were offered the opportunity to open our eyes to the Wyrd's will, I shared in the rite with Dreamcatcher. We all took a sip of the Daisy chain elixir to see if prosperity could be brought to Golden Boy or if there was an enemy among us. I became a conduit of the Wyrd and a warning was given to me."
The Fairest recited the full details of the vision the Wyrd bestowed upon him for all the gathered Onyx to hear.
Even in this pivotal moment, Lucas's knees threatened to buckle at the might of Nohoilpi's mantle. The only thing keeping him on his feet was holding on tightly to the images of Riley sobbing in his arms, Dani calling him is best friend, Eurydice sealing their promise with a kiss, and petting Golden Boy's hair while he lay covered in his own blood. He couldn't let them down.
He wouldn't.
"You are our King, not our Keeper. I vote that we release Golden Boy from the Curse you placed him under in this game and do the same for all others who suffer from the same curse. Otherwise, our enemies will only become more powerful as we drive our own deeper into isolation and madness"
|
|
|
Post by Krakenbox on Dec 16, 2021 11:09:58 GMT -8
MORESO WHEN A PLEDGE IS IN PLACE.
His voice echoed for all to hear.
The judge, the jury, and executioner. The being turned to blackened charcoal by the crackling force of chaos and dreams would not violate such precepts, no more than one could resurrect the dead.
YOUR TIDINGS IS A BOON. THANK YOU. BUT YOUR INTERPRETATION IS LIMITED.
The Winter King gestured for Lucas Chevalier to clear the floor. In the moment, the mindboggling confusion of the gentile Fairest being dismissed with such raw appeal soon became apparent as the bonfire started to sink, with something swirling beneath the iced-over chasm. Sedna stood, standing next to Lucas as she coaxed him to join her, stumbling as Nohoilpi looked to her for a nod.
CONTEXT AND EXPERIENCE WILL COME WITH THE FAVOUR YOU SPIN. I GRANT THIS PLEA.
The door of the Blue House swung open with the gale, ice sprouting and lancing the shadows in a blinding flash. Tortured silhouettes twisted and clawed, flowing around the bloodied form of Golden Boy as he cradled something wrapped and soaking through.
OUR SEASON REPRESENTS THE END, AND I SEEK TO HONOUR IT.
|
|
|
Post by Lucas Chevalier on Dec 16, 2021 11:19:17 GMT -8
While Lucas managed to stop himself from lashing out in uncontrollable anger, his emotions were still running hot.
He attempted to shove Sedna away from him so he could take off running to Golden Boy's side.
"GOLDEN BOY!"
|
|
|
Post by Golden Boy on Dec 16, 2021 12:39:30 GMT -8
Sedna stepped aside, not looking to wrestle a Unicorn overcome with emotion. She swallowed as she looked to The Boy, eyes shining with anticipation for something that was years in the making. Chevalier's grief wasn't going to interfere with that.
The ice around Golden seemed to sharpen as Lucas ran towards him, expression as stoic as he could manage with the circumstances. "Trust me, please," he murmured to the Gravewight. The glimmering amber of his eyes traced along the gathered, not faltering as they stayed on the Great Kidnapper, Lord of Sorrow. With an oddly detached choice, he gently handed his companion the large wrapped bundle to free his hands as he casually searched a myriad of pockets, before the wooden ship spun between his fingers. Lucas himself realized how uncomfortable he was getting, with the temperature dropping significantly as he stepped into the deathly aura of the haunted Dragon.
|
|
|
Post by Lucas Chevalier on Dec 16, 2021 12:51:28 GMT -8
Lucas experienced momentary relief when he realized that Golden Boy was still alive. He stared at the other Fairest with a haze of emotion in his eyes yet somehow he felt completely numb.
The wrappings were taken in silence. A long beat paused before Lucas worked past his emotions to find the will to shape words once more.
"I trust you, Golden Boy. "
Even though the coldness caused him to shiver violently and his teeth clattered loudly, he didn't move from his spot.
"I promised you I would stay with you until the end and I meant it. Even if it means standing here while whatever happens next happens. "
|
|
|
Post by Golden Boy on Dec 17, 2021 17:12:00 GMT -8
The Fairest approached Nohoilpi, eyes darting nervously to confirm Lucas was beside him, despite it all. They roved back to the Winter King as he signaled for Chevalier to hand the sovereign the bundle. His face twitched as the willowy Lost undid the cloth, revealing the head of one of the lead Hunters that had been circulated from the Ashen Hunt investigation, Adrian Szabó. Nohoilpi held it aloft, truly silent this time—perhaps taken by surprise. Golden Boy mumbled something, body rigid under the weight of the other's crown. LOUDER. Golden Boy's attention swept the whole Court."IS IT ENOUGH?" The ice cracked rather than his voice, glacial spikes piking towards those gathered in a wave, stopping inches from their faces. The Mantle collapsed and faded in a shattering cacophony, causing many of the Onyx to grimace at the level of theatrics or even the sting of guilt. Loyalty had been proven. From the Arrow's collective memory the Fairest had never killed anyone before, let alone someone accused of being a close family member.
|
|
|
Post by Krakenbox on Dec 17, 2021 18:19:49 GMT -8
MORE THAN ENOUGH.
The Winter King moved the head over the chasm where the fire once stood, as whatever force beneath surged in a gust, melting the head black as it reformed into a long shard. Sedna's earlier prompt for Lucas to move came to fruition as the floor began to crack and howls screeched beneath. That was when Nohoilpi wrapped his hands around the Moon of his Crown, prying it from his brow to dissolve into nothing.
KIN-SLAYER.
WITH THIS ACT, YOU FORGED THE KEY. THE ONE WHICH OPENS THE LOCK TO OUR DESTRUCTION.
He moved as fast as a blink, plunging the spear through the Fairest's heart and holding up the taller Lost by the throat. It melted as the King drove it home, causing Golden to seize with an expression of raw confusion.
YOU WON. I ACKNOWLEDGE THE END OF AN AGE AND HEREBY ABDICATE.
YOU HOLD IN YOUR HEART THE POWER TO END THEIR SUFFERING.
GREAT KIDNAPPER.
Nohoilpi gestured to the floor and the torrent of Sorrow and souls below.
WHICH PROMISE DO YOU HONOUR?
WHICH KINGDOM DO YOU SET FREE?
|
|
|
Post by Lucas Chevalier on Dec 20, 2021 12:47:00 GMT -8
Lucas's own confusion was as obvious and as deep as the raw confusion on Golden Boy's face. Every muscle in him twitched to intervene and checked on Golden Boy. However, the Fairest's curse held him in place, Arcadian whispers reminding him that he promised to trust in Golden Boy. Other than moving to avoid falling into the chasm, the Gravewight held still to see how Golden Boy responded to the situation before taking further action.
|
|