always one decision away from a totally different life
-- ♕ --
The sun had nearly set, the sky was a deep navy. Upon the tree-shadowed horizon, there was only a thin line of gold framing the forest. Stars began to twinkle and beneath their eternal audience, Florentine gathered the Twilight party to her.
In the fading light, she is dark and richly gold. Her skin is liquid, water struck through with gold. Her wings are held to her side, though a couple of feathers fall and join the dusting of petals at her feet.
It is the chink of silver against glass that draws the attention of her brethren and she stands where all can see her, upon a small mound. Fires still breathed into the night, their smoke drifting over their gathered members.
At her side she can feel the warm glow of Cyrene and quiet calm of Asterion. Florentine does not think she could ask for a better Regime to stand beside her. Then her eyes drift to Israfel, the only appointed member of her counsel so far. With a sweep of golden feathers, Flora called Isra up to stand beside the Regime.
“We thank you for coming tonight.” The twilight girl begins lightly. “I hope you managed to make new acquantances.” Flora drinks in every face, shadows by moonlight but limned in the gold of the dying sun.
“Some of you may have been wondering when the appointments of our champions would take place, well, the answer is now.” Her smile is bright, “Terrastella had been so quiet, but our numbers are now strong, our ranks thriving, thank you. We have been through so much: standing beside Day in their civil war, standing strong against Night. But now I seek to bring us stability, to bring honour to the worthy. With that in mind, I chose tonight as the day to appoint our Champions.”
Her eyes are electric bright. They flash in the firelight and her blood thrums in her veins. “Raymond,” Her eyes befall the red warrior. “You have shown your skills upon the Steppe. Will you continue on as our Champion of Battle?” Florentine remembers hazy days in the Rift, in a rapidly changing world. She is so far from the child she had been then, but of she is pleased that he has come from there too.
“Fiona.” The quiet girl stands amidst the crowds, her notebook held close, its pencil well worn. “Will you be our Champion of Community? Remind us the communication with our brethren is not reserved for voice and words alone but action and good will?”
“Atreus.” Her gaze shifts to the Poison Master. His name inspired doubt, but his skills were formidable, “Will you accept the position of Champion of Healing?” Florentine’s dark eyes gleamed, his future would be full of shadows and light.
“Lastly, Turhan.” Florentine drinks in the wisened Ilati, “I have heard word of your counsel, that it is good. You are learned in the ways of the earth and our goddess, will you teach that to those who desire it? Will you be our Champion of Wisdom?”
From her position the gilt fae drinks in her appointed quartet. “If you wish to accept, then please step forward so we might see and congratulate you.” With an open wing, the young queen beckons her Champions forward.
@Asterion @Cyrene @Raymond @Atreus @Turhan @Fiona | Everyone is welcome. Replies from those who have been appointed is compulsory. <3
As Florentine stepped before the gathering mass of horses, Raymond took notice. The weight of the mantle of leadership lay heavy across her spun-gold shoulders, but as she took the rise she carried it with an almost stubborn sort of poise. Perhaps power's poison had not taken root in her heart; perhaps it never would.
He felt no anticipation himself over what came next, for of course he had no expectations. This was Court business, and he had not exactly made himself agreeable to the rigidity of the courts. He was too wild, too enamored of nights spent under starlight with dust on his skin and cricketsong in his ears to lust greedily after the politics of Novus, and he could hardly say he'd arrived with the best of impressions in hand. Still, curiosity abounded as the flower maiden's speech progressed.
And a spark of surprise lit the harsh angles of his brow as his name burst forth from her lips.
Raymond straightened. Champion of Battle: an unexpected vote of confidence from the young mare, and perhaps undeserved if only by his attitude alone. But there was no doubt in his mind - or hers, it seemed - that he could do the work, and the girl who once saved Ruth would be better served with him in the traces rather than walking alongside. Raymond could be better served, too, though exactly how might remain to be seen. Frowning pensively, ignoring whatever possibly-expectant stares might be leveled upon his red flesh, he considered only for a moment before breaking out in a soft, grateful smile.
He stepped forward, nodding respectfully to accentuate the automatic tail blade salute that would normally have been the extent of his deferential behavior, and answered with steel in his voice. "I will do my best, my lady."
A vote of confidence given, a vote of confidence reciprocated. Perhaps they could make a good team after all.
Raymond. and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
I've gone a million miles
With the same crooked smile
There is still so much that Atreus doesn’t know. The evening had been, for the most part, a pleasurable one. It had presented the opportunity to view those who also called Terrastella home, allowing the silver-dusted man to know their faces and a few of their faces. When he could, he would linger nearby, aloof as he gazed off in another direction but with an ear twitching in the direction of a group’s conversation every now and then. There was much he wished to learn and knowledge he fully intended to seek out in the future, but for now, Atreus was content to quietly test the waters of his old home and its new inhabitants.
His eyes had periodically gazed upon the gilded form of the Sovereign, always from afar as she seemed to be the highlight of attention for many. It had been a disappointment, if he were being honest, but it was alright – he would have his chance eventually, when they were alone.
It was she who called them all to gather, and with a curious quirk of his brow the poison master stepped closer. If Fiona were present, it was to she that he chose to linger beside, but not too close. He listened with keen interest as she spoke of her counsel and its myriad of vacant positions, only to begin listing off those she wished to see fill the holes of her Court.
The names fall away from her lips one by one – Raymond, a man of deep red with an anomalous tail, to be given the title of Champion of Battle – Fiona, sweet and delicate like the flower her hide resembled, awarded the position of Champion of Community – Turhan, that old codger Atreus had known for so long, now dubbed Champion of Wisdom if he so accepted. And then… then, there was him, offered to be the Champion of Healing.
Atreus fought the pull of a wicked smile as he stepped forward.
“Oh,” the halfblood began, his surprise counterfeit but convincing with practiced ease as he dipped his head to Florentine, “It would be my highest honor to accept your most gracious offer, dear Florentine.” A grin was present on his face, but its degeneracy was concealed. “I won’t let you down.”
And I always give you all you need
But I can see that you're dancing with the devil
<333
be careful with that one, love, he will do what it takes to survive
all contact is permitted and encouraged
06-12-2018, 04:52 AM - This post was last modified: 06-12-2018, 05:40 AM by Atreus
Fiona enjoyed such get togethers as the one Florentine had put together, irregardless of the obvious obstacle she faced when in the company of so many others. The lavender painted girl moved steadily through the crowd, offering a smile to everyone who met her eye. Although she held her notebook and pencil close, as always, she had yet to use it. There were so many other ways she could show her affection and appreciation for her fellow court members than words alone could convey. A friendly brush of her shoulder, a simple nodding of her head. Over the years she had learned to speak without having to utter a single syllable.
Fortunately for her, most seemed to understand her silent language.
When Flora called them together, standing strong before her people—gilded and wreathed in soft petals—Fiona stepped toward her, pausing just on the edge of the crowd. And when a body stepped up beside her, familiar in its red hue, she could not help but turn her head slightly to regard the mysterious man from the swamp. Had he received her sketch, she wondered, and if so, what did he think?
The words that slipped past Florentine’s lips caught the lavender girl off guard. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she breathed in sharply. Her, a champion of the court, and Champion of Community, nonetheless? Although her gaze searched her queen’s face for anything other than the truth: that she believed in Fiona, her own thoughts searched within herself for the same belief. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t a big step for someone who was mute, but it was a step she was ready to take. She nodded her head just once, her expression slowly shifting from surprise to determination as she stepped forward to accept her place.
Momentarily, she had been distracted by the rest of Flora’s announcement, though one in particular stole her attention quite completely. When the man next to her stepped up to accept his position as Champion of Healing, Fiona realized she finally had a name for the face that had occupied her thoughts often since their meeting in Tinea. So, he was Atreus… and yet, there was still so much more she did not know. Perhaps, she thought, as she came to stand beside him again, she would have a chance to learn more.
There in the twilight-hour, when the dusky sky turned the faint gloaming of his hide to shame and the fireflies passed among the trees like fairy lights, Asterion went to stand beside his queen.
As always he is proud to stand near her, proud and plain to her dark gold. This near to her the world is scented of flowers, though none of them are ones he can name. The blossoms that grew throughout her tangled gold were no native species here.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of light, a slim ghost in the dusk. Asterion shook his head minutely, warning his companion to keep back – it had not taken them long together for him to learn of her large and undainty appetite, and he needed no gull snatching food off of people’s plates.
He was silent throughout, though he offered a smile and a nod to Israfel as she came to join them, and his gaze traveled the faces of his court just as Florentine’s did.
As the Champions were named his dark-eyed gaze touched on each of them, and he smiled warmly as they came forward.
“I look forward to working with each of you,” he said, once each had accepted. “Congratulations, Champions of Dusk. Together, all of us – “ and here his gaze swept the rest of those gathered - “will make something remarkable of this Court.”
