The phrase repeats itself over and over again in Ipomoea's mind, a play on a childhood tune he remembers hearing a lifetime ago. No matter how hard he tries to forget it sticks in the back of his mind, a grim and foreboding reminder of the current events occurring within the Dawn Court.
It had been Po the Orphan Boy who had listened to that story, once upon a time. But it was Ipomoea the Regent who stood here today.
"Ahem." He clears his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Below the raised stone step he stands upon, a sea of Delumine faces stare up at him. Po tries to smile, but he's afraid it may look more like a grimace and gives up.
"Thank you all for gathering today, I know there are... pressing matters you might wish to return to." It takes all of his diplomatic training to keep his voice warm and steady, trying with all his might to appear reassuring. "I will try to keep this meeting succinct."
He takes a breath, an excuse to have a moment to scan the amassed crowd, to look the faces in their eyes. Many are familiar - and many are not. He tries in vain to root out the faces of his friends, but there isn't time. 'Maybe they didn't come.'
"Firstly, I wish to introduce you all to @Pavetta. Many of you know her as a Caretaker - but she has graciously come forward in the absence of Orion, and has been granted the role of Emissary in his place. Be welcomed Pavetta, let this be the first step to a successful running." His smile is genuine - as it always is - as he points out the striped and dappled mare from their ranks. 'It's always best to start on a lighter note,' he reflects to himself, watching the crowd react to the promotion. 'Pavetta will fit the rank well, I think.'
After that, there's little time for him to think.
"I know we have suffered, both as a Court and as a family. I will take the time now to thank all of those who have aided in the fires, evacuations, and other emergency preparations. Your valor and devotion has not gone unnoticed. We thank you. It is because of you that we stand here still today." Another pause, this time to wait for the small reactions and applause from the crowd. 'They are as tired as they look,' he realized. He couldn't blame them; it was turning out to be a long and painful winter.
"Reports tell us the fire is controlled in part, but continues to grow. Our need for volunteers becomes greater each day. Please, if you are willing and able, we ask that you join the front lines - we need horses to gather food and haul water, to care the wounded, to clear a perimeter about the fire... and to fight the fire itself. We are a family, and now is the time to act as one, together. We are strong with each other's support." Ipomoea scans the crowd once more. "If you wish to help, speak to any of the Regime or Counsel to find out how."
He glances at his list, mentally checking off the topics in his mind. It gives the appaloosa a chance to recollect himself - and spares him a minute from addressing the crowd. Ipomoea fears he will become distracted if he looks at them for too long, for their emotions are all in raw display in front of him. He has always been an emotional equine; what he sees today makes his heart ache. But he was determined to appear strong - if only for them.
He clears his throat again, painfully aware now of how much smoke lingers in the air. The sky is nearly grey - but remarkably lighter and clearer than the skies over Viride, he knew. Still, he wished he could see the sun.
"For those of you who have been hurt, or displaced from your homes by the fires, we have shelter for you at the capitol. Beds, food, fresh water - we have plenty for all. Please, spread the word so that everyone will feel welcomed. We will also accept those from other Courts who find themselves in Delumine during these troubling times. Any in need of a home, we have room for you."
And with that being said, he dips his head and closes his notebook, shifting nervously once more. "That is all I have for you today. Stay safe, Delumine. If you have any questions or matters of importance to discuss, I will answer as best I can."
hearts are breaking
wars are raging on
you’ve got me nervous
i’m at the end of my rope
hey, man, we can’t all be like you
i wish we were all rose-colored too
my rose-colored boy
@everyone ! this isn't mandatory, but the Regime is addressing the recent disasters! if your character has any questions, has need or assistance, or would like to volunteer, feel free to post!
also congratulating @pavetta / @Pres on becoming our new Emissary! c:
”here am i!“
If she were being honest with herself, she picked one hell of a time to wander into Novus. First of all, it was downright cold. Sloane was not quite so accustomed to the chill of the winter mornings and she often wondered if she might have been better off having some sort of fire making ability. At least then she could start herself a fire and keep herself warm by it. And this precisely brings her to point number two.
Secondly, she just so happened to wander into a damn wildfire – one that was engulfing this area in flames, growing bigger by the moment. She did not like the way the air was replaced with smoke. It made her lungs burn and it really made her want to do nothing productive. Not only that, but the smell of smoke was nauseating. It made her feel as though she could upchuck her breakfast. Definitely not the best time to wander into this new place.
And yet, she stumbled on a meeting, a meeting of herd members. Was she really considered a member? She wandered here, asked for directions, and was pointed this way. Did that really make her a productive member of society? No. In fact, she really disliked herd life. They called meetings and actually expected her to do something to benefit the group. She wasn’t here to benefit the group, she was here to benefit herself.
And yet, as she meandered through the gathering of unfamiliar faces, she couldn’t help but allow her ears to perk forward at the mention that any who needed it, there was help here. Free food. Free shelter. Free protection. It didn’t sound like half a bad idea. Perhaps she could lay low here for a little while. Perhaps there was something worthwhile in this place that she had simply not discovered yet.
But there was still something that kept her on edge. Nothing was ever simply given away for free. Everything required a cost. What was the cost that this stallion was asking for? To take something for free was a sign of weakness. She could not appear weak. Perhaps it was best if she did not partake in the free food, free shelter, and free protection. No. She needed to earn her keep.
And so, the mare steps forward as the crowd is beginning to disperse. She does not want to seem too eager, so she meanders at a slow pace. But eventually, she makes it to the front of the group. “…and what will this cost me? Surely food and shelter is not something you are giving away so freely.” It did not occur to her, or if it did, she didn’t care, that she was a new face here. She was the stranger. She was essentially an intruder upon their land. This stallion had no need to answer her and yet she asked anyway. She did not even start with her name, a friendly introduction, or a grand entrance. She slipped in past the shadows, undetected. It was only now that she made them aware that she had arrived.
Ash and soot marred the typical bright gold of his coat, but Somnus paid it little mind. This was not the time for fretting about his appearance, not when the people of his Court were displaced and fearful. What else would be taken from them? What else would they lose? They clung to their families and friends, grasped their most important possessions close. Cried for their lost homes and lost friends, unaccounted for as the fires waged war around them.
It broke his heart.
Somnus did not have time to even think about how disheveled he appeared, how his mane and tail and wings were burnt from staying so long at the fires’ edge, his coat seemingly permanently stained with ash and dust, hooves stained black from char. He did not want to. Instead, he shared the grief and fear of his people. He cried with them, he held them close and offered them soothing words, he did what he could to stand valiantly alongside his Warden and those fighting on the front lines as they bucketed waters and dug trenches and did everything in their mortal power to alter the paths of the unrelenting wildfires.
It seemed that they had little victory. Whenever one fire was dampened or even put out, another would ignite in its place. How could they win against a force that never seemed to dwindle? How could they save their home? Something needed to be done, but Somnus found himself beginning to wonder just what the origins of it all could be. Every day he prayed to Oriens, to his Lord of Wisdom and Justice, praying for assistance, for guidance, for mercy to come to their home and province.
There was a meeting, Somnus knew, housed by Ipomoea. He was late to the arrival, and guilt clung to his heart like a vice. Still, his dutiful Regent handled the pressure beautifully, the appaloosa’s youthful face plagued with worry and sincerity, speaking eloquently and using the poise and grace he had developed as a brilliant emissary to his advantage. Timid as he could be, Ipomoea had a way with words that made even Somnus envious and proud. Mostly proud, of course. The dunalino came to stand a few paces behind his Regent, watching the younger male’s back as he lingered, letting him guide and control the meeting to how he saw fit. Above them all, Alba wheeled through the air before fluttering down to land upon her bond-mate’s shoulders.
Verdant eyes then scanned the faces gathered, spotting friends and strangers alike among the crowd. Then, his eyes focused once more upon Ipomoea as his speech came to a lull, and slowly Somnus approached from behind him, hooves guiding him closer so that he came to stand at his brother’s side.
“Well done, little brother,” Somnus offered affectionately in a softly spoken tone, casting Po a lethargic and apologetic smile, “You handle yourself beautifully. Apologies for not arriving sooner, but it seems like you were more than capable of handling this on your own, hm?”
From there, he lingered and watched. The crowds seemed to deliberate among themselves, watching, waiting, speaking as though ruminating over the words of their speckled Regent. One figure finally broke through the crowd, approaching with a straightforward confidence. Somnus’ gaze assessed her quietly, quickly trying to recognize her, but he did not. She was a stranger, a foreigner to their lands.
Brows raised, the Dawn King listened as she spoke. An ear flicked forward in concern and intrigue. ’Cost?’ Verdant eyes stared at the dark colored woman, patient and kind. He then glanced to Ipomoea, wondering if the Regent knew who this woman was. Perhaps she was new to their Court, arriving to their province while the wildfires raged around them?
“’Cost’ you?” Somnus repeated, as though perplexed by the notion. Upon his shoulders, Alba’s head tilted curiously to the side, watching the newcomer as well. “Food and shelter are free to any who need it. We’ve plenty to provide and right now, many who call Delumine home are in grievous need of assistance.”
A pause, but then the Dawn King went on, his accented voice still set in that constant, patient, soothing pitch. “If you are able bodied, any assistance will be beneficial to protect Delumine and be greatly appreciated, but that is never something we would force anyone to do. No. Should you need assistance, simply say so, and we will do all we can to remedy your needs.” Another pause, this one a bit longer than the others, and Alba’s beady black eyes remained rooted upon the dark mare standing before the lingering crowd. Abruptly, Somnus smiled, warm and welcome.
“I don’t believe we’ve met, Miss, but is there something we can do to assist you?”
Her life had been anything but easy. It seemed as though even from birth, Sloane spent all of her time fighting. She fought for the teat amongst her triplet siblings. She fought for acceptance from her mother (which she never received). She fought for independence upon weaning. And now, she fought to provide for her own basic needs. Sloane spent so much of her time trying to survive that she rarely put any time into making friends or rather, trying not to make enemies. Her personality can come off as brash and uncaring, but those are qualities that Sloane never had to care about. She had to be tough and persistent if she was going to make it through life.
So now, as she stands here listening to a speech, she cannot help but cock her head at the mention of food and shelter and assistance. Never once has she been given anything for free, so its hard for her to believe that this male is offering her that. So she has to question his motives. Surely there is some other reason that he’s offering these things. Surely he has some other agenda.
And so, she asks him what the cost is. Perhaps it is so many years of service, her body, or her knowledge about the world outside of Novus. She’s not sure she has something he’s looking for, but at least she can say she asked the question. And instead of him answering, she hears another approach. She recognizes him from the fire. He had been valiantly trying to put out the flames but she had not introduced herself. At the time, she didn’t see a need to.
For once in her life, Sloane is quiet as she listens to him speak, her curiosity peaking about what sort of cost these two might come up with. But what comes from his mouth is nothing short of shocking. She supposed her jaw had dropped just slightly. In fact, she probably was staring at them rather rudely as she tried so hard to wrap her mind around what they were saying. Free? These things were free? Surely not. But he continued, sticking to his original story. “Nothing is ever free…” Not once had she ever seen anything given for free. Everything came at a cost, whether that be in favors, in money, or in secrets…but never free. “I don’t have any skills you would want.” In fact, she doesn’t have any skills period. She’s good at being a fly on the wall, but that’s about it. Getting her to actually lift a hoof for a cause is hard to come by. It’s got to benefit her in some way.
Her eyes scan the two and the bird. They seem rather dumbfounded, perhaps not. Perhaps they were perplexed as to why a complete stranger was asking them strange questions. If they knew where she had come from and where she was going, they might not think her questions were strange at all.
And just before she was about to turn and take her leave, the golden boy speaks up. Eyes glance up at him and unlike his that are warm and welcoming, hers show distrust and hesitancy. Sloane had never been very good at trusting. “My name is Sloane…” She didn’t like to be called “miss” or “ma’am” or even any version of “hey you”. Sloane was the name she had chosen for herself, her mother not caring enough to give her one. “…but I don’t need charity.” She could never accept something for free. It didn’t feel right. Perhaps she had just been mistreated so much in her life, that when kindness did finally befall her, she didn’t recognize it.
