[AW] and I could cry power [Meeting]

[Boleyn]

My crown I am, but still my griefs are mine.
You may my glories and my state depose,
but not my griefs; still am I king of those.

Shifts came all throughout one’s long and tedious life. They came in various forms that ranged from the mental to the physical, but they were classified as “change” nonetheless. I had fallen helplessly through too many phases of my life, whereupon I felt utterly powerless to avoid or control the outcome - but wasn’t that just the irony of it? The sheer paradox of living? After relaxing a fighter’s hand in search of justice or vengeance, I had finally settled into a new and interesting shift that I hadn’t been expecting to find in Novus. It was the settling of my bones after so many years and the slow halting and grinding of gears that had been too well-oiled since I was just a boy. To find that I was fostering an affinity for Denocte was something of a surprise, but to find myself further endeared to this place to a point of feeling like I belonged... Well, that was some fucking news to me indeed.

It was news that seemed to cling to me in the few weeks it took me to realize that I was slowly acclimating to the Night Court and their beatific city. Even as the nights blazed cooler with winter’s impending doom, I was content to let the chill and shadow embrace me like a mysterious lover. It was and continued to be a sensational rapture built from the ancient dwellings still haunting the civilization’s stark memory. It seemed to loom above all who stood below it, a visceral reminder of the possibilities laid bare from the past. It made me crave the history beyond the walls and shaven stone. But I’d yet to make many “friends” aside from the petal-like creature called Caelum. She was surely an interesting companion that I still sought to interrogate when time permitted, but that time had become increasingly limited as I’d adjusted. In fact, I’d yet to make honest my intentions to visit that damn tea shop… even if it was an element of trust that I wasn’t sure I could allow our tentative friendship. However, the fact remained that visiting her was also something of a double-edged sword. It garnered the promise of gaining some basic knowledge on the medic’s working education but also put us both in a rather poisonous situation. Myself in particular.

As the evening splendor of another night threatened to paint the sky in a sheet of midnight stars, I caught wind of yet another shift in my life. It wasn’t so much a subtle call to action or anything so cosmic as fate, but rather the gathering or Denocte denizens. It was just a trickling of nameless faces at first, but one by one they appeared to be trailing eagerly toward points unknown. Call me curious or just a fool, I decided it was best to investigate their cause in search of an answer for the casual chaos that seemed to be drawing them forth. Now, given that I was not quite hip on the tradition or really anything concerning the Night Court, I was mildly caught off guard to find that a meeting had been called in one of the massive courtyards within the “heartland”... or whatever you wanted to call it. Sue me for being a simpleton.

However, at the helm of such a gathering was a creature both mythical and incredible. Forgive a man for not experiencing a fairytale-given-life, but that woman was sheer blasphemy after my minimal exposure to her likes. She was a pale vision accented in gold that peered out over the gathered followers with eyes more crimson than the setting sun. It looked as though she was directing the discord with an air of assuredness that made me want to question who the hell she was and what was going on. But before I could rightly approach or even set my mind right, I caught sight of Caelum near the head of the conclave. Funny that I wasn’t surprised to see her there, right little heathen that she was.

Never taking a joke or possibly ‘no’ for an answer...

Though she was likely just taking the high road instead of being tempted toward my more hellish suggestions.

I’d just give it more time.

I smiled to myself as I watched her from my distant position toward the rear of all those in attendance. I couldn’t determine a strict protective regimen here, but if training and experience had taught me anything, it was that you’d only find the most obvious trouble at the head of the snake. So instead of approaching Caelum like I would have liked, I remained cemented at the back with my eyes rolling across the backs of those I was thus entreated to protect. (The snake’s tail being the less obvious point of attack and all that.)

What a strange place to be, given that I hardly knew these creatures...  Was it odd for them to face me and experience that sense of “what if”? Like… what if I decided I didn’t fucking like them and let some stranger with deep pockets tempt me from my post?

Just little worries like that.

Maybe it was just a me thing, but I really considered it a them thing for now.

Since it appeared that I was the last of the bunch to find their way to the intensive meeting, I was the last to really gather that the feminine beauty with a bird of prey perched at her shoulder was actually our Sovereign. Well, fuck me. If I’d aimed some googly eyes at her, then Gods forgive me, I’d sinned. However, that hysteria waned quite quickly as she addressed the crowd with the knowledge or rather a vision regarding her reign over Denocte. To me, it sounded like the previous leader had fallen short and this gal had stepped up to assume a more active position despite him… or her…

Whoever Ira was.

It was hard to tell.

However, I wasn’t displeased to find that this place was a court of misfits - it actually seemed fitting - but I was a little intrigued to find that stagnancy (or complacency?) had become something of an issue. Were they prone to confrontation or inner-court agencies?

Of course Id’ been the shitheel dumb enough to join the ranks of a bunch of land pirates living on a dream…

It was during my own internal recourse that I caught the pitchy repeal of a blossom-like song working its way through the crowd. In fact, I was utterly wrenched from thought when Caelum decided it was best to essentially challenge an unchallenged leader who balanced precariously between the new and old ideals of the damn Night court. Pirates or not, even I knew she was asking for trouble in trying to mete out her demands so soon out of the gate. A mild chuckle drifted out from between my pursed lips at her appeal, my eyes drifting from one new face to the next, as I considered her words. This little tribe was in for a shift all their own it seemed… and I guess that now, I was somehow a part of it. It felt like an utter waste of time, truly it did, because this seemed to be more of a “welcoming committee” than a “get-your-shit-tgoether” kind of house call, but I had to know who the hell was who and what the hell was what. When an appropriate pause in ambitious conversation finally aroused, I craned my head toward the ethereal lady I now called... Queen? “You got a war general or something? Can’t say I’ve gotten my footing here as a Soldier your… highness? I’m kind of looking for a solid chain of command when you have the time.”

Goddamn. Way to be slick. Or stupid.

Boleyn

[Vikander]

This cloudy morn
I threw your bones outside
A ritual
In the garden soil
Oh my love
I'll always come back to you
And oh, sweet heart
How long will you fight?

Vikander did not speak a single word during the meeting.

His eyes, pools of cold, merciless blue, stared hard at the new Sovereign with little care or desire to really interject his own opinions on the matter. Truly, so long as he could focus on his works, his studies, and his experiments without interruption by this new Queen, he really didn’t care what she did or how she ruled her Court.

This was, after all, just a place where he resided. It was not a home, not to him. It was useful. The markets permitted trades and access to rare and valuable goods otherwise unable to found within Novus, and so he hadn’t found it necessary to move on. Not yet. Not that he really could, even if he wanted to.

The halls of the Scarab remained protected, enchanted by his very own magics and abilities. His attic remained full, and until it was empty, Vikander would not be leaving Denocte.

Others spoke up, and an ebony ear flicked in idle interest as they broached their concerns, raising their voices to question this new Queen. He listened without truly caring, and spotted Caelum amongst the crowd. She was the first to really speak, and he huffed a single laugh in amusement at her brazen attitude. She certainly appeared to be a far cry from the wretched little fae-thing he had crossed paths with so many seasons ago.

From beneath the hood of his cloak, heavy and comforting, Vikander watched her. Even as she grew silent and stepped back, yet not complacent, simply waiting, the stallion watched. It was simply how he learned; why boast and posture and state your facts to be publicly known when you can keep your opinions and learnings to yourself, and use as leverage down the line? No, this meeting was not for him, and he showed it by keeping his mouth shut.

It was, however, an opportunity to learn… And so Vikander stood at the back of the gathering, watching with apathetic eyes as others came and went. A cloaked doe appeared, thinking herself sneaky, as though she wouldn’t be recognized, and the enchanter simply rolled his eyes. Melodromatics. He would send a messenger to inform the Lady Israfel later on of his findings. Denocte had no does, after all.

As the meeting progressed, he found his stare wandering once more to the fae lady for a brief moment before he settled back within himself once more. Apathetic. Uncaring. It was just better this way.

"Speaking."

credits

[Reinhart]

To hold my tongue except when I try to pray...

Home. It was strange to think about Denocte being the place he called home. After he had left her behind, he had wanted to make her just a memory. There was something about the Night Court that he just couldn't shake no matter how much distance and bodies he put between him and the court. Caligo always calls him back. He wonders if the streets still remember the name Ezra. There is no doubt in his mind that he will be heavily reprimanded for his actions. Vogelsteins didn't just disappear from the world they lived in. Reinhart did. He vanished without so much as a crumb left behind. The gray bronc smiles at the thought. Although there is something different about him now. The silver tongue cannot readily read others as well as he used to. 

It bothers him that he has to rely so heavily on muscle memory. As if he has somehow forgotten something very important. He does not know that the cause of this is the absence of his magic. Reinhart drifts toward the meeting that causes whispers to fill the streets about a new Sovereign. Isra was the Sovereign when he left. But the powers shifting never really surprised him. It always did. Power was something that would never belong to him, and he was content with that. There was a large gathering of bodies and a woman standing at the helm of the meeting. She looks like fire beneath a winter sun.

Israfel children whisper to him as they rush past. Ezra one of them adds. It is a soft welcome home for the child who loves the streets of Denocte so fondly. Reinhart does not join the growing throng of bodies, but instead, he stands and waits to see if their new leader has any wisdom she wishes to share. Wisdom, promises, power, and foolish mistakes. That was all that Sovereigns were made of to him.

 

... try to breathe words out, But I’ve got nothing to say