REICHENBACH ERWIN ROMMEL Dusk had left the sky, fading rapidly as the heady air became ever darker, the sky turning inky and star-filled. Raucous sounds filled the air: laughter, singing, the thud of hooves as Denoctians danced through flame and shadow underneath Calligo's joyous gaze. Reichenbach stood in the market square - had done so for quite some time, watching the dusk fade slowly, slowly. It was time to call the rest of the Court together, to announce whom had already taken up the positions in their court and to announce who would be filling the remaining slots. Watching the dancing torches that surrounded the square, Reichenbach considered leaving the meeting for another night, then looked to the diverse mix of faces that cavorted past. The sooner the court was complete, the safer they would be. While Reichenbach had met with both Dusk and Dawn and found both Sovereigns agreeable (and delightful), he had yet to officially meet with Maxence. They'd fought, yes. Reichenbach had emerged the victor - and no doubt that would not sit easily upon the soldier-King's shoulders. Lothaire was there now, speaking with the Solterran's, learning what he could to aid in his position as Emissary. There was no court more different to Night than Day. Denoctians as a stereotype were a diverse people, coming from all walks of life with varying opinions and skills. They danced and they fought, they sang and they learned. Solterra as a stereotype was filled with military, harsh souls that felt more comfortable killing than singing. There were exceptions to the rule - he'd met some himself - but overall, the two courts could not have clashed more. So it was concern for his people that led Reichenbach to announce a summons, roaring out a call that echoed once, twice, three times throughout Denocte. For those that would not hear the call, the Crows would find. Court meeting! Attendance is not mandatory, but if your character wants to "be in the know" I suggest attending! Tagging the current Court of Dreams & a few others! @Camdis @Lothaire (or Loth can still be in Solterra, your choice) @Rostislav @Araxes @Aislinn @Judal @Hugan @Dvalinn @Polunin |
All Welcome - The Court of Dreams —
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 HUGAN GRAVES
Let me paint this clear, life is short, my dear.
The sound of festivities roared around the stallion. Mares, stallions, and foals danced. Equine laughed and sang. Hugan was never much of a party man. He found himself on the outskirts, laying across a raggedy blanket as an elderly merchant talked his ear off about her days as a child. He listened with a soft smile on his face, one ear in her direction, and one in the direction of the crowd. He had been to many nations such as this, but also many so different. There were some, he remembered, that rejoiced and celebrated every morning, welcoming a new light. Then there were some who would not think about being outside when the sun's bright rays released its grasp on the land. Where he found himself now, he figured, was somewhere in between. The people of the Night Court sure did enjoy their festivities as soon as the moon replaced the sun.
Shifting against his place on the blanket, Hugan let out a soft sigh and leaned back against the dark wall of the market place. His long matted hair fell over his blind eye, shading half of his striped face. His horn let off a soft glow, reflecting the light from the dancing fires in the streets. The sound of a flutter of wings caught his attention, causing him to pick up his gaze. His neck craned as he watched another - a pegasus - shoot to the sky and soar above the court.
It was then that a loud call sounded, summoning the people of the court. Hugan's ears shifted forward, his bird skull earring bouncing against his cheek. Careful not to mess up the blankets he was laying on, Hugan pulled himself to his hooves. He dipped his head politely to the old woman beside him and excused himself before making his way toward the source of the summoning. His tail swept behind him as he went, ears laid back in a content manner.
Stopping before the king, the stallion brushed his mane from his face with a flick of his mind. He stood square on his hooves, head held above his shoulders, green gaze focused ahead as he waited patiently for whatever it was to come.
@Reichenbach, im just pretending this is after our current thread if thats okay? So Hugan already knows who your boy is and vice versa <3
His dreams and waking hours both were haunted by the phantom agony and velvety voice of his vision. He would wake gasping, covered in sweat, with a concerned Raglan hovering over him, mint tea and a pitcher of water hovering at his side. Camdis would clench his teeth and blink, try to slow his racing heart and control his erratic breath, and shake his head at the question in his ward's jeweled eyes. It was a source of shame to the horned regent, this fear that coursed through his veins and the words that circled about his mind nearly every moment, an echo of the creature in his vision. Questions plagued him, yet a new strength bolstered his physical form; a sort of sturdiness that coated his frame and whisked away the pain that used to grasp at his joints. Most of the stallion was convinced that the specter in his dream had been Caligo, but the skeptical portion that remained screamed that it was no more than a demon - but a demon with a voice like the void? A demon with enough power to wrench his body away from him? A demon who's entire being emanated a terrible, all-consuming power? What sort of demon could traipse about in the guise of a god? Make it dark like the Void... Camdis Lohir the Devout, the smallfolk had taken to calling him in the streets. The Exile King, The Holy Son... The names went on and on. Yet, despite his association with religion, with worship and love for their patron goddess, the stallion had not been to the holy mountain to speak with his god. He had been there to sully the name of Solis and attempt to make a woman's skin crawl beneath his gaze, but he hadn't been able to drag himself to that sacred precipice again. Not with the terror that dragged at his steps every time he considered that his wretched vision hadn't been a blessing but a reckoning and a curse. What if Caligo hated him? Hated what he had done and hated who he had become? The possibility was too painful to bear. Camdis was about to delve into that exact brand of agonizing thought when Raglan appeared between the library stacks. Brows raising, the Stained Hand rose from his place among his cushions and approached his ward. "Is it time already?" Came his murmured question - the pair had become familiar enough to forego greetings, "I hadn't even noticed." Moving down the aisle with the winged yearling at his side, Camdis shoved thoughts of Caligo and demons away; those sort of dark things had no place in the spotlight of the Court. The pair walked through the winding labyrinth of halls and passages that made up the innards of the Nightfort in a companionable silence, moving close enough to each others' sides that Raglan's feathers would brush against Camdis' ribs every so often. Then, as the two emerged from the darkness of the keep and into the starlit open, Raglan lead the Regent across the courtyard and down the many carved steps toward the marketplace. Among the frolicking and dancing Denoctians stood their chosen king, the sight of his chocolate pelt sent a thrill down Camdis' spine and he found himself grinning. Indeed, the ruby stained stallion's smile could only grow as he and the Silvertongue Crow approached to stand at Reichenbachs right. Dipping his head, Camdis leaned to the left to bump the sovereign's shoulder with his own in a show of friendship and camaraderie; Camdis knew that even among the children of one's own nation, a King could still feel alone. "Looking forward to announcing a cranky old bastard as your Regent?" Came his playful greeting, silvery eyes sparkling with mirth, "Raglan promised not to gossip, but I have a feeling the Crows are already aware of my new position." Shooting a smirk at the yearling, Camdis chuckled at the ever so slight widening of his ward's eyes - the boy was a good liar, but he needed more practice at not giving himself away with silent queues. @Reichenbach
It was rather fun for the lad to watch the changes in Camdis Lohir's demeanor depending on where he was and who he was with. Raglan's shrewd opal eyes had learned much of the generally cranky young stallion's behavior in the short time that they had been paired. Often, he wondered at what had made the male such a rough figure at such a young age - only a year or two older than Raglan himself - but he refused to ask the Regent and he couldn't glean an answer from petty glances and careful breaths. Despite this, though, the lad had grown a soft spot for the scarlet stained man; he was kind to Raglan and never asked of him something that the boy may not be comfortable with. It was an odd sensation, to be trusted and valued among those that he did not rescue from the cobbles and smoke of the city. Rather, Camdis and Reichenbach had flipped the tables, rescuing the yearling and the rest of the Crows from poverty and filth, placing them among jewels and wealth and giving them a purpose beyond survival. So as he escorted Camdis from the library and into the marketplace, their silence comfortable and familiar, the Silvertongue did not pull away or flinch when his feathers brushed against the Regent's side. The pair slowed to stand beside the Orphan King, Camdis' face breaking into a grin and his eyes brightening more and more every second. A small smile of his own began to stir upon Raglan's features, dark lips curling at the prospect of the heat and adoration that grew between the two stallions; in any other position, the pair would have probably acted upon their feelings, but it seemed that each of them were blinded by their sense of duty and could not see what was plainly before them. Such a pity, unrequited love. Ears perking as he heard his name fall from Camdis' tongue, Raglan worked to keep his expression neutral as his guardian discussed his suspicions. It was an effort not to defend himself, to protest his obvious guilt, but the boy dared not say a word in front of the First Crow - Reichenbach would know, just as he always knew, so there was no point in denying it. Instead, the youth let his jeweled eyes wander across the crowd, gaze catching on a pegasus mare shooting into the sky, a silver haired lass chatting with a comically small stallion... All things that were to be expected within the Court of Dreams and Smoke. Yet, where were the Crows? Where were the children of shadows that lurked beneath the gaze of watchers unseen and unknown? Where were the true Children of Denocte? @Reichenbach @Hugan @Aislinn @Margot all mentioned
Back into the court itself, I wander with Damaris at my side, dogging my steps. (See what I did there?) We both move quietly, or at least, it would seem that way to me. In reality, I'm much louder than my companion, the figurative bull in the china shop, so to speak. I hear in the night, above the sounds of the night birds and insects, the trumpeting summons from my King and friend, Reichenbach. A grin spreads on my face. I break out into a headlong gallop, toward the sound of his call. Damaris howls and chases after me, and I feel her joy meet mine. I'm happy, she's happy that I'm happy, and I'm happy that.... Well, you get it. It doesn't take long to arrive at the festivities that I didn't even realize were going to take place. I toss my head in anticipation of a very good night. I push through buildings, decorations, searching for him. And just like that -- his handsome bay face there before a small gathering, eyes gleaming. I gaze at those present and realize that I have done a very poor job of meeting the denizens of Denocte. Though I've certainly made an effort, I only recognize two faces besides the King. One, Aislinn... the stormy mare that I fought in the Steppe. I smirk, remembering her ferocity. What a woman... There is a tiger striped unicorn, his horn dark but decorated with emeralds. Handsome fellow... At Damaris's comment I snort, dismissing it even though I agree. A younger palomino female, devoid of both horn and wings, stands there as well. Then I see him. Really see him. "CAMDIS!" I bellow, pure euphoria in my voice. I haven't seen Camdis for.. who knows how long. The handsome, blood-painted unicorn became one of my closest friends somehow in just one sitting. Literal sitting. I remember the peaceful lake-watching vividly. I rush toward him, Damaris tiptoeing into the gathering behind me, unsure of how everyone will react to, well, a hellhound. I glance from Camdis to Reichenbach, and back. "Camdis AND Reichenbach?! Well I'm a lucky bastard aren't I? Fuck everything else, THIS is a cause for celebration!" I trumpet my joy, more expressive in my emotion than I am at basically any other point in.... ever. Happiest, for certain! With a wild eye I look around, including down at the flask around my neck, "Where the bloody hell is my vodka when I need it?!" Just LET THEM stare! Tag: @Reichenbach @Camdis @Margot @Aislinn @Hugan et al His flask has no vodka in it :( but maybe he'll find that little faeries stuffed fruit in it to ferment?! or if y'all got alcohol at this party.. Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak Rostislav
more than a drunken fool
 T he night was bountiful in music and laughter and fire as the stars yawned awake, shimmering their good mornings like sea pearls high above them all. A giggle and shriek of sheer bliss ripped from the chestnut lovely's throat, her hooves and legs dancing fluidly amongst the throng of warm bodies in the crowded square. Embers shot towards the sky like fireworks as she stepped into the fire dance, her delicate frame graceful and in time with the music. She twirled, her thoughts lost and her blood thrumming, a gasp escaping her as she nearly bumped into a winged mare with hair the color of starlight. Enthralled, she stepped out of the circle of revelers, panting in the humid summer air. Emerald orbs like shining jewels found the dark sealy mare once more, following her gaze upwards and over the crowd to.. their king.But not just any king. Her King of Thieves, the sovereign of shadows and falling stars, the incarnation of Night itself. Crafted from Calligo's darkness and chosen by the Goddess herself. She quickly collected herself, her face losing all traces of emotion -- of her laughter, her happiness -- as she moved towards the wall surrounding the city square. Observant, a wraith; a shadow the color of a burned sunset over a desert. Little but fierce, Mila navigated the crowds with ease; her eyes ever wandering and drinking in the presences of others. Her duty first was to her king -- forever indebted to him, owing him her life -- and thus she was wary around the strangers that came up to him so easily. Second, her duty was to the Crows; her newfound family, her home. Among the crowd, she did not see them -- not even her other half, her Twin -- until her gaze caught onto the figures crowding on the dais. A man, however young she could not remember, with a coat the color of dried cherries, his wings folded and a tell-tale jewel inlaid where is third eye would be. Recognition flooded her, the little thing's movements hesitating. He was close to another, older man, his great horns a sight for themselves as they all chatted with the King of Shadows and Stars. Her body tensed at their nearness, but relaxed again as a fourth man joined the fray, his boisterous laugh and words trailing across the crowd. A smile played at the corners of her velvety lips until she shook it away. Enough, she told herself. All business. An epitome of calculating stillness; a phantom the color of blood and liquid gold. Her jeweled gaze roved ever skyward at the sight of the dancing winged mare circling high above them until she slowly descended, landing on a staircase opposite of their kingling. She was moving again, roaming the crowd, her body brushing near another mare who's appearance nearly mirrored her own. Mila's ears caught the small talk of conversation from the stranger to another stallion strangely shorter than she. Tossing her summer-bleached braids, she huffed through her nostrils, finally to the far reaches of the market square. She trotted up the stairs herself, sticking closer to the wall, but close to the peculiar silver-haired fae. "Your eyes haven't left him, have they?" Mila asked, a coy grin on her lips as she, too, kept her gaze directed towards the dais. Waiting patiently for their king to speak, to address them all gathered here under the stars. @Reichenbach @Aislinn @Hugan @Margot @Camdis @Raglan @Rostislav all mentioned ❤️ Directly speaks to @Aislinn c: First post with Mila so it's a bit of a hot mess, I'm sorry :P ✺Lumaris❅ ☽◯☾ Lumaris was scouting the Keep when he heard the summons a roar as strong as a lion’s that echoed among the lavish stonework and split the night like a hammer. Alert and watchful he had been hunting the area for any signs of danger, keeping company with the shadows and the silence as his wary nature gave him an excuse to avoid the celebrations. Above the lull of festive music and the hum of happy voices the call rose upon the twilight breeze to Lumaris’ extended audits. Without hesitation the warrior swung his muscular form in the direction of his King’s call; unyielding obedience to a leader was something the stallion had been schooled into from a young age. Recently it seemed this obedience had begun to slip, he’d betrayed his grandfather had he not? Broken the vow no elf or fae had broken in the eternity the two kinds had allied. But the antlered steed did not regret it, no, he had been a fool blinded by obedience and now he could see. However it seemed the cyan beast now found himself in the service of another King and he couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d traded in one self-serving leader for another. Only time would tell. Heeding Reichenbach’s call Lumaris headed towards the harmony of music and chattering voices, toward the festivities he had been avoiding. Years ago perhaps the former Prince might have been seem among dancers and the revellers dancing like the very flames that burnt in his heart but times had changed, he had changed. It was the flickering flames Lumaris saw first, the reds and oranges that danced in rhythm with the music. The hollow feeling in his chest, now a familiar haunt, reminded him of his mortality, of his lack of power. For a moment he paused and then steeled his mismatched gaze, casting the fire and ice oculars about the courtyard, taking in the equines weaving to the melody and conversing under the brilliant stars. Spotting Reichenbach Lumaris noted once again how the other stallion did not carry himself with the pride Kings he had seen held themselves, encouraging that flicker of hope within his cyan chest. Perhaps this Night King would be far different from Durann, Lumaris’ grandfather. Already there were horses gathered before the King, eagerly awaiting whatever news he had to bestow upon them. Sweeping the celebrations with his cold gaze Lumaris joined their numbers, keeping to the outskirts where he could better monitor activity and defend anyone from threat. The elk-antlered stag did not know anyone there, nor did he particularly care to, but they were under his protection as a warrior of the court nonetheless. Someone talk to Mrgrumpy here xD @Lumaris she decided to come bother you xD |
