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Post by SkyOfNewMoon on Jan 28, 2021 7:20:21 GMT -6
 Nova;Aodh | Courtesan
shitSipping on her drink, Nova listened eagerly as the mare brought up visions and additional rumours that were heavily circulating the city. Finding it difficult, Nova couldn't hide her scoff. "I'm glad I haven't had to deal with any of those, my nightmares are bad enough as it is!" She responded laughing at her own vulnerability.
Nova nodded along at her comments on the emotions the kirins stirred up merely with their scaled appearance. "Just be happy you didn't see their ancient King light everything on fire before your very eyes!" She muttered quietly a strong shiver straightening her hair for a moment. A vision Nova would certainly never forget and now the kirins were getting prepared to storm down their gates!
It was then that all of the voices begun to get louder, each one building on rumours and addressing visions that seemed to come from the very Gods themselves. Which was hard to deny when multiple Flamines were present and accounting similar situations. Then to top it all off with a cherry, even an Advisor had made themselves known. The KING'S advisor. Things had to be much worse than Nova could ever have guessed with so many important nobility plotting and gathering ideas in a dingy bar (with who knows how many others under their masks and cloaks). But she had to admit, she was living for all of the juicy gossip.
As Moira stepped forward and put a stop to the incessant chatter and wild accusations, Nova found herself fascinated by the large equine and the clear camaraderie the Flamines shared. She sipped politely as she payed attention to the next Flamen's recounting of visions and all of the discussion that came after. It took all of her willpower not to spit out her drink as a Labor slave so boldly spoke to the crowd before swiftly being shut down by Advisor Rosalba. The power that radiated from these equines reminded Nova she needed to start rubbing shoulders in higher places once again. At the same time she sent a glare in Farley's direction, making sure he got the message not to try anything so ridiculous as that Labour slave... which wasn't helped by a smaller yet similarly insignificant labour slave who chose to speak up as well, though their words were a lot more helpful than the other's.
Then the important words were spoken by a third Flamen. "Now, the question becomes, how can we verify the rules of a blood-stained monarchy as well?" Assuming the answer was obvious enough, Nova had to put it forward. "Am I not looking at those closest to the top of the Nobility tower?" She asked, looking pointedly to the Advisor, Rosalba and their company, their right hand slave appearing rather focused. "Even if you were suspected, you and your team have the best chance of finding new information, certainly verifying that information than anyone else who has made themselves known here." Sure, Nova dreamed of having clients that close to the King's side to make herself more useful, but this was the best she could offer, someone else's butt.
(Responds to Tesana. Addressing the room casually, brings up Rosalba, being the only Advisor visible)
WC: 520 | Post #2artwork by hey-stardust |
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Post by Luneby on Jan 28, 2021 7:24:20 GMT -6
 E U O N I A"Renunciation, total and sweet."
Many had spoken and voiced their concerns since Euonia last spoke. Her heart went out to the young slave who had shared in detail their recollections of the visions. She was thankful for Rosalba, vouching for him, giving his words value to those who would otherwise not listen to him. But she knew how the sight of a young, brave labor slave made Moira feel. Her wing gently brushed against the darker mare, as soft, saddened eyes watched over her. Gently calling her back to reality. Letting her know she is not alone in a way no one else would notice.
Another familiar, warm presence made their way inside her mind – where they were always welcome. She did not bat an eye as they let her know that she should be worried of the labor slave she had confronted earlier. She could not know what Jessiah had perceived in her thoughts – but she very well had her idea.
“I will.” She thought, knowing they would hear her.
She rose once again, wings slowly flaring up as she made her way towards the middle of the room. There were many things she needed to address – minds needed to be eased, and the flames of hope fanned.
“Thank you all for speaking up.” She gave a circular glance across the room. Her eyes paused on the young labor slave – she smiled.
“The information you have brought up is priceless, so are your thoughts and concerns on the situation. Allow me to clarify a few things.”
“Yes, there is a plan to overthrow Isador, which is why so many of the head figures of his government stand in this room with us tonight, myself included.” Her eyes stopped on Rosalba as she said so. She also had her suspicions on who was the masked individual who spoke so boldly of how pointless their endeavour was.
“There is at least a good number of us who are working towards dethroning him, and to do so, the rumors we have all come here to discuss need to be spread far and wide. Nothing can be achieved without the support of our people.”
She pauses, eyes drifting towards the masked figure.
“Change is not always for the best, this much we can all agree on. There is no point in making empty promises: overthrowing Isador will not guarantee anyone’s happiness – but it is our responsibility not to tolerate his actions.”
Many in the audience had voiced their faith in the god she loved - and hoped His name would bring most of the audience together.
“Ignacio teaches us to be responsible for ourselves and our fates. We are powerful, and as Ignacio’s people, we will not let ourselves be terrorized into silence. We must seize the power he stole and take responsibility for the numerous vices our herd harbors, because Isador won’t.”
The Flamen wore an unassuming, plain purple necklace around her neck. She barely noticed that it was inexplicably getting hotter as she spoke.
“He will not take responsibility for the deaths of refugees outside our walls. He will not take responsibility for labor slaves, dying out everyday while carrying the whole herd on their backs. He only released the Seroran slaves because he was played into it.”
She fell silent, eyes scanning her audience. Her gaze met with Misti’s – the young Flamen of Palasa, whom she nodded politely to, thankful for her honesty. She then watched a newcomer walk inside – who somehow appeared familiar to her.
“There is not much we will be able to prove tonight based on rumors and visions alone. Those of us who can investigate will do so – and all the proof needed to incriminate Isador permanently will be released publicly in due time. In the meantime, we must be brave, and spread the seed of doubt to our peers, inspire hope for a better future. The Gods are with us, that much is clear. If even Alya wishes to protect our people, and unknown forces bring visions for us to witness and even build temples before our very eyes, we mustn’t ignore the signs that are displayed before us. Aodh must change, and the false King must be overthrown.”
She finally noticed, as she stopped talking, how hot the necklace Aleksei gave her felt against her chest. Her eyes dropped towards it- what was going on?
***
WC: 727| Post # 4
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Post by ThatDenver on Jan 28, 2021 9:14:19 GMT -6
PLAIN NECKLACE
The necklace, at this point, is glowing with heat; its plain purple more of a red, the metal around it deepening in color.
It vibrates.
Small runes, unlike any Aodhian writing style, new or old, appear on its surface, circling the gemstone.
It falls loose of its setting, still glowing hot. When it hits the ground, it makes a soft ‘clink’, bouncing high once – how unlike a gemstone – and then it shatters, blasting into tiny, tiny shards as if blown by the very heat it generated.
The shards never hit equine skin.
They hover in the air, spinning and clicking and spreading out. The few bodies in the middle of the room get out of the way, leaving an empty space for the shards of crystal, fine as dust.
Images appear. Soundless, save for the whirr and click and hiss of the crystals.
Clear as day, but colorless, as if memories washed by time.
Memories of another.
You see dancing forms in front of you – so many of them. Some of the noble figures among you are scattered within the vision. From amongst them, a hippocampus approaches you.
You glance to the side. The royal family.
You look back at the hippocampus.
You nod.
And you begin to walk away.
You drop a two crystalized pebbles into a drink.
A Furia snarls at you.
You pick up a small, Onean style axe from the mantle, and throw it at the creature.
The skull cracks. The creature vanishes, just a skull.
You add one more pebble, pick up the skull and leave the room.
Click.
Crackle.
Click.
The pieces whir even faster.
Perspective changes.
The memory of someone else.
You see a painting of Ingrid.
Familiar – thousands were made to commemorate his birth.
A hippocampus stands in front of it, observing the picture.
She turns around.
It can’t be.
The pieces fall.
And the pictures are no more.
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Post by kajeayn on Jan 28, 2021 18:10:21 GMT -6
R O S A L B A
post 4 | wc 1149
The talks continued, and Rosalba continued to listen, her head tilted slightly to one side as if considering something, long ears slowly swiveling around the room, pointing at those who were speaking- and occasionally at those who weren’t.
When the kirin spoke to her she looked back at him, expressionless, and barely kept from snorting in response. Commoners were always quick to denounce the monarchy, the system, without understanding the work that went into creating a new one from scratch.
“Shall we put you in charge?” She rumbled. “Would a council of your peers understand how to run a country? How long would it take you to learn it? Will the other countries, the kirins breathing down our necks, wait for us to figure it out? Will they let us put out our fires and learn how to be a perfect little democracy before they come and kill us all?” She turned her head, gaze sweeping across the rest of the room.
“We must change in order to survive, but change must be done carefully- smartly. I come before you all tonight to assure you that change is coming, but it cannot be done without your help. You already have a voice- you all do. Use it. Repeat what you have heard. Tell everyone you know. Tell them to tell others. Rise. A new dawn is coming, and we will be ready to face it, and all that entails.”
She drew herself to her full height, sweeping her cloak closer to herself as her gaze sharpened.
“This monarchy is stained in blood, and it was forged in blood. Have we forgotten our origins? We rose from the ashes of the God’s War. Blood is in our nature. But it is time for that to change. And it will. Of that, you can all be certain.”
She did not say that which hung heavy on her mind- that Isador would pay dearly in blood. If she had to bleed him dry herself, she would, and she would enjoy every moment of it. Let him know what fear really was.
“Sola is our biggest obstacle, but there is hope. Another wyvern has come to our aide. Our god would not send us to battle unarmed.” She flashed a sudden smile, fangs glinting in the light. “I am no Flamen, but even I can see the signs. The battlelines have been drawn. The fire is growing. We have been armed. We are ready.”
She turned her head as Flamen Euonia stepped forward, her soft white wings flared out for silence. Rosalba dipped her head, stepping back to silently give the pegasus the floor.
As angry as Rosalba felt, she was tired. Tonight had drained her, she could feel the exhaustion of it all sucking at her mind. She was already looking forward to pulling all her curtains and perhaps not seeing a single visitor for a full day as a rare luxury she could not really afford, but might be needed. Euonia’s appearance felt unexpectedly kind- as if she knew Rosalba was waning, that her fiery speech were the last embers of her energy.
She burned with hate and with rage, but it was not a fire that could burn long. She was quietly grateful to the Flamen when she rose to speak and commanded the room with her gentle voice and burning gaze.
And Euonia had plenty to offer, Rosalba listening in respectful silence as she occasionally gazed around the room, silently checking to make sure the Flamen was given the respect she deserved. Her chest glowed with pride as Euonia spoke- the pieces were all falling into place. The false king would be overthrown.
Rosalie’s murderer would, finally, be put to an end.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the unassuming necklace at Euonia’s throat shuddered.
And then it shattered.
She backed quickly away, ears pinned flat as yet another vision was forced upon her- she wanted to scream, she’d had enough, she did not need to relive these moments over and over again.
What more do you want from me? She thought wildly, unsure who her thoughts were directed at- Ignacio? The entire pantheon? Whoever was sending these bloody messages? I am doing all I can. I have seen enough.
But the memories of Isador were what played before her eyes, and for the first time tonight, Rosalba could not keep her expressionless mask. It cracked and shattered the way the crystal had, her face open and stunned for only a moment before it changed.
Hate twisted her features, rage blazing like stars in her eyes as her mouth warped into a snarl. Her head lowered, as if she might charge the Isador in the memory, somehow stop him from the events that had long come to pass.
She thought she’d hated Isador before, but seeing through his eyes- seeing him casually drop crystals into what would doubtlessly be Solaris’s final drink made her blood boil. For the first time in ages, she wished she had a blessing, if only to let it loose, let fire pour like lava from her throat, send light beams into the rafters and bring this whole building down onto the image of Isador’s head.
For only a moment, she wished she were not an Emin, not an Adviser, not the Head of her House. That she could just be what she denied she was- a grieving mother, an orphaned daughter.
She wanted to howl.
Her sides heaved, and she forcibly reined her temper back under control. Rage would not help her here. Not tonight. It burned the last of her energy, and with almost physical effort she forced her features back into a blank mask. Her eyes still smoldered hatefully, staring at the places Isador had been as the images changed.
Her blood chilled.
She had seen her that night. She had watched her die. She remembered now. The memories flashed behind her eyes and for a moment her eyes were empty of anything but silent horror.
She squeezed them shut, shaking her head slightly, and when she reopened her eyes the crystal pieces had fallen to the floor, useless once more.
She stifled the immature wish to crush them under her hooves.
“Do you all see?” She rasped, then cleared her throat. “You all saw the same as I did just now. Our gods send us another message. They show Isador’s blackened heart. And they show us an impossible miracle- Emin Marcellus Soleil lives.”
The smile she gave the room was vicious, the bared teeth of a wolf over a kill.
“Let Isador know fear. Let him know the Soleil dynasty lives on. That even the gods stand against him.” She stamped a cloven hoof hard down on the floor, echoing sharply. “Not even death will obey his tyranny. Let him know that we know his crimes. And that he will answer.” |
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reyarpg
Star
- What's sleep?
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Post by reyarpg on Jan 28, 2021 19:02:43 GMT -6
After her terse words with Alcmene, Edenne did little more than keep an eye on the fellow servile to wait to see if she would dare speak out more words to embarrass Rosa. None such came. The conversation was free to move on, and there were many words to be spoken. While she drunk them in, it would only be much later that she properly thought on them and assessed them. Probably to talk with Rosa about them. She couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous, however; the words being spoken were.... oh, what was the word? Borderline rebellion. But this was both nobles and commoners talking of it, so surely a more refined word was needed?
Edenne was already weary at the thought.
Her gaze was fixated upon Rosalba as she spoke, blue eyes glittering under her mask. Whenever Rosa spoke, even if it was about serious things, she was a natural born leader. Every word she spoke, in every tone she used, commanded respect and attention. It was times like this, when Rosalba spoke with such fervor and eloquence, that Edenne continued to feel her fondness for her charge grow.
Then, the necklace fell, shuddered, and shattered. Edenne eagerly rushes to Rosalba's side, pushing herself into the limelight to do so - but the shards never came. Instead, a vision replaces hers. She's at a ballroom she doesn't recognize; sees a horse she doesn't recognize. It's all a blur, and it's not something she processes well. She would definitely need to ask Rosa about this later.
Rosa.
Edenne moved in time with her mistress, pressing herself close and looking up at her in concern. Edenne didn't know how or where to position herself to protect her. How could she protect her from something she couldn't see? For the first time, she saw Rosa's serious and cold mask drop to make way for shock and surprise. Then, anger, and hate. And, her final emotion. Something that came and went so quick that Edenne was sure that those who were not as close to Rosalba as she was would surely miss. Sorrow and pain.
Edenne's concern for Rosalba only grew.
While her mistress might have been far more expressive behind closed doors, even Edenne struggled to see this much raw emotion from her. She felt Rosa's side heave against her flank, and Edenne became suddenly aware of how close she was to her mistress. She didn't do anything to remedy this; she was her guard after all. She just had to make sure that her actions were only taken as guarding, and nothing more.
Edenne watched Rosa's features change to silent horror , then shake it off. Edenne was ready to sweep the floor of crystals in a moment to protect her patron's hooves, if necessary, but she meekly dipped her head down as Rosalba spoke once more. Rosa's words were more fervent than ever, now, and Edenne felt them stir up a desire in her. A desire to serve and protect, in ways she hadn't before.
She knew she had some prayer to do.
[ wc: 516 words // tagged: rosalba, mentions alcmene ]
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Post by mai | nychnymph on Jan 28, 2021 22:53:04 GMT -6
✷ ✷ ✷
All was forgotten from his mind as Ignacio bared a vision to them all. Crystals erupted into shards, dropping from the neck of the Flamen Euonina - casting the pegasus’ radiant coat in scatterings of bejeweled light. He had already taken a half step toward the middle of the room, his Force Fields just barely flickering as he was ready to shield the room. But his chivalry was forgotten as soon as the vision burst into the light, and the warmth as the shards spun in the air. Ignacio meant not to harm, and he hoped his God would forgive his quick thinking, for raising his blessings against his God would gut him.
In the visions given by Ignacio, the most damning evidence of all. Adonis took slow steps as he watched the room grow in tension and anxiety. The drops of pebbles in drinks, the attack on a Furia, the lingering fins of royalty Aodh would never be soon to forget. Adonis could feel the heat on his coat, eyes intent and narrowed on the glimpses of Marcellus.
Where the rage of the room grew hot, his grew cold. An icy, and defiled sort of rage. Here they were given undeniable proof - in a blessed vision - that Isador had poisoned Solaris in his bid to take over the Aodh throne. His hair stood on end, and a slow and merciless smirk trailed across his lips. He looked a fool to his ancestors, supporting Isador in his fledgling reign and thinking the Soleil dynasty that had been at odds with his House’s ideals for so long had been conquered with honor.
As Advisor Rosalba, with her tremendous force of a voice spoke, his tail swished maliciously. Open rebellion would have them culled, unless they were to spread this information. If this vision, shown to the greatest Eminents among Aodh society and to the labor slaves at the bottom, were to be more prophecy than rumor, they could even demolish Isador’s reign from the inside. As the people doubted like the gods did, thrones would be felled.
The glint of teeth had his gaze turning to Rosalba, and he did not hesitate to match her wolfish grin. A battle that left them all hollow, but a battle to be won nonetheless.
He spoke to the room next, “Let us speak to our brethren, our fellow Aodhians. These rumors are rumors no longer, for our gods have given us this vision. We are prophesied to bring an end to Isador for these crimes. And this battle is for all - eminents to commoners to slaves. His affront on Aodh is an offense to us all.”
He kept his speech short. He was no diplomat. Adonis would leave the planning of this justice reaping to the Advisors present. As the tavern descended into madness and talk once more, the crystals forgotten and crumbling to the ground, he moved on to the side of Rosalba. A small incline of his head to her, before casting his eyes to the Flamens, Advisors and Envoys - to Oberyn, Lux, Eliina, Iulia - a nod in their direction as well. Rosalba’s slaves were not forgotten, but he merely looked to them with a slight appraisal by way of greeting. When he spoke, he raised his voice to them all, but not too loud as to be heard over the room.
“House Julius is with you,” He said simply, a grim smirk on his lips, “I pray it does not resort to violence but my armories will be open nonetheless. If Isador’s heart is as black as this vision has shown, I have no doubt he will try underhanded maneuvers to dismiss this by seeking out those at the root.”
Grunting faintly, he hoped Rosalba didn’t take that as any more than a sort of bitter comradery. The Flamens may be fine, with the people to protect them, but if any sort of overthrow of Isador’s throne was to be had, many more than just the Flamens would need to be protected. Without firm vocalization of it, and mostly just by way of a glance over the owned slaves in the room, he would also armor them at the behest of their masters if violence was indeed to come.
✷ ✷ ✷
Addressing the room briefly | Addressing Rosalba, with mention of Kaspar, Euonia, Pyre, Misti, Moira, Oberyn, Lux, Eliina, Iulia & all others with offer of protection.
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Post by Zugunruhes on Jan 29, 2021 10:27:22 GMT -6
Harlan expected an evening of rumors whispered so softly they barely were audible behind the veils and masks the horses wore. Like rising smoke, or leaves scattered by the wind; the colors flashing brightly before being torn away by a sudden gale. And perhaps he was lost enough in his thoughts of the free Serorans that he did not consider his surroundings with the usual keen eyes of a thief. When the labor slave spoke up, her words a rush of anger, he saw the room around him for what it was.
The wind outside rattled the tavern and it was as though they were on a ship, rolling and pitching at the whim of the frenetic waters outside. Harlan tensed then, reprimanding his own mood- what if one of the others rose up to strike against his master? Regretfully, with the difficulty of his choice concealed under his hood, Harlan put aside his brooding thoughts and stood to attention. He listened then, hopeful to ease out bits of useful information in the words or subtle body language of the others gathered and to ensure that if violence were to occur he would act as a shield.
Then words of anger bloomed nearby him and he startled at the realization that one of Rosalba's other slaves addressed the room. Fear curled in his gut and his first instinct was to shush them and push them back- he recognized the ire they spoke with in himself. He loathed Aodh- he loathed all he had lost. But Rosa- the other could not speak these words in front of her. She had saved Harlan and his beloved from the darkest parts of Valore and from that forged a loyalty intricate and confusing in one. He tried to flash them a warning glance, but it was lost in the sea of faces under cloaks and masks. His eyes, wide with the current of fear still running through him, then darted to Rosa, wondering what expression was hidden under her veil. If any, at all.
And she revealed herself, advancing on the labor slave that had spoken earlier with a fire turned cold with the dignity she mastered over her emotions. Within it the traces of sadness gleamed, leaving Harlan to wonder. Only for a moment- Edenne whispered her reprimand to Alcmene, receiving a grateful look from Harlan. Worry had settled within him. For Rosa's safety and for the implications of what Alcmene had voiced. He could not focus on the conversation at hoof. Lessons of Aodh's history danced by him, meaningless, until the gilded building was mentioned.
He had seen it too. Visited it at Rosalba's side and feared the visions it struck in his brain for he rejected the meddling of any god. If any god or a few among of the pantheon were planning to shake the foundations of an already precarious city then he had to know. For Sirocco's safety- as long as they kept with Rosalba they would both be safe, right?
His suspicions were seemingly confirmed with the necklace shattered and bore the memories of someone else. He wanted to look away- to avoid acknowledging the gods, but he was transfixed alongside the room of gathered horses. What it meant he did not know, but the words of many around him were clear. Isador's reign was threatened, and with that so much more could topple. He looked again to Rosa, knowing where his loyalties lived. OOC: Harlan does not address anyone in the room, but thinks about Rosalba, Edenne, and Alcmene.
Image by Kruuja
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Post by misttheelf on Jan 29, 2021 10:48:05 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 7 | WC 597 Caron hummed, listening as another flamen unmasked, and while Caron themselves did not recognize her, they did know how close the flames typically were to each other. Hummed when Rosalba vouched for another's recount of visions - So it was simply Delta's bluntness that had earned her ire. Well, regardless the brash hippocampus hadn't said anything to anger the advisor further.
Rather, they had, with the comment of putting them in charge - And Caron couldn't help but snort. "Oh heavens no, not I. I'd be more inclined to simply leave it to those of you who already converse for the betterment of this herd."
They watched, as Runt thanked Rosalba, and fell silent.
Rosalba continued to speak, speaking of change. It was necessary. She spoke of how the monarchy, the herd, was forged in blood - a history Caron had never been fully taught, having been a slave. She spoke of how Sola was the largest threat, and how Ignacio would not send them in unarmed.
Caron agreed to that.
They gave a silent hum, noting the angry tiredness the advisor held within her. They had half a mind to offer her a place where none would find her for a time, noting how she kept her emotions hidden as best she could.
When a newcomer arrived and smiled brightly at some of them, Caron felt a twinge of pity for the mare as she smiled at several in the room, unaware of the reasons why they were gathered so.
When another spoke, asking those higher up to give them more information - Caron couldn't help but give a small nod. For many there, they simply did not have access to rumors or information that others could have.
Flamen Euonia spoke once again. Thanking those who had spoken, and going to clarify a few things. Caron tilted their head, curious as to what she had to say.
What they were not expecting, was the confirmation that indeed, there was a plan, a plot to overthrow Isador. And the ones gathered there were a part of the ones behind it. Now that … that had their attention. And she asked for them to spread the rumors far and wide… that was something they could do, indeed.
And they agreed with her, in that change was not always good, but again… it was necessary at times. They gave a nod as the flamen fell silent, before the gem of the necklace that she had been wearing fell, and shattered.
They were startled, but when nothing hit, Caron watched the memories.
They held their tongue as they observed the room as the memories came to an end
Caron's eyes cast about the room, noting distinctly Rosalba's reactions. She was upset, thoroughly so… and Caron understood why, quite thoroughly. The advisor had lost much that night, and seeing it again… it must have hurt them. They took a breath - Rosalba was a mortal like them, not a god, after all.
They listened as she spoke, telling them to let Isador know fear. Pointing out the miracle of Marcellus' life. Stating that Isador will answer for what he's done.
They would have approached Rosalba after, if those closer had not already moved in to try and comfort the advisor.
When the armored one spoke, Caron took note of the offer - it was a small comfort that House Julius was offering to armor most, and offering protection if a battle came to be because of this.
"...I will assist in spreading these rumors." They spoke. "The populace will know of the False King's treachery and crimes."
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Jan 29, 2021 11:42:05 GMT -6
 Runt Aodh - Labor Slave The sound of rain reached his ears briefly, signifying that someone else had entered the pub [Leonora]. The child did not turn to look at them, far too focused on the heart of the conversation. He was a slave, but he still felt it important that he knew what was going on, what to expect and, perhaps more importantly, what he could do to help. A Labor Slave didn't have much they could do to help, but if there was any sort of possibility that he could be used, he felt the desire to make it happen if he could. Another mare [Nova], seemed to have high confidence and faith in those present, those who could actually do something. Runt decided he too felt he could trust those with the wherewithal to overthrow the King of Aodh.Euonia once again made her golden presence known. Runt continued to stand off to the side, not far off from Rosalba, but also not too far from Delta either. Pale green eyes turned to him, a smile on her face as she offered him what he felt to be a compliment. He bowed his head down, silently showing his thanks. Then the pegasus did as she said she would do, and clarified everything to them. She confirmed that there was a plot to overthrow Isador, and for some reason he couldn't understand, Runt felt a little giddy. She mentioned how the rumors that had brought them all there needed to be spread. That made his heart thump in his chest; that would be so easy. He couldn't recall any labor slaves that held any love for the King that seemed to actively be trying to kill them all. The Labor force would easily be able to get the rumors spread. After all, they had little left to lose except for their very lives, and those same lives they risked every day anyway.Surely it would be easy.Conversation turned over to Ignacio. Faded memories fought to pierce through the veil of his mind, but he couldn't quite recall much more than knowing that his parents had worshipped all of the gods except Digend. If Ignacio needed him to take responsibility for himself and his fate, then he would do so. He wouldn't sit there and die just a labor slave, which was what was expected of him, and what he expected after Isador forced them to work all hours. But if he were to die as a slave, he would ensure as many ears heard what he had to tell them before that would happen. Yes, this was going to be easy, he thought excitedly.The mention of Labor slaves snapped him back to reality, where he listened to Euonia spoke truthfully about the group he himself was apart of. Labor slaves certainly did carry Aodh on their backs, and he was almost used to seeing the dead and dying by now. And it was seeing such that made him fight that much harder to survive. "I will help." He finally stated, far more firmly than he realized he was capable of. It mattered not what God came to their aid, if any came at all. Aodh had the power to overthrow one little King and his dumb lizard.Green gaze dropped to her neck where a purple necklace rested, and Runts gaze followed. He furrowed his brows at the concerned look upon her face. He started to speak, his lips parted, about to ask if she was alright, when the necklace instead caught his eyes. It was no longer purple, but seemed to glow with the heat of freshly molten glass. In the span of just a second, even that, it fell, bounced, and shattered in front of his face. The youth jerked back, shutting all three of his eyes as he anticipated tiny shards impacting against his skin, but it never happened. Cautiously reopening his eyes, he looked to the faint, dusty scene before him. His ears caught the tiny clinking of the broken necklace hovering in the air, the sound enough to even draw Lunabelle from underneath his mane. She fluttered out to hover next to his head, tiny head shifting back and forth as she looked at the glittering dust before them.And from the dust came images. There was no nausea, so this was different than the visions of the strange bone building. A place unfolds before him, one he doesn't recognize. Figures dance around the background, until one appears before him. When the image shifts, he begins to realize he is seeing a vision from someone else eyes. Was this Isador then? Were they witnessing the world through his eyes? A drink is poisoned, a skull-faced creature is attacked. The vision shifts, and there stands a painting of a kirin. Runt is unfamiliar with who all of the figures, but he gets the feeling this is HUGE. Turning, the colt looks up to Rosalba instinctively. If anyone knew what was going on, the Advisor would. But he wasn't expecting what he saw.He had missed the incredible changes of her expression, but he could see the fire raging behind her eyes, how her sides heaved. One of her slaves was very close to her as well [Edenne], protectively. He turned his head so it wasn't obvious he was watching her. Eventually, her features returned to the same stoic mask he was familiar with, but he could still see the storm brewing within. Eyes shut, head shook, Runt frowned. His ears twitched when the dust fell and settled upon the floor. Ears perked up when the Kirin spoke. She spoke of Runts suspicions, but she also clarified who the unknown hippocampus from the vision was.The half-masked equine from earlier stepped close [Adonis], grinning wolfishly. He told them all to spread the word, which was much more important now. This was as painful as it was...exciting. The unicorn offered his protection to Rosalba and her family, mentioning armories.For the first time since he had been claimed by Aodh, branded and bitted, his blessing rippled gently in his chest. There had been a few times it had triggered prior to being captured, and most of the time it was with objects that had been broken during Cultist gatherings. His eyes looked to the shattered remains of the necklace on the floor, then back up to Rosalba as Caron pledged to help with spreading the word."We're no longer spreading rumors," The boy chimed in, "We would be spreading the truth." Lunabelle jingled next to his ears, tiny wings flapping merrily. "Advisor Rosalba," He specifically looked to Rosalba, but Caron, Edenne, Harlan and Adonis were also invited into the conversation due to their proximity. "I will work to get the Labor Slaves to spread the truth as far as we can. I am sure they all will be more than happy to end Isadors reign." The colt dipped his head. "I was blessed by Cascade when I was born. I don't...have a lot of experience with it, but I can see visions, memories, of the past. Like that necklace showed us. If I can help, I will." He kept his gaze down, not wanting to show his excitement too much. Then he turned to Delta. "We should go before we are missed and get in trouble." |
POST COUNT: 4 ♦ WORD COUNT: 1227
MENTIONS: Leonora, Nova, Rosalba, Delta, Euonia, Edenne, Adonis, Caron, Harlan
INTERACTIONS: Rosalba, Caron, Adonis, Harlan, Delta, basically anyone in the vicinity of Rosalba can hear him |
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Post by moonlightwalk on Jan 29, 2021 13:37:33 GMT -6
Leonora | Peacmaker
Leonora wasn’t really sure what it was that she walked in on, but she soon concluded she had perhaps walked into the wrong bar or at least on the wrong night.
Whatever the case it seemed the group of horses residing there were engaged in quite the heavy conversation, a horse addressing the room talking about overthrowing the king. Leonora tensed up slightly, wondering if she had walked into the middle of a rebellion and whether it be wiser to walk back out than to risk the fragile alliance her people had just forged to lay an ear to such potentially dangerous gossip. Then again was it also not her task to learn as much as possible about these thing so Serora might be prepared and not taken unguarded if Aodhian politics took an unexpected spin. What did she know about the severity of what was being said after all?
Before she could decide on a course of action more happened however, as the necklace of the one speaking burst into pieces and visions appeared to them all. She could not make sense of them, aside from the fact that they were apparently important and of meaning to those in the room, because it caused quite a few emotional reactions. Of kings again, of crimes. She thanked the barhorse for her drink, downed it one go, calmly waking passed another horse who seemed about to leave. “May the rain fall on you kindly tonight,” she greeted them before slipping out the door, wondering how to get this information to Sedo without raising suspicion or alarm.
Post 2 | 265 words
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Post by Dream-Lark on Jan 29, 2021 15:05:58 GMT -6
 Tesana;Aodh|Commoner
The hippocampus mare nodded along as her companion, Nova, spoke. One ear was focused on her, and the other canted toward the room at large to try and pick up everything she could. The situation was so tense, so much was being spoken and revealed.
She hadn’t expected everyone to be so certain Isador was going to be overthrown, that something was actually actively in the works. That he had been...such a bad king. Sure, he had his issues such as every monarch did, but he had been a far sigh better than the child Amadeus.
But then it happened again.
For the second time, a vision was revealed to her -- riveting her to her spot.
This time it was a necklace, falling from about a Flamen’s neck and shattering into breathtaking tiny shards, little crystals fine as a sparkling dust.
But what they revealed, it made her feel sick to her stomach.
Tesana, of course, had not been at the Ball, but talk of it had been everywhere, for months upon months the stories were repeated. And that last part of the image -- she knew those figures, had of course seen paintings of them.
How could it be?
Gaze flickered quickly at those across from the image, seeing a quick splay of emotions, and her heart ached for the nobles. Their sense of betrayal must cut deep, for they had lost family there. She knew no specifics, but that much was obvious. Ear swiveled as others offered to spread the rumors -- no, the Truth, as Runt so succinctly put it -- around after they left.
The mare took a deep breath, taking strength from the Advisors, Emininents, and Flamens present, though she felt a chill at the expressions on their faces -- at the pure rage that was glimpsed for a brief moment. Strength from the fact that Ignacio must see them and be with them during this course of action. So despite the fact that she did not remove cloak or mask, the hippocampus took a step forward, projecting her voice.
“News of this will be spread from Ignacio’s Touch spa as well. Should anyone here need help collecting themselves or a private place to destress or chat, simply ask for the manager and mention the Goldhead. It’s...about all I can do,” Tesana added, feeling a little awkward, though it didn’t show on her features. It would be enough, considering she didn’t really hold any power. Then again, it would also hopefully keep her from Isador’s immediate reach. She didn’t want to lose her place, but neither could she simply stay silent and do nothing.
WC:437 | Post #3 | Ref
Art by Kajeayn |
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savorda
Dwarf Star
avatar by posy-punch
Posts: 61
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Post by savorda on Jan 29, 2021 17:05:00 GMT -6
| P Y R E F L A M E N O F I G N I S F I N D R E S U R R E C T I O N I N T H E F L A M E |
Pyre settled down at a table in the far corner of the room well away from all the commotion, but still close enough to hear clearly. She was more than happy to simply sit and listen for the rest of the night. This is where she felt most comfortable, after all. Quite unfortunate for a flamen, in her opinion. She listened as each speaker made their experiences and opinions heard (whether they were prompted to or not, in the case of a certain labor slave). Pyre took extra care to squirrel away all the information she could. She really only had proper access to a small, very privileged corner of the city, so she savored the opportunity to gather happenings from elsewhere.
The sight of Euonia and Moira brought her (and the room) a great deal of peace. Pyre despised being so ill informed. It made her incredibly hesitant to speak up, so she was beyond grateful for their presence. Euonia’s account of the visions she received, and subsequent interrogation, made Pyre’s blood run cold. She couldn’t bear the thought of serving so close to Isador, for as long as she worked in a day. She sincerely hoped everything would resolve soon enough, if only for Euonia’s sake.
The visions the young labor slave spoke of, which Rosalba and Oberyn confirmed, only gave her more questions than answers. Oh how she grew weary of riddles. These in particular gave her farm more hope than she knew what to do with.They could not be interpreted any other way. Isador is fated to fall. Euonia’s admittance of a plot to overthrow the King only cemented her belief. Pyre pulled her cloak tightly around herself, in a vain attempt to calm her racing mind. The shattering necklace did nothing to help her nerves.
Pyre watched in disgust as the visions, no, the memories played out before them all. If anyone harbored any doubts of what they discussed tonight, they were surely convinced now. And to think Marcellus.. Pyre shook her head, she didn’t understand how, she might never, but Marcellus *lived.* That’s all that mattered.
A sudden shift of emotion in Rosalba’s expression before it returned to its usual composure caught Pyre’s attention. Her heart ached for the adviser. She remembered the days and weeks following the New Years Ball better than she liked. Ignis never felt so solemn. She hoped it would be awhile still before it would be again. If all goes well, they will have much happier days to finally look forward to.
424 words | post 2
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Post by houndflash on Jan 29, 2021 17:10:24 GMT -6
Tate|Aodh|Smuggler
Tate stood in awe of the events transpiring. This short night of drinks and celebration, quickly turned into ideation of insurrection, most of the heavy lifting coming from nobles no less. On any normal day, the smuggler would probably cheer at the chaos, and either use the cover to pass along information or assist in an escape attempt. Today, Tate was at the center of it all, more confused than if he started reading a book backwards.
The situation only gained in confusion as a necklace around the of the noble’s neck exploded into shards. Acting impulsively Tate threw himself and his cloak in front of Shay, trying to make sure his temporary charge would be unharmed, only to watch as the shards floated in midair. The visions that came forth were sickening, though now not unexpected. Not with everything that had been spoken about. Not with all they had now known. As they ended, multiple equines pledged their support and efforts on furthering the truth of what had happened.
“A library is a place to learn the truth.” Tate spoke firmly but softly. “If a place of safety is needed to hide or to plan, my library will be a haven to all in need, just ask for Tate.”
Post # 3 Word count 210 |
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 29, 2021 18:03:48 GMT -6
Shay|Gentry|Aodh
Shay glanced up at Rosalba to meet her gaze as she spoke about his brother being not fit for the crown and nodded his head. He agreed, and in all honesty, he was tired of watching members of his family get murdered, he hated the thought of losing any more of them. He looked from speaker to speaker as more visions were shared, he remembered that mysterious building that he saw on his return back to New Valore. He'd first thought it was just under protection because it was some important building still under construction, and the chevaliers were to protect from potential trouble. But then he'd learned of its sudden overnight appearance, and now apparently that it had given visions to several attendees here. The way it was described reminded him of prophecies given to heroes in the fantasy books he'd read, all vague and symbolic with the meanings becoming clear only later. But even then, the white wyvern was a pretty on the nose, wasn't it? That had to be Isador.
His ears perked up at the thought of the plot to overthrow the king. This was all so surreal, he'd come here to have some food with a co-worker before going home, and here he was, plotting to overthrow the equine who had supposedly overthrown his own family. How fitting that a king who had conspired and killed his way to the top would be dethroned by similar conspiracy. If- no when, this came to pass, he'd cheer the loudest. In the mean time, he'd keep mention of this meeting a secret, while spreading the truths to who would listen, he knew as much now in his heart. The words of the people here today, especially the flamines, emboldened him, he was not alone in wishing for change.
When the gem fell and shattered, he instinctively ducked and flung out a wing to cover his face. The sudden jerk in movement pulled the hood of his cloak off his head. When he didn't feel the shards, he pulled his wing back to see that Tate had leaped in front of him, but when he looked over Tate's back, his eyes widened at the sight of the shards floating in the air. His curiosity quickly turned to horror as he recognized his family in the first scene, he knew what this was, but who was he-
Something clicked in his head, he wasn't sure what it was, but he knew, this had to be Isador's memories. His face darkened as anger from the truth of things filled him. Hearing about it was one thing, but seeing it? Something else entirely. He was watching the moments that stole his parts of his family from him. He stomped his hooves on the floor, a small release of the amount of emotions he was feeling watching the furia get hurt, and the drops in the glass. How DARE he do this. How dare he take away one of the most progressive kings Aodh had seen. When the visions changed again, he was confused. This was far more recent, he remembered the hubub of artists that had come to the palace to paint pictures of Ingrid, this must be one of the many that ended up produced. Who was that standing in front? It almost looked like-
he audibly gasped and took a step back when she turned around. His front hoof, lifted up in shock, trembled. Alive? How? She was dead! He'd been to that funeral, watched the bodies burn on the pyre. He remembered her dying. But she was alive, and right there, and that memory certainly wasn't from before the ball. The tinkling of the crystals hitting the ground almost felt distant as his head swam with what he'd seen.
Marcellus, alive. She was somewhere out there, she'd come back. But where? Could he find her? His heart ached and he had to shake his head to keep more tears from falling, setting his hoof down. He lifted his head, pink eyes determined, resolute. Things were going to change. His family would have their day again, even if they weren't on the throne. He wasn't quite sure what he'd do yet, but he'd do whatever he had to, to make sure that Isador would pay for what he'd done to his family. He listened to Rosalba again, this time with a fire in his eyes, he nodded his head and felt his chest puff out, just a little.
When there was another lull in conversation, he stepped out from behind Tate, and addressed the room.
"I have no place to offer of my own, but I work at Tate's library to keep myself busy. If he's not in, ask for Shay."
He huffed.
"I will make sure these truths spread as far as I can. The herd must know the truth, in order to make things better. In order to make things right for people who have been hurt by Isador's reign."
And eventually, so the slaves can be free of their chains. He finished that thought internally. The time to speak of that would come later, not tonight.
Post 3|WC: 860
ooc: Shay's hood fell down his face is visible
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Post by kerarose on Jan 29, 2021 19:16:31 GMT -6
E L I I N A
POST 4 | WC: 578
Eliina watched as the necklace exploded, and the images flashed before her eyes. She saw the New Year's Ball, as... someone nodded to a hippocampus, and walked away. She knew what happened next- she'd been there. She could hear the screams and see the bodies of nobles on the floor, the push and pull of the crowd trying to flee.
She saw the same person drop crystalized pellets into a drink, and then a Furia- the couldn't be right, wasn't that Solars' Furia?- growl. An Onean style axe slammed into the Furia's head, cracking the skull and sending the Furia on to whatever came after they passed on. The fact that she wore her Furia mask came to mind- she didn't know that she would potentially become a symbol of Isador's horrible deeds.
An image of Ingrid hung on the wall- and Emin Marcellus Soleil stood in front of it, admiring the photo. Her jaw dropped, and she shook herself out of the visions, bringing herself back to the present. She stood a moment in silence, collecting her thoughts, before paying attention to the flow of conversation once more.
Rosalba's fury could be felt, as she nearly vibrated in anger. Eliina wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but she knew it would be useless. Rosalba was her own beast- she would calm when she was good and ready. The unicorn knew that seeing the images of the ball- that proved Isador had ordered the attack that killed her daughter- would bring back memories that weren't meant to be re-lived.
She listened to the statements of support, and pondered whether or not it was advantageous to reveal her identity and House. House Xoias had lost much in the Inquisition- could they afford to side with this rebellion if it failed, if Isador kept the throne? Would House Xoias fall again?
Even worse- could it rise again if the False King kept the throne?
The unicorn grit her teeth together- they had survived this long. They had risen from only three members to be a secure House again. Their damn motto was from ashes to glory.
The time for hiding was over.
With a flourish, she unclipped the cloak from her horns, letting her tattoo shine, and pulled the Furia mask from her face. She rose to her full height, a slight smirk gracing her features. "I am Eliina of House Xoias," she said, tossing her mane. "We have fallen from grace and risen again. I was the first to be awarded the position of Envoy in generations. I am the branch of the Aodhian government in War Forged, our closest allies."
She stepped forward, taking her place beside Rosalba as a high-ranking member of the government. "I will spread these rumors among House Xoias. When the time comes, I can pledge their assistance." She paused, giving a smile. "If you would think it advisable, Rosalba," she said, "perhaps some rumors could spread in War Forged. Perhaps having Aodh's closest ally questioning Isador's rule would allow for us to further our goals of removing this betrayer from the throne."
She stomped her hoof- one of the patterns of behavior that she had picked up from War Forged. "May the House Xoias motto guide us to a better path- from ashes to glory. We may be at our lowest, but that means that it can only get better from here."
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Post by kajeayn on Jan 29, 2021 21:18:08 GMT -6
R O S A L B A
post 5 | wc 1094
The sudden pressure against her side was a welcome distraction, even if she didn’t acknowledge it right away.
Edenne’s presence was a balm, able to feel her warmth through her cloak, and Rosalba silently appreciated her. Edenne would know- how could she not?
Discretely, hidden to the room at large, she willed her teke to be invisible and gently curled in Edenne’s soft mane, a brief, wordless gesture of gratitude. Normally her teke glowed a soft rose pink, but she was capable of it being colorless- she just preferred not to. But here in a crowd, she didn’t like the idea of drawing attention to the small gesture.
It was just for them, anyway.
Harlan was also a welcome sight, and she inclined her head slightly towards him when he drew closer, meeting her gaze. She felt immediately more grounded, more secure with her slaves pressing close. For the first time tonight, she felt like she could breathe deeply, cleanly.
She knew where his loyalties lied, and the look he gave her only confirmed her thoughts.
A strategist he was not, but she would always count him as one of her best.
Her eyes flickered over to the Julius heir as he approached, raising a brow at him when he spoke. The Heir was almost dripping with his own House symbols and wealth, and she almost snorted at him. Trust the Lesser houses to wear their own branding like armor.
She didn’t need it. People knew who she was at a glance.
“It is a dark day in Valore when I side with you,” She said dryly. “We are truly at our most desperate. But, I am glad for your offer. I suppose I could make use of you.”
She wasn’t blind, she knew there was almost nothing to lose for the young Heir. It was a bold venture, and she could respect the courage behind the claim- and she knew that hitching his wagon to the right side of history would spell only fortune for House Julius.
It was a good move. She shouldn’t be so surprised.
Her thoughts of the other commoners, the lessers, her slaves, everyone, slid to the wayside when a young voice spoke to her. Both ears swiveled to the labor slave at once, turning her head to look at him when he approached, his small voice braver than she’d heard it.
“You speak well, kindling.” She replied after a beat, her gaze flickering over him. He stood tall, a new confidence to him, and for a moment it sobered her unexpectedly- he trusted in them to do this. He believed in them.
It was an alien sensation crawling through her. The want to not let him down.
“Your help is appreciated. The reach of labor slaves goes farther than any of us could ever know- your ears are to the pavement. I can only imagine how far your words will travel.” She said. She hesitated, just a moment- only someone like Edenne or Harlan may notice the flicker of indecision that briefly held her tongue. “And I would like to speak more of this blessing with you.” The mention of trouble made one ear flick. “Walk with me, after this. I will ensure you return home with no issue.”
The fact that the offer only extended to Runt went unsaid.
She was uninterested in helping the other labor slave- and she assumed the offer would be rejected anyway.
She glanced over at Eliina, and tilted her head slightly to acknowledge her when she came to stand near her.
“I thank you for your support, Envoy. We will speak of this, before you return to your assignment.” She promised. Eliina was still new to her position, and had less information of the upcoming events then Rosalba- she would need some guidance before she returned to Onea.
She would prefer the War Forged did not know any of what was happening until long after it was over. If they ever heard at all. There were other things to tell the War Forged, perhaps, that may be a thorn in Isador’s side, but she wasn’t positive there would be time for it.
But she would not advise Eliina here in front of everyone- she preferred to keep a united front.
The labor slave boy believed in them. She found herself taking measures to ensure he had no reason to doubt them.
She cleared her throat, lifting her head to address the room once again.
“Your support will be remembered. Know this- we stand at the coming of a new age. We are making history. Every one of us. Every voice, every safe haven offered, is an ember. A glowing spark. Together, we will be the cleansing fire to bring in a new dawn. House Cardea stands with you. And I, not as Adviser or even Emin, thank you all.”
She glanced only briefly towards Edenne before she moved, slipping back a step to ensure she stood without her back to anyone, facing the room at large as slowly, she dropped her head, one foreleg sliding beneath her.
She bowed to them all, rose circlet nearly touching the ground, her eyes closed.
She didn’t care if the other Nobles copied or not. Likely they would. And if they did, all the better- but this gesture was from her.
As much as it rankled her, stung her pride- she was making a point. They needed the help of the people. Not just the nobility.
They had much more to lose then most nobles. She knew that. She knew she asked them to risk their lives, to usher in a new King, but there was nothing else to do. Their lives were at stake, regardless of whether they won or lost.
For as much as she considered herself above the common rabble, considered only those of old blood to be quality- she knew they were still people. Nobility was meant to be above, to lead, to protect.
She could not protect them all. She would do all she could. But there was a cold, prickling sensation in her chest that whispered:
Some will die. It will be your fault.
She rose, pulling her cloak securely around herself and looking out across the room one final time as she nodded slightly to Edenne.
It was time to go.
“I recommend you all do not linger here, tonight. Try to not walk home alone.” She smiled, but it was grim, not quite reaching her eyes.
“Gods be with you. The sun will shine on us all.”
Rosalba is addressing the room at large at the end, but also speaks to/mentions Adonis, Eliina, Edenne, Harlan and Runt! |
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Post by mai | nychnymph on Jan 29, 2021 22:45:50 GMT -6
✷ ✷ ✷
A dark day indeed. Being a thorn in the House Cardea’s side was one of his many pleasures, and being a use for the Advisor Rosalba was exactly not what he wanted. However, they were on the same side as long as Isador sat on the throne. For House Julius, this would be a turning point - and as much as the Advisor would like to deny, Cardea’s many roses would be much protected with his House’s help. Rosalba could not deny the sweetness of that offer - knowing how he could offer protection to the family she cherished.
“Desperate times indeed,” He muttered, matching her dryness easily, before he turned to those who chimed in with their support.
Rosalba was correct as she spoke to the young labor slave. He in turn tilted his head in consideration and appreciation toward the young one, chiming in lowly with a, “Spreading word through the lower castes will be more important than ever for this endeavor -” He spoke louder to the others, “and any and all help will be returned tenfold when we have the dynasty of Soleil back on the throne - no doubt.”
Adonis listened close to the hippocampus, prettily finned and effortlessly stunning, “Your spa may soon be an epicenter for information, and for if that is all you can do, it is more than enough."
And when two others, one with clear pink eyes a marker of the gentry, mentioned a library, he was quick to nod and agree, “That will be most beneficial. The more resources available to those brave enough is ideal for this endeavor. Isador will rue the day he turned against the people of Aodh.”
As Rosalba spoke to the room once more, she bowed her great head. He stared, nearly stunned by the Advisor’s humble gesture. He paused then and looked out to the eyes of the people more common than them. They had the force beyond this room - one of the greatest assets to their cause and the greatest enemy to Isador. As much as his pride and ancestry screamed against him, he dipped his head too - low and humble. House Cardea was many a rueful force for him, but their dynasty had always been righteous and true. This would be a time for House Julius to ascend with them, but beyond all, this would be a time for Aodh to become whole again.
When the room began to dissipate, with equines a many fleeing the room with not rumor but truth on their heels and tongues, he slipped into the deep night once more. Adonis was careful to make sure none were following but also stood a moment just to allow others to pair off into the night - for protection, he had promised. Only when the last of the company at the Goldhead disappeared into the night, did he.
✷ ✷ ✷
Addressing Rosalba, Runt, Tessana, Tate & Shay
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Post by ThatDenver on Jan 30, 2021 9:53:23 GMT -6
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