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 Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 1:26 pm
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Beyond the curtain of fuzzy static snow is the great hall of the Court. Months ago, it had transitioned from ivory to ebony throughout the night of sacrifice. Now it is simply a well-appointed galleria. The floors are a dark hardwood, the walls whitewashed and hung with fantastic paintings. The windows sink into neat recesses, and look out over quiet, starlit gardens.
Three long tables covered with pristine white tablecloths occupy the center of the room. There is a lectern at the head of them, an incongruous whiteboard beside it. As yet, there is nothing written on it.
Fetches, all of them evidently from the Spinel Lady's employ from their heavy black dress and moon-pale masks, greet you at the door, take your coats. Today, the clothing of the visitors does not change; today they are allowed their self-expression, their little foibles.
The table to the farthest left is for the wargs; this can be determined by the name tags. There are little cushions for their bonded familiars. There are water glasses, filled, with a single large sphere-shaped ice cube in the bottom. Alone at the table is a nervous-looking young woman and her tiny terrier of a dog.
The center table is for the nobles, with water glasses filled and stools for their tithes should they choose to bring them.
The right table is for the weres. Rather than chairs, they have stools, the better to accommodate their differences in anatomy. (The tails. I'm talking about the tails.) They, too, have filled water glasses and nothing else.
There is no sign, as yet, of the regents of the Spinel Lady. Only the fetches by the door, and waiting quietly along the walls. This is a greeting time.
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Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 1:35 pm
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the rules.
This thread and all threads associated with it function as a clearinghouse for plot information related to the Charter meta-subplot. Should your character be in attendance, you will be able to assume from here on out that your character knows most of the publically available information. Privately available information, such as the names of the original Charter signatories, remains private. As such, there's a couple rules for how this will go:
This thread counts as an incentivized RP. It is worth three RPs towards your next growth stage (but not towards your noble requirements, should you be attending as a tithe).
To qualify for this RP incentive, you must post at least 800 words in The Conference (this thread) before it wraps on May 5th.
If your character attempts to bring in a weapon using a method other than hammerspacing it or to start a fight, please quote shibrogane for your consequences.
No conversations conducted in this thread are "private" (unless they are conducted telepathically or otherwise magically). Players will be able to eavesdrop on anything in this thread.
If you want your characters to have a private conversation, post a new thread here in the event forum. While that second thread is ongoing, your characters are still assumed to be aware of what's happening in this, the main thread, but cannot directly intervene without abandoning their conversation.
This new thread can count as a separate RP if both characters hit 450 words.
There will be a GM update every other day moving time along. However, GM-controlled characters will post as necessary.
Have fun! If you have questions, please join us in the Discord and ask in the #questions channel.
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Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 1:37 pm
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Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 1:55 pm
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Nasir did not know what to expect when the twenty-first came around. He was antsy, nervous, constantly wondering would this be like the fairy ball?
Wil tried to help but there was little to distract him. Instead he had picked out nice clothing, gathered up Trouble and walked through the strange pathway to other ashdown before him.
He had not expected to immediately be in the Court, in the hall that he had not seen in months, but he was. When he saw the woman at the table with the terrier, a flash of recognition went through him.
The one who had- at Blackfriars she- Nasir walked, surprisingly steadily, over to the table and blinked when he saw a name tag with his name. Trouble hopped off of his shoulder and, as if he knew, put himself on the little seat that was perfectly his size.
whomever, nasir is all alone okay
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Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 8:43 pm
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Entering the great hall, America wrapped her arms around herself despite the the many light layers of clothes and thin shawl she wore. Mr. B was on her shoulder, playing quietly with one of the dangly earrings she wore, for once not announcing them both with his hawkish cry. She was dressed nicely, but not too dressed up, and it had take about a week for her to figure out what to wear that met that safe medium. She'd looked nice, if more modest than usual, but there was a sense of disarray that wasn't typical and would be hard to explain to anyone who only knew her in passing.
America Jones had a way of looking like she belonged wherever she was, dressed however she might be. There was a confidence in her physicality that overwrote context. Except, it wasn't there. She looked uncomfortable and figity as she reluctantly parted from Preacher, who'd firmly dragged her toward the doorway to the Other Place after seeing America's I will I won't I have to I can't I will carousel of hesitating movement a block away. She looked like she didn't belong anywhere at all, not even in her own clothes.
The tag was a tiny moment of a relief in the face of everything else, someone telling her what to do, a choice that didn't have to be made. Ignoring the cushion, Mr. Bitterberry hopped down from her shoulder to perch at the edge of her glass and take a polite sip of water. Nasir got a big, tremulous smile, but most of her attention was for Lara and beside her, Cerby. The girl flushed and looked away, but couldn't help turning her gaze right back to stare for another few moments until she dragged it away, embarrassed and ashamed but curious all the same.
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Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 8:54 pm
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Preacher figured she should dress short of nice, so she had on one of those tank tops that had a tux screen printed across the front of it. The bottom half of it had been cut off - the plight of the short. Her pants, at least, had minimal holes. "Ya welcome, darlin'," she called out after America's retreating form. This place was spooky in the way rich people's houses were; they didn't ever feel lived in. She wondered if she could pilfer something. It wasn't stealing if it happened in bullshit land, anyway.
Oooh, segregated tables, how fun. This was a big, serious meeting so she had to be her big, serious self. Too bad she was only 4'11". A damn shame. She hopped on the stool and tried to spin it. Failing that, she ducked under the table, transformed into a mink and began to scurry about. Preacher wondered if the water was a) poisoned or b) laced with weird a**-magic.
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Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 9:12 pm
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Horace was, for once, dressed neatly and nothing clashed. This was solely because he was wearing his working clothes: a grey vest, red tie, white collared shirt, the works. The jewelry, though, that stayed in. He clacked his tongue barbell against his teeth and immediately regretting it as the still-healing piercing protested. It was time, he thought... maybe. He straightened his vest and stepped inside.
He had wandered for a while, but the magic must have sensed he had a meeting to attend and here he was. Handy, that. Three pocket tap: Keys, wallet, phone, bat on the shoulder check. If not for the colorful artwork, he'd think he was back in Florida. Taking a deep breath, he moved into the hall.
"Hey, Nasir," he called out before hushing himself. Was it supposed to be like a library?
shibrogane mini tonfa is on his keychain
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Posted: Fri Apr 21, 2017 9:18 pm
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Somehow the appearance of a static window of white snow appearing in the backyard near sunset was ... fitting. Jeremiah had looked to Algie, things that might be needed already tucked away in the useful bit of pocket space he had discovered (notebooks, it was stuff for record keeping), and offered his arm to his husband to step through together.
He was dressed as nice as normal, the familiar three piece suits of work (though his vest was a deep purple today), and blinked in surprise as they were suddenly within the familiar great hall of the Court. The tables caught his attention almost immediately, especially when he realized it was segregation. His fingers pressed against Algie's arm lightly, Jeremiah not moving to sit at all yet.
Catching sight of Nasir and America, he flicked his hand in greeting until he saw Lara and that was still a punch in the gut. His bright-eyed gaze went to Preacher next, though all he caught was her form slipping underneath the table and a flash of tail.
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2017 7:49 am
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As soon as Hux stepped through the curtain of static, he frowned. His grey-blue eyes roamed the achingly familiar set-up of the hall and his arms crossed over his wide chest. He hadn't been back to the court since the ball, hadn't been in touch with anyone from the OAD since then either. Aside from his recent sign on to the listserv and a couple texts with Alexis, he'd kept himself carefully segregated from the rest of the world.
He was dressed casually, as was usual for him, and considering the garb the court had dressed him up in last time- he was thankful for the change in policy. He wore a dark grey shirt that opened at the collar, a pair of dark wash jeans, and a pair of bulky brown boots. Around his waist was a worn brown belt, and he'd even managed to shower beforehand.
Lilt, however, had dressed up.
The tiny fetch hovered around her lord nervously, fidgeting with the layers of light and near-translucent fabric she'd draped over her skeletal frame. Atop her head, a circle of flowers was perched. Everything on her was a pink and white pastel. She looked like a tiny, freakish princess.
"C'mon, then. Let's sit." Hux said, as his long legs carried him across the hall to the table at the center. He chose a chair at the very edge and sat down in it heavily. Lilt settled in the stool by his side.
Together, they waited. A grumpy giant and his princess bride.
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2017 10:40 am
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He had gone into their first meeting confused and come out mortified. Their second, hopeful, then disgusted, enraged, terrified. Now, Rabbit felt nothing. This was a thing that had to be done. He was no longer excited or afraid, he was just tired. He wanted this to be over and he wanted to go home.
Rabbit entered the hall via the portal provided, resplendent in... rolled up patchy jeans and a brown t-shirt with a picture of Gizmo on the chest. In spite of himself, he smirked and shook his head. Of course, today would be the day the magic would leave his clothes alone.
He glanced behind him to make sure Temperance had made it through, then took stock of the room as his expression fell back to neutral caution. Great. If people didn't already hate him for the choices he hadn't made, they would when he took a seat at the jock table.
"You can sit with someone you know if you want." Surely she had better people to talk to than him. "I'll be over there, I guess." Rabbit raised the spiral notebook he had brought to his chest like a shield, but his feet didn't move.
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2017 11:00 am
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Algie of course appeared on his husband's arm. The room was given a glance and as always the Professor seemed to suffer from his usual resting frown-face until he saw those he recognized.
Both America and Nasir were given small smiles and gestured waves. The urge was strong to just go and sit with the wargs, even when he noticed Lara and felt a sink in his gut. She was here.. and seemingly fine and had no one known? They probably hadn't even thought to pursue checking. It should have been something he noticed given they'd known each other from work before the world changed but she hadn't come to his attention. It felt like a grand oversight. Not like he was very good at staying in touch with anyone..
Alg's arm curled lightly around Jeremiah's, fingers pressing lightly before loosening. The noble table was waiting for them but he suddenly didn't want to sit there. Lately there had been a feeling of aggression, of alienation, and the entire thing - this entire meeting - made him uncomfortable.
Of course it wasn't so terrible to mingle so instead of going to sit he drifted a bit towards the warg table, urging Jeremiah to join him as he drifted over, and nearing them all gave a greeting to even those he didn't know, "Evening.."
He wanted to lean and give tha animals attention, but instead they all simply got a smile, "Everyone alright?"
Rabbit and Temperance's entrance behind them also got a small smile and nod.
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2017 2:40 pm
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Horace was stopped at the door by a silent fetch. Another, evidently allowed to speak, said, "You have a weapon?" She pulled Horace's small tonfa to her with a gesture of her hand. After a long moment's inspection of the keys, she said, "It will be allowed. Felt will stay with you." The silent fetch bowed its head. "Do not start any fights."
Lara smiled at America, the same comforting smile she'd had when first telling America she was a warg. Nasir got a smile, too, but it was a more puzzled one. She turned that same welcoming smile on each new arrival to the warg's table, though those who weren't wargs got a strange look on top of it. Apparently she kept her ability to detect wargs when she came between the worlds. "I think it's alright to talk," she said to Horace. "Thank goodness the rest of you are here now. I was getting nervous I had the wrong static-curtain-door."
Then she glanced at Cerby for a second, and said, "Oh, sorry, manners! I'm Lara. This is Cerby, my warg. Please don't pet him; he's my service dog."
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2017 2:47 pm
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Oliver was (albeit a little guiltily) relieved when he stepped through the door and didn't see his brother. It was a surprise though, if only because this was Court, and his brother was apparently neck deep in the s**t; thanks. a*****e. Regardless, he wasn't wearing anything terribly fancy, mostly because he hadn't bothered to ask anyone about the nuances of this s**t sans his conversation with Nasir a few days prior.
Suffice to say, amid the individuals attempting to look classy or neat (a few didn't, and that helped his predicament), there was Oliver. Skinny jeans, graphic t-shirt with that three wolves howling at the moon thing except with tabby cats, and a pair of really thick sunglasses. Was the world hard to parse through them? Absolutely, but he was also walking into a den of magic users, and the magic of Court already hit him like 500% bleach infused Lysol, and he wasn't looking forward to the sights and smells and sounds of everyone else's magic.
He produced a pair of earbuds for good measure, shielding away from one of the fetches when they greeted him at the front.
Instead he made an awkward beeline to sit down, but stopped when he realized there were name cards. Why the ******** were there name cards? What was this, middle school? He looked disdained, but it was hard to see the squint of his eyes through his obnoxious Ferris Bueller sunglasses. His eyes swept over to Nasir and Horace and the other wargs who were partying it up, and then like a petulant child went to sit at the far end of the moonwalker table to sulk. In the back of his mind was his meeting with Ezra and the burning sensation of his now-smooth thumb.
This sucks, he thought at no one in particular, mostly because he wasn't aware he could even do that sort of thing.
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