(2006) Summer Solstice
42243
THREADID
61
POSTS
21 - 30
DISPLAYED
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Circe - as bashful as she was - was showering the Wasp with the attention she sought, perhaps falling prey to her obvious lure.
As for herself, being not one to decline an invite - not once but twice - she opted to weigh carefully her next words, as to not mince them.
She steps forward, perhaps invading a bit too brazenly the other woman's personal space, getting into an intimate face to face, with little care for her comfort.
"I have received schooling from the best tutors of my age", she says, her husky voice melting like honey against the Wasp's antennae. "What is it that you offer to teach me, not once, but twice?", she asks, leering innocently into her eyes.
failure
"No no no!" Sonnie shook her heard empathically, "I heard it talk! Really! It said it was cold! Eggs won't hatch if they're cold, after all!" The Beast seemed perfectly earnest. All of a sudden, she jumped slightly, looking suspiciously at the Wyrdstone, "There! You all heard that, right? It just called me Momma!" Seriously, did no one else hear it?
She gave Circe a strange look, "Wyrdstone?" So it wasn't an egg? "Magic rocks can still talk, though. I mean, they could if they wanted to, right? Right?" She looked around for some much wanted confirmation.
Oh crap, I'm not going crazy, am I?
Like I'm not already?
No!
Eat some more weird-ass magic fruit from an alien dimension, you self-proclaimed reincarnation of a mythological figure.
Yeah, well... shut up!
In bad need of a distraction from her possibly eroding sanity, Sonnie looked back towards Coco. "Uh, yeah! I think all we'll find here are some tarps. But hey, we should totally schedule a sleepover-slash-blanket fort party!" That sounded like a blast! She did own plenty of pillows. They could make quite a fortress!
Fugly had taken to sitting quietly by the food table, waiting for someone to come and drop a juicy morsel or two.
She watches and listens as Coco talks. And then the poke at Summer was a bit much.
“A slumber party sounds like a lot of fun! Great idea Coco. Though perhaps after Queen Circe has had her night and we have all celebrated her Season.” Because Circe was due her night in the spotlight. “I’m sure you could turn the Tavern into a sleep over paradise!” a little praise was always good.
Wait, she wasn’t Queen right now. This was Summers night, the passing of the Crown.
A bright smile was offered to the dwarf, “Good evening Anatole! You’re looking quite dashing.” The effort was there, and she would point it out.
The Italian wasn’t understood, so she looked back to Anatole, “How’ve you been?” remembering she had wanted to have him over to the coffee shop.
“Hm?” she says, blinking a few times and looking to Rhodes, “Oh, Uh, yeah, fine.” The smile a bit forced, but he’d be the only one to know that.
“Yes Queen Circe, please, let everyone know about the artifact.” She encourages with a less forced smile, this one with more warmth.
Eyes watch Titania and how close she steps to Coco, wondering how this was going to turn out.
“Sonnie, it’s not an egg. I promise you, it’s not.” Seriously, where was she getting this?
“I’ll gladly supply all the extra blankets and pillows I have to the cause.” She had a ton. Seemed she was always finding a new throw pillow or blanket she loved. Especially if it was a soft blanket, she had tons of those. Maybe too many. But she’s never admit that.
Spying Fugly, she walks over to find him something appropriate to eat. “Here you go.” she coos, crouching down to hand feed him while the other hand pats him. Those slits were getting dangerously close to exposing things that should not be exposed. But the Nix seemed unbothered by it, happy to feed Fugly.
Bugul had not been seen much lately.
He was aware, but his musings had required a great deal of internal thought, alongside worship and long conversations with his guides among the Thousand Voices. However, tonight was a coronation and Bugul knew well that he would be looked for or noted absent.
Donning a pair of old gray slacks and a white button down, Bugul made his way to the arena, finally entering the same space as other Sacramento Changelings for the first time in a while. His clothes were wrinkled, but clean. His right hand was bandaged. His hair was unruly and his eyes had a wild edge to them... but the Goatman was smiling. And, if the old cardboard box in his hands was a sign of anything, he had brought a gift.
He caught Circe's glance seemed the jig was up but she hadn't outed him so he smiled and gave a nod of the head to her raising his beer in a toast before taking a swig as Anatole came over, looked like they were both the barfly's of the freehold.
"A very good question, seems like Circe's about to give the Spiel and Rhodes' is on hand for clarification. I figured if it was a bomb the monarchs wouldn't all be the same room so we're safe?" It was still a question, it could still do something terrible but he'd weighed the risks.
Seeing Anatole eat gave him permission to start picking at the spread too. Hearing Yamiyo say she was a seamstress of sorts had piqued his interest. "I'll definitely need something fancier come Winter if you wouldn't mind, my hands aren't really made for such."
He'd merely been observing, mostly Coco's kicking the hornets nest. Pun intended. And wondered if this anger, this spite, was new to her or had always been there. Wasp sure, but he was wondering if perhaps her time in Spring was coming to a close. Food for thought as he took another bite.
Unable to miss Angel's entrance he offered her a half smile and a nod of acknowledgement as he kept still in his place. An eyebrow quirked as he saw the bandage on Bugul's hands but noting the box he held his tongue until he'd said his hello to the Queen of Summer.
Circe smirks in amusement as Sonja continues to fall for the trickery. "Probably though this one doesn't. But ventriloquism is a thing," she moves to be in front of Sonja in order to boop the monkey on the nose with her index finger, "Someone's pranking you, boop."
Then moves back to the Wyrdstone before shouting to James, "James! Is quite right, it ain't gonna explode."
She then puts her back to the Wyrdstone to hold her hands up in presentation, "Ladies, gentlemen, and every other category ya can think of!" Circe smiles as she leans back to put her left arm on the Wyrdstone, "This is the Wyrdstone. Fer a long time this Freehold has had a mystical problem. So not me, mystical. That problem is the Freehold Oath don't wanna work. This," she pours Glamour into the Wyrdstone, "Is the solution. The Wyrdstone! Retrieved by yer sovereigns ta the benefit of all of ya! Now the Oath may be taken once more! Ta dah."
The treasured strikes a pose, their face a mask of interest. What could this mean?
"Will this protect us from the eyes of the gentry?" Safety? Security? Those ideas are almost too foreign to contemplate.
The treasures eyes move, though their body is still, eyes falling on the other Winter, then Anatole, curious how these acquaintances are reacting to the announcement.
The Lost feel it, the moment the Glamour leaves the Queen of the Iron Spear, the Wyrdstone shudders, thrumming now like a heartbbeat, keeping particular time. Circe will know that it's the beat of her heart.
Spreading from Circe to the Monarch of Autumn and Spring, then their Courtiers, the Seasons beside, then to the Winters, in opposite. A Quite sense of belonging. Yes, these are those of the Freehold. These people are not agents of the Others. Compared to the possibility of near suffocation of the Wyrd when called and bound by Pledge this is only a pleasant buzz in the back of your awareness.
It will not alter your feeling or punish you for your actions. The Lost are Lost, but they are people too, and as every Changeling knows emotions can run ever so high...
And Bugul stands out, Courtless, an outlier like he doesn't yet belong, someone only wearing a Visitor's badge, but he too, can belong to the Freehold as well...
Stray you can pay 1 Glamour into the Wyrdstone now