(2412) Winter Coronation

[Withers]

Nondescript letters found their way throughout Funderland, present where the Local Lost might be able to call upon them.

Within was a simple invitation, bereft of finery and ostentatious decoration, which invited the Lost of Sacramento to the celebrations of the Winter Solstice... and the Crowning of a Winter Sovereign, the first such monarch for Sacramento in some time.

The letter itself indicated an open dress code, but did mention that the evening would be a Masquerade, complete with music, food, and, of course, the promise of a new King.

The locale for the Masquerade? The Mirror Maze, situated in one of the structures larger rooms.

The event seems spartanly decorated, with a few tables for the small Freehold to sit on the left hand side, should they wish. Each table bore a small centerpiece with a small pine wreath, a couple pinecones, and a single white candle, already lit. The center was dominated by a space for dancing, situated in front of a fire pit which currently possessed a low fire, crackling quietly as much of the space instead was filled with classical music played from a small speaker system at the back of the room. Appropriately, with the appointed time now looming close, the speakers were playing Winter, from The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi. A small, nondescript sidetable sat beside the pit, bearing strips of paper and pens on its surface.

On the far right of the room sat a long, low table, astride with appropriate dishes, including a hearty stew of beef and potatoes, a glazed ham, potato au gratin, green bean casserole, cranberry jam, candied yams, apple pie, and shortbread cookies. Much of the items were store bought, but a few seemed to be authentically homemade.

For refreshments, a crockpot with mulled wine and another with hot, alcohol free cider sat upon the table as well, next to a small water cooler. Plastic cutlery, as well as paper bowls, plates, and cups finished out the spread, with a small trashcan tucked beneath for easy cleanup.

The stage was set.

[Saber Sloth]

Stray when Withers spends the 1 Glamour into the Wyrdstone to change the season please describe your crown! When Withers is Crowned can someone please @me so I can do some narration!

After Withers spends the glamour and is crowned, the Courtless and anyone who hasn't been granted Freehold Status 1 must also spend 1 glamour into the Wyrdstone, to gain or keep their Freehold Status.

[Withers]

The space itself was not entirely empty.


One of the hosts, the ancient-looking Darkling known as Withers, was already present.


He wore a black suit, with a deep blue paisley vest. The ever-present cane was clutched at his side by his ink-black, gnarled fingers as his dark eyes rested on the entrance.


The Antiquarian had stationed himself by a small table which boasted a selection of cheap, dollar-store masquerade masks, a precaution that had been Sven's idea should the Freehold boast members unable to afford their own.


However, the ancient himself did not bear one of these masks upon his face, opting instead for white mask reminiscent of an owl.

Though his form remained as bent as ever, the Darkling was otherwise quite still, waiting patiently for the guests of his Court to arrive.

[Sonnie Wu]

Yeah, Sonnie was surprised when she was handed a letter the next time she stopped by Funderland. She usually didn't get mail here, obviously.

Wow, a new Winter Monarch!

Wait... we have Winters?

Wasn't there one or two at the Autumn Coronation? Oh, right! The old guy and the young guy.

A moment of realization.

I... I don't remember their names.

That's gonna be an awkward introduction...

Despite her random internal monologues, the Beast made it a point to arrive in a (for her) timely manner. She was not a slave to clocks, just ask her boss at the dojo. At least she didn't get lost finding the Mirror Maze, like last time. Thankfully, nobody knew about that.

So it was that Ms. Sonja Wu, Claviger of the Spring Court, arrived to the Winter Coronation Celebration Gala! She came in a cute red sweater dress! At least it was seasonally appropriate.

As seemed to be the theme for this evening, she also had a masquerade-style mask! It was of a monkey. Whoever could this mysterious stranger be? The simian tail swaying behind her couldn't possibly be a clue.

The Masked Stranger(?) gazed about the chamber in a bit of awe. "Oh, this is fancy. I may be a bit underdressed..." she said to herself, the toes of her bare monkey feet flexing. Wait, she had no shoes on?

Spying the only other person here so far, the Steepscrambler meandered over to him, "Hello, Mr. Owl! How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?"

[Svelte Sven]

For once in a while, Sven's usual attire was entirely appropriate for the impression he was trying to make. It was formal but had an image associated with butlers and waitstaff, meaning the same expectations of dress didn't necessarily apply to guests. It was also in keeping with the color scheme of Winter, matching both the event itself and his Court's symbolism. Would any of this come to mind to other Lost? Perhaps not, but the small amount of satisfaction it brought Sven as he moved to finish preparations was enough.

The Chatelaine spent at least two minutes fussing with the placement of serving utensils at the food table before assuring himself that nobody was going to comment on it. That was followed by another minute of adjusting the utensils before he finally convinced himself that there were better things to obsess about before guests arrived. He was just about to rearrange the chairs when he heard footsteps and looked up to see their first guest.

Fastening his own mask (or half-mask, in this case), the thin man quietly strode over to the Beast as she made conversation with Withers. Making sure to not interrupt either of the other Lost, Sven made a deep bow before addressing the Spring. "Good evening, Ms. Wu. We thank you for attending. Seating and refreshments are available at your leisure, and I will be at your service. I am happy to address any concerns or questions you may have at this Coronation." The younger Darkling glanced at Withers briefly, cautious to see if there was any sign of displeasure. Careful... you're slipping into old habits.

[Circe]

Circe has dressed down for the event, a simple collared polo-shirt in deep green, khaki cargo pants in black, sturdy black shoes, and she has a durable yet nice overcoat atop the semi-professional attire. Circe has considered something more martial. Vanity chain with vambraces perhaps? One of her usual suits hiding armor beneath? But that wasn't what Winter was about, it was about respect.


And pockets easily hidden with things hidden in them. If she need to be a little more formal then she buttons up to the collar and adds the clip on bowtie hidden in on such pocket. A duo of snowflake earrings show further respect for the season, so to speak. And upon her face? A metallic mask trying to draw more connection with Circe's newest contract.


Chill was no concern. Her Mantle and Contracts could fix that quite quickly. And both Winters were already present, that is good. And the monkey of Spring is present. Who thinks she is under dressed? Circe would argue Sonja has respected one of the more well known Winter holidays.


"If so Sonja," she smiles as she walks into the group, "I might be able to lend you a tie. Could help, just saying."


Then turns to greet the Winters. "Hail and well met Withers," she gives a small bow to the elder Winter, "Sven," and then turns to do the same with the younger Winter. And then notes how well dressed the pair of Winters are. Then looks to Sonja. Then down at herself. Then sighs with a smile as she turns to Sonja, "Okay, Sonja. We might be underdressed. Think I'm only like, 35% maybe?" Circe isn't going to judge Sonja's attire for the Winters. Draw agro was a Contract that Circe has. With a chuckle she shakes her head, "I am not nearly as dapper as our hosts. We at the least need to praise them for the quality of dress."


She looks back at the Winters, "I will fully admit, you both look much snazzier than me. I believe the saying now is, you have the rizz." A brief pause, "I belief it is a cutdown of charisma. Personally, I like snazzy better."