This is for adding a Search Category to the thread.
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Fu looks blankly as Spartan goes old school. That sounded like something from a movie. Maybe it was? There's a split moment when Spartan goes to a knee and Fu remains standing. Throwing a quit glance around he decides to follow suit. Spartan had started it so why not play how he wants too play. Fu drops to a knee and lets his hands fall to the ground. Sharp nails hanging barely above the floor.
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"I'll think I'll join you in signing up, if you don't mind. Although, probably just two of them, I don't have much in the talent portion though." Tally says after a few moments of thought. She did want to get out and get to know her fellow changelings after all.
I wonder just what kind of physical challenges they'll have. The courtless Hunterheart wonders while being sure to stick close to Yui. "Or are you two coming too to sign up?" Tally asks Al-Adin and Faith.
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Rust looks over the two courtiers. "Do you both know what this means? What does it mean to be the champion of Wrath?" Rust steps forward toward Spartan. Toward his brother from Arcadia itself. "We have jobs. We have Wardens, Sentries, and Tongues. We have Shadows and Mules and Grunts. These Titles are monikers for employment."
Rust straightens himself up, standing proud of the ways of his court. "We have these things. And then We have our Champion. Our Red Victor. Our Court is this Freehold's Wrath burning fire against Arcadia. Our Champion leads that blaze. Wrath is hate. Hate magnified so bright it scorches both brother and villain alike. The Red Victor is as old as Summer itself. To be Victor means to hold all strength and stand as the ultimate example. The Ultimate Sacrifice. It can not be taken lightly for it carries the weight of death." Rust feels his mantle intensifying in volume, feeding off the stronger auras from Fu and Spartan. "Spartan. To become Champion you must Hate Fu. You must Hate him for who he is and what he has become. He showed weakness when he was captured. In his weakness he lost his Honor" Rust blinks a tear rolling to his eye. Fuck him if it would rip Fu apart but it was true. Only Truth. "Hate him so deeply all you know is wrath. If that is too much. You are not the Champion of my Court."
With a military twist Rust changes course for the other. "Fu, You acted surprised? You thought I would strip you of your Honor after your shame. That is not OUR way. You keep what you earn and you earned this Title. You are Hatred. That is what it meant when you took this title. The meaning has not changed. You took this Title with your power. Did you learn what it meant? You went unopposed by any other. Yet you face opposition now. Opposition? Obstacle?
You are Wrath against all who would oppose this Freehold. Further, You are contempt for weakness among your brothers. There is no weakness in you. There can not be. Prove that. Crush the challenger. Prove you are not weak. Prove you have Honor"
Rust turns to the Freehold. "I do not rule with the Strength of my Fist or the Volume of my Voice. I rule because I am Summer. Look on this display not as a game. Games are trivial. They mean nothing. But this? This means everything. There can only be ONE Red Victor. We do not have 'former' Red Victors. This is not Rust's way. This is Summer's way. Blood will be shed and My Court will be Crimson.
This is a rare Ceremony. I do not wish the death of my Brothers. Yet death is a fact of war and Wrath and hate and Summer. I can not bar the sword from those who have taken the name of our Court with such power and then sullied it with humiliation. If you hate me for allowing this. Then you see the Truth in it."
Rust turns and begins to walk back toward the Throne and his Mantle flashed blue and violet. He takes the Throne, his Throne; and as he sits he is fury. Those keen on the emotions of others feel Rust' hatred bared. It seems directed inward rather then pinned toward anyone else present. "Wrath knows not Compassion. It is a luxury not affordable in war. Wrath knows Brotherhood. Fu, Castor, as brothers your Wrath is shared. Defeat the hated foe who would rob you both of Honor. Defeat the Weakness that is Compassion. Fight to die or back out and live in shame. These are the terms of this Contest."
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Alice came up next to nightfall with the ceremony of the crowning over to watch with him what was going on. She is dumbfounded by what she sees. The crown hasn't been on Rust's head for five minutes and this happens. She turns to nightfall and speaks in a voice loud enough to be heard by those around her, and not just Nightfall.
"Let me get this strait, they are sanctioning murder for the sake of a title with the gentry breathing down our neck?"
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Katrin
Katrin remains standing on the stage for a few moments, her expression remains unchanged while Rust speaks. Suddenly an expression slowly starts to surface. She looks to Rust, Spartan and FU. It was an expression of disappointment and sorrow. Sorrow for what was about to happen.
This was the summer courts way and as Katrin made her way from the stage and headed out of the Hollow Commons doors, quickly joined by Bert and Harvey she reminded herself that although she did not agree with it, it was how the summer court operated in the freehold. Every court had their place and customs. She did not wish to see one of the freehold die this evening.
Katrin, Harvey & Bert Leave
Rook felt a sharp, internal tug as he looked towards the contest. A fight to the death? Over some ridiculous title? What in the blazes were they on? Conflating wrath with hatred was a bizarre way of looking at it, too. He'd been angry with his kids when they'd drawn on the walls with sharpies. He couldn't really say he'd ever hated them. He figured this Summer Court didn't see things the way he did at all.
Probably better he was just a drifter, really. When he inevitably ended up having his tongue or eyes betray him and he had to move, at least he wouldn't feel much connection to people who conflated rightful anger into a poisonous hatred of their opponents, so much so that it burned into themselves.
He pushed his sunglasses up his nose, reflexively making sure his eyes were covered, and tried to say something supportive. His tongue sealed against the roof of his mouth, and his pride wouldn't let him show it, so he just stood there, stone-faced.
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Kaito watched the ceremony like everyone else. Smiling as the crown was passed from Alice to Rust, it was a happy occasion... and then it had quickly gone sound. Kaito turned back towards the bar and ordered another drink. She looked to Sweet Tooth and Simon slightly shocked at the news that it would be a fight to the death.
"What do you make of this?" She asked the pair. It was a Title, sure it represented a noble cause but no cause could be so worthy. But that kind of thinking was probably the reason why she would make a crap summer.
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Al-Adin takes the fist pump and meets it strongly, nodding and grinning. "I think I can win this time. I will win this time." He pauses.
"I wonder what the competetions will be this time."
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Sneaky, a very sneaky move by Spartan. Traditionally, through Changeling society, the challenged was allowed to name the terms of the contest. Which would allow Fu to limit it to unarmed combat and seemingly grant him an edge in the upcoming fight. But instead of asking for terms from the one he had challenged Spartan instead asked them of Rust, and Rick doubted there was any in the Freehold closer to Rust than the Bloodbrute. Rust's terms would almost certainly be more favorable to Spartan than Fu's would have been. Not to mention that it would be...difficult, to say the least, for anyone to contest Rust's terms now that he'd been asked to name them. Sneaky, and...perhaps something of a dangerous precedent to set.
Then Rust's announcement hits like a punch to the gut. Did Rust really think there were so many Summers, so many Freeholders, in Sacramento that one's life could be wasted over a glorified pissing contest for a title? And given the departure from the traditional format that had already happened he'd hardly be surprised if rumors that this was all an assassination attempt started to swirl. Fu was the only other Summer, after all, whose mantle was powerful enough to allow him to claim the crown. From a purely objective standpoint...it looked awfully suspicious. From a subjective one it looked foolish and wasteful at the very least.
He hid his scowl of disapproval as he slipped off the dais and merged back into the crowd.
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Presence
Striking Looks
Goodwill"That's your goddamned problem, Rust," Nightfall said clearly and loudly, just as clearly leaving the name unadorned by title.
"Anger and Wrath are not hate. They can be of hate, just as our hate can spawn Fear, or Desire, or Sorrow. Just like Wrath can blossom from Desire, Fear, or Sorrow. They are not the same."
"You're going to demand one of these men to kill the other, or walk away in shame because you Hate. You hate yourself, and you hate the rest of us as much as you hate The Gentry. Summer, and Summer's Wrath, are ascendent," Nightfall continued, shaking his head and making a cutting motion with his hand.
"Rust's Hate is not."
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