(Temple of the Crone) Midsummer

[Swift]

August 1st was not a night that most American's recognized as anything special. From ancient times, however, this night has been revered as a time of celebration. Even the Bard paid homage to the night of Midsummer.

Dr. Swift waited in the Temple of the Crone to see who would arrive - who would attend his invitation. The Summer Solstice had not been a success by any standard, but this was his tribulation. In the end, it did not matter if he made the rest of the Circle happy. What mattered that he understood the lessons of the Crone, and that he kept sacred the intent of the worship.

He waited inside the church, but from outside the tell-tale flicker of fire was evident. Nothing so much as to be worrysome, or near to the sanctuary, but enough to warn those that came. Tonight's worship was not to be taken lightly.

  4 suxx to avoid Fear Frenzy while lighting a controlled fire

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2013-08-02 00:04:42		Dr. Swiift rolls 7 to avoid fear frenzy while lighting a fire (campire size = 2 suxx required, not surpirsed, not surrounded) (10 Again)		9, 10, 4, 7, 10, 2, 3, 8, 6		4 successes

[Claire Edmonton]

Strolling in like she owns the place, because she figures she could if she cared to, Siren Tunt has decided to don a purple-on-back patterned dress, the shining silk providing a nice contrast with the gold bracelet and necklace selections for the evening. Her face will not say if her necklace was chosen ironically or not.

Choice Ensemble

She leans back just a touch as she draws close to the newcomer, as much as that naughty little notion in her wants her to draw the athame from her handbag and drive it through his neck. Instead, she smiles as the thoughts are banished away. "Good evening, Hierophant. Before the evening is through, we need to speak in private."

She pauses, gaze between the two of them, and waits to be introduced.

[Swift]

Dr. Swift, attired in a simple white button shirt and black slacks for the evening, looks up from his meditations as the first to the celebrations arrive. He is only somewhat surprised that the first arrival is one he has never seen before. His earlier wrestle with the beast -- when setting the fire that now flickered lazily in a brazier behind a screen where once the altar to this Church-turned-Temple stood -- had left his normal easy control a bit tattered. So it takes him a bit longer than normal to reign in the instant urge to tear the newcomer to pieces and establish that this Temple was his.

After a brief pause, however, the Heirophant smiles and offers a welcoming gesture. "Welcome, Mr. Cole. I am indeed the Hierophant of our Circle here. Given that I have not met you before I assume you are then from another Circle before?"

Shortly after Siren Tunt arrives and he gives her a smile and a nod. "Of course, Siren Tunt." Gesturing to the newcomer he adds, "I was just getting acquainted with Mr. Dallas Cole here." He assumed the other man was an Acolyte, but did not wish to extend the title until he had confirmation. After all, Herald Villiers text had said she was bringing a "Mr. D C" whom he had assumed was Dillon Connery. Dallas Cole fit that just as easily, though. Still, the Herald was not here yet, so he assumed his initial expectation was still correct.

[Claire Edmonton]

"Charmed, I'm sure, Mr. Cole," remarks Claire, and with the chipper mood she seems to be in, a lyrical emphasis might be confused for the reason Swift has just called her a Siren. She pauses to consider the mood of the newcomer further, and if he seems unlikely to have a problem because of it, she offers her hand to him for a more thorough greeting. But only if she expects no chance of foul incident from the large blond man.

Turning to the good Doctor, she states coyly, "I do hope the others will all arrive shortly. It would not do to have to introduce another new petitioner to just the two of us again."

[RebornSeas]

"Somber" was not something one could easily describe Kassidy Harrington's wardrobe with. Oh, he had a few black pieces, some white ones... but most of his formal wear was in Greens and Golds, and there was some burgundies... it had taken him some time to find something that he felt was appropriate for the prescribed mood.

He had a small black purse that held his knife, and a small frog bone. Cleaning the bone of flesh had been a learning experience. Getting it? Had involved making himself a little ridiculous. It had seemed disingenuous not to get the bone with his own hands and effort, so he hadn't bought one, and had instead gone to a small frog pond and spent the better part of two hours trying to catch one of the jumpy bastards. He emerged victorious, and now had a frog skeleton in a box, missing a thigh bone. The thigh bone was with him, as per Heirophant Swift's request.

And, thus dressed with such items on him, he entered the Temple and quickly took in the seen and the young thing talking to the Two established Acolytes. "Good evening, Heirophant, Siren. Thank you for inviting me." He gave a pleased smile - though a cautious one. He was at least a little bit aware that he wasn't an Acolyte yet, as much as he wanted to be. Hopefully he could get a chance to talk about things with Dr. Swift...

And he wanted to give a full disclosure of his experience at the Revel. It perhaps wasn't significant, but he wanted advice on how to pursue what it had edged his interest towards.

[Martha Villiers]

To prepare for the evening Martha had made a real effort to dress up. It was a ceremony and ceremony demanded both ritual and costume.

She wore a tastefully long egg-shell blue satin gown; she'd added an azure shawl, long blue opera gloves and a dab of ruby red lipstick and blusher. Her raven dark hair is piled in a very elegant Gibson Girl style up-do. There's a fresh aroma of minty toothpaste which follows her around. To judge by her uneven and unsteady limping, she might be wearing high heeled shoes.

Martha enters the sanctuary with as much grace as she can manage, her cane hung over one arm as she clutches a large garland wreath of summer flowers.

Ceremonies require gifts to be offered too.

Smiling, she dipped an uneven, but sincere, curtsy of respect to the sacred space and those within it's precincts.

"Good evening." she offered sweetly and humbly to all present.

[Catherine Keyes]

The Bard, nay, the Skald swept into the temple after the Kassidy. Her skirt was the long White 25-yard skirt she wore at the Execution, the lowest ruffle an Indigo dye. The bedazzled bra she wore boasted the wings of moths and feathers in addition to rounded silver studs and pearls.

Important situations always merited the color of the dead.

In a small silken pouch tied in the white hipscarf she wore was a bone barely four inches long. It wasn’t “small” but then the raccoon she had removed it from wasn’t either.

She still felt queazy from it all, but this was a support for Kassidy, not some sort of ritual dive for herself.

And then of course there was fire.

There was always fire.

[Dillon Connery]

Was supposed to enter with Martha, but @Chrisie jumped the gun on me

Having delayed his entrance long enough to park his car, Dillon slips in behind the others, settling near the tiny Herald. There is a look of general curiosity on his face in addition to the usual friendly mirth, but he tries to tone both down in favor of the atmosphere.

This is odd. But it will be for others only if he makes it so. After all, he reassures himself, Acolytes attended Midnight Mass regularly enough back in Chicago. But realistically, that might have merely been a show of deference to the First and Second Estates, which control much of the Domain's heirarchy.

Dillon, however, respects Swift. And he respects the man's right to find Purpose wherever he feels he belongs. Thus, the soon-to-be Bishop of the Lancea et Sanctum attends the midsummer event hosted by the Circle of the Crone. The hellish nightmare of a Beast within him gives him an inappropriate and incorrect introduction of anger, hate, and the desire to thresh those it can sense before it into submission.

He had momentarily entertained the the thought of a clerical collar with his black suit. Not seriously, but as a passing fancy, just to see who would feel awkward because of it. Instead, however, he had applied a regular tie of equally mournful black. True, it isn't a far cry from his usual attire, but given the particular event, appropriate.

As he understands it, this season of the year is a time where those that follow the Crone lament the oppression of the daystar that all Kindred must hide from. Swift had seemed to confirm this in his communication that this was to be a solemn event.

Rather than verbally greet anyone, he simply nods and smiles to those who look his way, to avoid overlapping with any of the other hellos.

[Swift]

Dr. Swift's initial smiles had largely been a reflexive gesture to cover for the rumblings of his unquiet beast. As more guests begin to arrive he allows his expression to slip back into the more somber mood he intends for the evening. He unclasps his hands from where they rested just over his abdomen and gestures outward with his left hand as they arrive, welcoming them to the Temple.

He nods as Kassidy arrives next, "Welcome, Kassidy, I am pleased you could make it." And he was. Swift had hoped the young man would be here, but he wasn't certain yet if he wished to be a part of their Circle. He didn't use a title or last name largely because he was still uncertain which the other Kindred preferred, but it felt odd still to his ingrained sensibility.

As more guests arrive he nods to each, welcoming them as well and gesturing with his right hand to complete the open arms symbolism. "Herald Villiers, Reeve Connery. Thank you for coming this evening. Please be welcome among us." He also nods in greeting as Ms. Keyes makes her way in, though he suppresses a curious expression at her choice of dress but doesn't say anything about it. The Circle was a diverse place and did not have any reason to judge choices in appearance, so long as they were not intentionally inflammatory. Wings may have been a bit eccentric, and maybe a touch naive to the purposes of the Crone, but at least it wasn't an Inquisitors robe and mask. "Ms. Keyes. Welcome and thank you for coming as well."

He glances at the door wondering if this will be all who attend tonight or if more will be arriving shortly. It was nearly time to begin. He hoped to see another face or two, but if this was all who turned out it was still a showing that pleased him. Having the Herald and Reeve here as obvious guests also pleased him immensely. He knew the Herald had an avid interest in their worship and part of him wondered if perhaps it would be possible to lure her to their cause, but he doubted that she would lightly abandon her studies with the Dragon. While he knew she was rarely seen in public without Dillon as her guardian, the Reeve's presence still surprised him. He hid the grin it brought. While he was certain his Priscus' faith was unshakable and he respected the man's choice of faith, it was a sign of solidarity he had hardly hoped for. See, Raluca, tolerance is a possibility.

He glances at the gathering briefly, maintaining a quiet demeanor. "We will begin shortly, let us wait just a bit longer to see if all have arrived."