Midsummer's Yield

[Forn Clakes]

Lucas Gregory

The seasons have turned once more, again without the fanfare of years past, an unnecessary and often garish reminder to the True Fae of the oaths that confuse Them, holding Them at bay.

But barely. The loud, brash Freehold fell. In the ashes have come the survivors and they have been forced to change their ways. The old ways cost too much. A year has come and gone since the complete and utter destruction of the Four Seasons, since the near decimation of the Summer Court. Lucas Gregory now held the honour of being the king to reignite the spark within the Iron Spear, and by reflection, the Freehold as a whole.

By extension, it was just and it was right, his place now, and he would learn from the mistakes of the past. The Summer Sovereign would not be the volcanic eruption of Wrath like many of his predecessors. Instead, he would be the coming thunder, the spark that pulses and nurtures, guiding and inspiring, for when they are needed, the pyre would be ready.

Today was the beginning of the glory and with a final prayer, opening his precious bible, Lucas read aloud a few lines to ready his mind and prepare for the coming event. For the first time in his memory, the Midsummer's Yield had been opened to all and not simply those of the Iron Spear, the first step in this bright new day. Wearing a simply black suit of mourning, a simple golden cross around his neck, Lucas snapped closed his instrument of divinity and pulled open the doors to the Forge, smiling as he was bathed in the morning light.

A fortuitous sign.

Clutching his bible close, Lucas waited to welcome the Freehold to the Midsummer Yield. The Forge had been transformed slightly, with many chairs laid out to match the pews of a church, each facing a wrought iron lectern that depicted the glory of the sun upon its surface, staring at the congregation. Dotted around were tall candle-holders, also iron in their construction, each gripping a fat, yellow candle that would burn throughout the day until the end of the ceremony.

Lucas would have to thank Marcus for their quality workmanship.

Waiting patiently, the King of Summer stood, brimming with anticipation and quietly eager to welcome all, his Mantle a simmering heat that constantly tests the senses. His eyes are glowing pinpricks upon a darkened face and as he welcomes each to the service, his pale hands seem to shift just under the flesh.

-1 Glamour

Please narrate your entry into the Forge, either mingling in conversation or taking a seat

[Coco]

It was a day of remembrance, a day of morning, and most importantly, a day of celebration! The despair and eclipsing depression of loss weren't trivial emotions, but if left to their own devices they poisoned the memory of that which was lost. Did the departed want those they left behind to weep an endless rain of tears every time they searched their memory for times now past? Of course not! They wanted those still living to find joy and comfort and meaning (and many other things) when they thought of their time with the departed! Well, perhaps not all of the departed, take Cosima's grandmother for instance, but that was the sort of exception that everyone should ignore. Time spent mourning the dead was, after a point, a waste of life! Time celebrating the dead? Now that was always worth something, so when Cosima Tascioni pranced into the forge, a smile was on her face.

True, she didn't know the dead and departed of the Sacramento Freehold, but that wouldn't stop her from helping everyone else celebrate their memory. It was important not to ruffle any collars, however, so she dressed for occasion, foregoing color in favor of universal funeral black, but she didn't abandon her sense of style. Style would never leave her until her own funeral clothes had moldered off of her motionless, rotting body! Perhaps not even then. Who knew what awaited them in the afterlife? Well, likely the King of Summer thought he did, given his fondness for religious things, but that was beside the point.

Really, there was no point, yet. Aaahh. If only there was someone to talk to. Perhaps she should have arrived fashionably late? Well, it was too late now, she was already one of the first courtiers to arrive. Killing time until other Lost appeared, she idly stood by the door, trying to look security conscious like a proper Claviger should.

Clothing! Just the clothes

[Lesingnon]

There were many reasons Rick had decided to attend. The simplest among them being that he'd always been a friend of Summer. Or perhaps it was that he'd known several members of the Iron Spear from Sacramento that had fallen over the years. His own possible brush with death certainly lended an occasion such as this additional weight as well. And he couldn't deny that he was a bit curious to see Father Lucas now. The Summer King was undoubtedly very different from the reclusive Autumn Courtier he'd met all those years ago.

But more than any of that, there was guilt. Spartan, Rook, Anya...all high-profile Summers he'd known that had died when the Four Seasons was brought down. A disaster that had occurred while he'd been away. That still ate at him, despite Marcus's reassurances. He still couldn't help but wonder how things might have played out if he'd been there, as he should have been. If he could have made any difference.

So how could he skip an event that would honor those who had fallen there?

His suit is black and simple, fitted to his lean form. Feather-shaped cufflinks gather the plain white shirt around his wrists, and the rose-gold band he still insisted on wearing sat on the ring finger of his left hand. It was one of two splashes of color he'd allowed himself with his choice of dress. The other being the tie. Its deep color reminiscent perhaps of dried blood, or perhaps an autumn leaf, maybe iron heated until it was red-hot. In any case he'd considered the color appropriate for him, at this place, for this event.

Even his mantle seems solemn as he approaches, its winds heavy and subdued. And there were two changelings present One he didn't know, but recognized in passing from Spring's get-together a few months past. The other a face he hadn't seen in years. But the mantle that matched his own in power and intensity left little doubt as to the Summer King's identity.

The woman is offered a nod of greeting, and the Sovereign's welcome is returned. Though his first words are for Coco, "I don't believe we've ever been introduced, I'm Rick Pereg." Then he turned slightly towards the commanding presence of Summer's King. "Brother Lucas," he somehow he couldn't help but suspect that the man would still prefer his older title to that of King, "it's been a long time, hasn't it?" With much changing for each of them in the meanwhile, it seemed.

[Forn Clakes]

Lucas Gregory

When the first Commoner arrived, Lucas smiled openly, welcoming Coco in with a gesturing arm. "Please, there is little need for your duties today," Lucas said to Coco, holding his bible in his spare hand as he offers a handshake. "Brother Lucas, a pleasure to meet you."

When Rick arrives, Lucas hid his surprise with his smile, holding out a hand to the former Dread Lord. "Mr. Pereg, I must say I was not expecting to see you again. Rumours of your death obviously proved false, I am pleased to see." The pinpricks of eyes stare at Rick perhaps out of suspicion. A natural reaction to this situation.

Finally, Lucas turns to Tessa, offering the same handshake he had to both Coco and Rick. "I am Brother Lucas Gregory, and you certainly are in the right place. Please, come in and get comfortable."

[Coco]

Aha! Here were the people! And the Summer King even came down to greet her. Impossible as it was, the wasps smile grew, and her antennae gave a little bounce as she was greeted. She gave a sweeping curtsy to the Summer King and then rose and took his hand in a fast, vibrant shake.

"Cosima Tascioni, Claviger of Spring, though as you've mentioned my duties you must already know, I'm sure. But I'm very glad to meet you! Call me Coco, if you please," she said releasing his hand. "And I gladly retire my duties if that is what you wish. Would you like me to give over my instrument of office as well?" She tilted her cane to the side, displaying it for the King's examination and then turned her attention to the others introducing themselves.

"Rick, good to meet you! I'm Cosima Tascioni. Or Coco, if you please. I must say, I was quite jealous of all the hugs you were getting at the Orgy," she said with a wink, before turning to the other woman present.

"Tessa! Coco!" She exclaimed, taking the ferrets hand in her own in another rapid, vibrant shake.

[Malcolm Green]

The Archer of the Lonely March appeared, his huge frame completely filling the doorway. He almost ducked out just as quickly as his eyes adjusted to the look and feel of the place. His eyes narrowed. A sigh broke through the barrier of his lips. With one heavy footfall, and then another, Malcolm Green made his entrance.

His eyes were guarded. He tried not to loom. Being a giant of such height and frame did not help.

Green made an attempt to squeeze around the little group that surrounded Brother Lucas, sending them a brief nod of greeting as he did so.

What? We a religious group now? He grumbled inwardly. Outwardly, he kept his mouth shut.

[Lesingnon]

"Well I'm glad to still be around to put them to rest, believe me." Rick accepts Lucas's hand with a firm shake, though not overly so. He certainly wasn't one of the overly macho jerks who felt as though he could impress people by crushing their hands. A handshake that stutters to a stop at Coco's choice of words. She simply had to have chosen the most incriminating way to to phrase that.

Springers.

He opts to respond with a simple shrug. "Well, they were old friends I hadn't seen in a while." A very long while. "And they'd heard the same rumors as Brother Lucas, so...they were pretty happy to see me." He was half-tempted to mention that that was it. But that would be demonstrating remarkably thin skin. Especially since she just seemed to be naturally vivacious. So he let that comment pass.

There's a slight turn of his head as he notes the additional arrivals. One that he'd met at the Symposium, the other unknown to him. Regardless, it seemed that they'd met before. And that the woman was mention something he didn't really know anything about. So he opted not to intrude on the conversation.

[Malcolm Green]

Green stared down at Tessa with an uncomprehending look, stopped mid-movement by the enthusiastic ferret. Lack of comprehension dawned into confusion, and the big Elemental ended up patting the Beast as gently, and in the most friendly-like manner he could manage.

"Uh. Yeah. All is good then, eh? Um. Yeah. Glad to know the blanket worked out. Hedgespun, right? Probably made from a good nights rest, yeah?" He paused, staring down, heavy hand placed lightly on Tessa's shoulder. "Glad you got a roof over your head. Uh. Can I sit down?" He jerked his head in the general direction of the chairs. "Kinda been walking far."

He made sure he shut his jaw at that point. Too easy to move into uncharted - private - waters. The human element to the Mountain wondered what those favours entailed for the little Beast. The rock and stone core of Malcolm Green, wreathed in its wintry mantle, simply didn't care. It was not his concern right now and that was fine by him. To say that the Elemental was conflicted was just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak...

To change the conversation, Green turned his head to the others who stood with Brother Lucas. "Hey," he offered, "Seen you around before but I don't think we've actually met, yeah? Call me Green."