The Onyx Winter walked slowly over to the logs that lay down like benches by the fire. It was at a decent distance so as not to get any flashes of embers that may spit from the wood. It was also clear of being far too hot at times, unless someone chose to sit at the bench nearest the fire.
Sasha sat down, her leg crossed over the other and she looked cozy with her coffee while she awaiting anyone else to join.
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Presence
Composure
MantleRich comes to the logs with his drink in hand, and makes his way to the Winter Queen. His long strides quickly close the distance, and as he reaches her he offers another bow out of courtesy to her.
”Your Majesty, I wish to apologize for that outburst. It was uncharacteristic, and unruly but unfortunately necessary. I am deeply regretful it had to happen under the banner of your event. If there is a way I can make amends, simply let me know and I will see if this old man can be of service.”
He raised to his full height once his peace was said and motioned to a seat beside her.
“Is this seat being held for anyone?””
He did not want to just simply sit next to the Onyx Queen, that was a great privilege which may belong to a Knight, Triumphant Hero, or simply someone she likes more! He did however want to meet and be in the graces of those in the March.
If she would have his company he would take the seat beside her, if not he would accept the decline with a smile, and move to the seats closest to the fire.
The suited Chatelaine crossed alongside his Queen, his half-eaten bowl of stew still in hand, with decreasing amounts of steam coming off it as heat gave way to Winter's chill. Or, you know, just normal heat loss. He tossed a little log onto the fire, then stoked it with a metal poker. As the flames rose higher, Maxwell let out a quiet sigh of relaxation before turning his attention to seating.
"Mister Price."
The Wizened nodded a greeting to the mighty Summer Courtier, not objecting to his positioning nor moving to intervene. Rather, he simply found his place on the other side of his Queen, sitting down and falling silent to allow her to explain what was to come.
Not wanting to be presumptuous, the knight neither sits too close to the Queen or to the fire, nor does he indulge in his usual flowery greetings. Instead, he offers respectful nods to the three Lost already there and takes a seat somewhere near them, to be able to hear and converse with them freely.
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Striking Looks
Presence
Dexterity
New Identity
Mantle
Dreaming, Cloak of the ElementsSonja moved over with a mug of hot cocoa in her hands, smiling as brightly as she usually did. After a brief glance about the small gathering, the simian Beast took a bench fairly close to the firepit. Not front row, more like second. "Hello! So, what are we doing here, then?"
Transferring her mug to be held by her tail, the Steepscrambler warmed her hands in the generated heat of the flames. She looked curiously at Sasha and Richard, not merely for the conversation, but to marvel at the strength of their respective Mantles. Her own felt fragile in comparison.
Shaking her head to Rich. "No, please, be my guest." The hand that did not hold coffee offered the seat next to her. As the Chatelaine arrived, she nodded as he sat next to her. Pierce and Price, the names were so close to each other that she hoped she wouldn't confuse either.
Sasha had waited for a few more to arrive before she addressed the people attending. "So in the spirit of Winter, and shedding some emotions to usher in the new year, I welcome anyone to share something that may have caused them pain, suffering or deep grief. If you would rather sit and listen, that is okay. Those of you who just came over here at all, I am thankful for that."
The Dancer took a sip of her coffee before she began to speak. "I can start us off. Several years ago we had a problem with a True Fae in Sacramento. His name was Fairweather and he had been meandering in and out of town for quite some time. We had a masquerade, and we were informed by our Sovereign that he had been there, infiltrating us. Getting to know how we ticked and our weaknesses and strengths. He also had never sworn a pledge or oath to anyone to not cause harm to anyone in the Freehold." She said while looking to the fire a moment, and another sip of her coffee before the Fairest continued.
"Not long after I moved out of town for about six months; he attacked the city and the Freehold. The Commons was burned to the ground and around a good portion of it was the giant sinkhole you may have driven by at some point." The Fairest shrugged, it wasn't a well traveled part of the city, which was why it worked well for their commons. "Many of my friends suffered because of this Dragon. My best friend Terri was taken and held prisoner at the flesh market. My friend Spartan was killed attempting to defend against the Dragon. He had at least injured him enough that he retreated temporarily. My friend Rook and a few others also perished at from the wrath of this Dragon and to this day I do know know why other than we were a fruitful Freehold." She paused and looked around to some of the Changeling's gathered, and into the distance to the others who were enjoying their evening. Sasha kept pace with the story, even though she had found difficulty the first few times. Now she realized that this knowledge needed to be passed along, so that no matter what, someone would remember what happened.
"When I returned, I knew that all that remained was the skeleton of the Four Seasons Hotel and a strange tree inside. I had went with some fellow Winters when I returned to investigate the tree. Something dreadful had been inside of it, and I can only presume it was something to do with Fairweather."
"There were several plans to end him. Many of the plans would have lead to more deaths. Yet, a fellow Winter had divided a plan to kill him once and for all. It was a type of poison, that was administered by luring out his greed and vanity."
"Still for me, hardly a day goes by that I don't think of the friends I lost in that tragedy." This time, she looked to those who had gathered, and rose her cup. "But, I have made new friendships, those of which are deep and lasting and I hope we as a Freehold never have to go through that again."
If you are just joining, please feel free to have 'heard' all of what Sasha said.
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Presence
Composure
MantleThe large man took a seat next to the Winter Sovereign, getting as comfortable as a man as big as he could be on a log by a bonfire. He made sure to bow his head in thanks for letting him have this honor.
He listened reverently to the story that Sasha had to tell, and closed his eyes dropping a small prayer under his breath as she mentioned those had been lost and nodding his head to the beats of the story as the courtier painted a tragic image. At the end there was hope however, perseverance. He raised his cup
Rich let her story settle for a moment as he looked around the gathered Lost as well.
”Well...For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Richard Price. I have served the Summer Court of Los Angeles for decades, and have been fortunate enough to grow old. Like Queen Sasha I have lost many friends in the service of protecting others. Some battles were necessary, others were not, and as we move past these events reflection can be the hardest part.”
The Ogre who had been sitting up hunched over for a moment, elbows on his knees and head lowered before bringing his posture back up.
”Being an Iron Spear, we are not ones to back down or wilt in the face of challenge. While in Los Angeles I helped mentor troubled youth and give them a positive role model as well as outlets for energy and usually anger. Gerald Smith Kadwell was one of the boys I helped, small for a fourteen year old and always talked about how he was bullied.”
“Showed him how to stand up straight, use an assertive voice, try to de-escalate - but also how to raise his hands if anyone picked a fight. Somebody wanted his god damned hat one day. From what I hear some words were had, they scuffled a bit, and Gerald was shot twice. Passed before the ambulance arrived.”
“The kid who pulled the trigger was fifteen.”
The large man looked up and raised a hand to brush under his eye, a tear may have a escaped, but he would never admit that.
”That was less than a year ago. Made me look at things in a different way. Realized I knew more names in the cemetery than outside of it, and I got sick of going back again and again. Packed up, and came here to try and settle down. It may be rough around the edges, but I think this is a place I could grow to call home. If you all will have me.”
He was smiling by the end, he would have raised his cup if it wasn’t the focus of his grip and the keystone holding him together. Glancing around he caught a few faces as he shared his own story. He had his turn, he was now willing to lend his ear for any other brave enough to share.
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Presence
Rigid Mask
Summer MantleFawkes stalks from the periphery, apparently unable to stay in one place long enough to sit. A clicking is heard from the hands in his pocket as he listens impassively to each of the nobility, hovering next to Abraham Norton. The dandy's Mantle swirling around his frame with the soft springtide breeze, and the mannequin's laser focus rests on the Onyx Queen.
The valuable history lesson Sera had alluded to earlier on, is punctuated by the whispered mourning that bit at one's throat. The weathered soldier anecdote expected from his martial, becomes grounded in the cold reality beyond the exquisite thorns and brambles. Fawkes is talking before he realizes, monotone swirling out from the placid expression of the wrathful soldier,
"Three years ago."
His gaze no longer tracks anything in particular, "We were the new kids on the block. A pattern popped up over the summer and the Leaden Mirror was tasked with making sure it wasn't our problem. Girl was burned—body in a pond deep in the bush. Lighting. She was writing something in the tree that set off our spidey sense." The mannequin cracks his neck, resuming his pacing,
"We tracked three others lost to the foster system; isolated to a single school from the previous registry. Isolated, outside our Freehold. Decided it was still our problem. They'd started...a game?" Click. Another cigarette was in lit in one smooth motion,
"Some shit with cell phones. They were agreeing to a contract in the form of a digital chain letter, cursing each other until it wasn't fun anymore. Then one of our Own got the message when he tried to involve himself with the catalyst. Just another kid. He dropped faster than the rest of them," the paper blistered as most of it was ash already between his fingers,
"We got the security footage—walking backwards on the tracks for three hours. Camera cut, body flattened to a fucking pancake but coroner indicated he'd suffered." He flicked the butt of the cigarette to the concerned, grinding it as he flashed his teeth,
"It was the hint we needed: there wasn't a stuck pattern. Not the Gentry. We lured him, realized it was the Silent Arrow that used to supply all the newcomers with solid IDs. Motley was devastated; thinking he'd been taken—guy was just sick." Fawkes covers his mouth and a dry, cold chuckle was punctuated with a cough,
"You know the worst part? The school still closed. The students hemorrhaged anyway. Turns out Talus was absolutely correct and was trying to route the Wild Hunt by taking out the proxies. Better dead than taken. Better dead than a Loyalist. Where's the justice in that?" his eyes rapidly clicked to each of them, "What was the right answer?"
Richard Price liked this post
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Striking Looks
Presence
Dexterity
New Identity
Mantle Dreaming, Cloak of the ElementsSonnie listened quietly to the stories of loss told by the others, occasionally sipping from her mug of hot cocoa. She could empathize with their sorrows, which she figured was part of the point of this tear-jerking party game. The Winters are a strange bunch...
After a moment, she realized that several sets of expectant eyes were on her. She had dreaded this part, the Beast had been scrounging her memory for some sort of similar story to tell. Sonja could only sigh and shrug.
"I don't... I can't really recall the details. Something happened. In Arcadia. I mean, I know, pretty much everything there sucked. But this was, like, a specific instance. My memories of that time are really hazy. It was at some point in time in the jungle, and there was another changeling, I think. He was... fat? Maybe another Beast of some type. I can't even remember his name. I get this feeling something bad happened, and he suffered somehow and I just know I feel guilty when I think about it. That's, um, that's all I can come up with."
Sonnie frowned in frustration for a moment, then gave another helpless shrug and attempted a smile.
"Am I the best storyteller or what? Watch out, Abe!"
The Steepscrambler nodded and then guzzled half her mug of cocoa.
Ashes to ashes, each of them remembering the dead in this circle around a fire, trying to cast away Sorrow through letting themselves feel, letting themselves be, and not denying the truth of their reality. Life was hard. Changeling life was harder. With all that threatened them, the sheer number of their kind that disappeared or died was jaw-dropping.
So when Maxwell J. Pierce considered what he mourned, it seemed strange that it would be...
"Mundane. That's what I think about when I remember what happened three months ago. How mundane it was. How everything I've fought through, losing my entire life to Them and coming home, getting it all back and feeling joy once more..."
His hands gripped, tightly.
"What took everything from me was so, so mundane. An old man, who missed a red light and killed my wife in a crosswalk. It could have happened to anybody. It could have killed any of us. Just a car, missing a light. That's all. You'd think after all we go through that the thing that comes and snatches it all away would be some cruel Fae or their slaves. Some trick, or some battle. But sometimes, you make no mistakes. You do it all right, and you still lose."
Tears began to fall, as the Winter spook let it all go, just this once, for just this moment before he would inevitably board it all up again behind his mask of propriety.
"I came here because her family lives here, and I haven't been able to go and just... show up and talk to them. It's like it's blocked, behind a wall of bricks that I can't break through yet. I want to. But every time I try, it's like I seize up inside and I just can't. I just can't. That's why I'm here."
For some, the trauma was old, a distant memory or a thing they couldn't recall. But for Maxwell J. Pierce, it was fresh.
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