(2409) Coronation at Edna's

[Kray]

The night of the Autumn Equinox would find Edna’s not lit by lamps or electric lights but by fire. A bonfire controlled, out behind the old boarding house casting all into flickering light and deep shadow. A myriad of tables have been set up around this fire along with chairs taken from the kitchen. Adding to the light upon each surface several bottles, each holds a candle the points of fitful light sway and gutter a little in the breeze. The glow from the otherwise darkened windows and open door suggests more such bottles light the kitchen itself for those who wish to venture inside.
Both outside and in every surface is stacked high with books. Hundreds and hundreds of books. Ratty, slightly bent, often yellowed books. Many still have stickers stating things like 3 for $1 or 50 cents each. And The Ogre must have cleared the stacks of half the charity shops in the city to acquire the vast multitudes covering any and every subject, genre, both fiction and non on near every topic of common reading that could be thought of.

Of course, food. Food would never have been forgotten by the great glutton and yet more tables closer to the fire hold jacket potatoes in tinfoil ready to be placed among the flames and burning timbers, a generous choice of filling are provided for when they are suitably baked should the concept of plain potato not be sufficiently appealing. For those with sweeter teeth the necessary ingredients for making smores await them on a last table next to the potatoes and filings.

The giant himself currently resides within from which warm scents of cooking and spices emit, amidst the candle light and stacks of books he tends to pots and pans on the hobs of the oven. A large pot of ground beef stew on one side, bowls and dipping bread are lined up to one nearby, resting on the stack of books. And the second occupant mulled apple cider just keeping warm on the heat.

Kray himself has come as he is, but dressed in some of his nicer clothes. He does understand what tonight is. Black leather shined shoes, recently dry-cleaned trousers in a white shirt and suspenders all however under his curtain like long coat and atop his head the fedora of autumn leaves and sackcloth scarecrows with the holes made for his horn nubbins.

Saber Sloth

[Saber Sloth]

Of to the side, but not out of the way enough to be ignored is the table holding the thrumming Wyrdstone, still humming an echo of Queen Circe's heart, waiting for the rhythm to change...

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

After Kray 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.

[Vincent Black]

Vincent walks in wearing what could only be described as Fall weather attire and looks around. It looks like he is early to the show. And there he is Kray, the new upcoming Autumn King. After their last interaction he was not sure of where they stood. Either way Vincent decides to go give him a handshake and congratulate him on his new role as King.

Vincent walks up and offers a congratulatory handshake, "Congratulations on the title, my friend. I look forward to seeing how you rule the courts."

[Kray]

Busy minding the stove it isn't until the hunterheart speaks that the giant registers his presence. Turning with soup ladle in hand to see his first guest of the evening. "Ah. Hey there Vincent. How you been?" Bulbous yellows eyes track down the beast who wore his wild looks well, to the offered hand. Well that's unexpected. He had not known what to expected but it was not this for some reason. "Uh. Thanks." And he will take the handshake, his grip is not crushing, he exercises enough control to not do that, but the delicacy he had once displayed is no longer apparent and the giant's great strength is notably closer to the surface so to speak. "Hm. Not something I ever planned for, and not the way I would have wanted it to come about." No he would much prefer Anatole still be here but the harvest king had his own wrongs to right and the Ogre accepted, and respected that.

As for the crown to come, and the welcoming of his season. "Uh. I'm gonna give the rest a little longer to show up. Then I'll do what needs to be done with the Wyrdstone and explain what I have for us all tonight." Anyone could probably guess the many hundreds of books stacked inside and out, would almost certainty be involved. "Hm. In the meantime." And he will start fussing about with crockery, bowls, and the like until Vincent has a tray with a hearty bowl of thick beef ad vegetable soup several slices of bread and a large cup of warm mulled apple cider. Alongside two empty plates. "Ah. There you go, potatoes and smores are out by the fire." The purpose of the two empty plates on the tray becoming hopefully apparent, for those foods that it would seem Vincent would have to make himself.

[Svelte Sven]

Finally Sven's typical formalwear was perfectly suited to the occasion. The Whisperwisp's smile was a bit wider than usual as he took in the festive atmosphere of Edna's. Seeing that Kray was currently engaged with an unknown Changeling, Sven contented himself by inspecting some of the old books until there was an appropriate lull in the conversation.

"I'm quite dazzled by the decorations." He said as he approached the Ogre. "I had honestly expected something a bit more morbid from the Court of Fear, but this is quite welcoming. This should make for an impressive coronation." Sven's tone seemed genuine, practically leaking excitement despite it being at odds with his default demeanor.

"And a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He extended a hand towards Vincent in greeting. His smile faltered for a second as he got a better look at the Hunterheart, but only for a second. "I am Svelte Sven, recently arrived Winter courtier."

[Seraphina]

Was this truly the second Coronation without him? The second Autumn where she would have to find the perfect mask to wear, the perfect dress to adorn herself with and play the perfect Spring Monarch. Despite what others said, it never got easier as the days turned into weeks which turned into months and then into years.

But here she was, yet again, silently putting a Hedgespun dress together in her private Hallow. No humming or singing as she used to, just simply sewing seams, making sure measurements were correct and everything was, well, perfect. Because that was what was expected of the Nix, perfection. So that is what she would present.

Finally, the finishing touch, a keepsake box was opened and the primary color that would illuminate the dress was color matched to the item that rested inside. Only a few, a very small amount would know that color, but she would never forget it. It was the color of a fire that burned deep within her heart and kept her going, it gave her strength, reminded her of who she was, his words speaking just as clearly in her mind as the first day the met.

Stepping back, she admired her work, the dress was finished. It had taken a bit longer than she had wanted, but, in the end, she was happy with the look. The splatter effect had taken some finessing, but, she did it.

As she crossed the threshold into Edna’s, the Glamour spilled into the dress, bringing it to life, the soft pulse of colors beating to their own drum, gentle and steady. But clearly Hedgespun and very finely done. Her long hair was done in a very intricate braid down her back and brushing the floor. The silver and green merged perfectly together. The Treasured wore no makeup on her face, nor did she wear a mask to hide the imperfections brought on by her Entitlement. Pointed ears with iridescent webbing were not hidden either, her full Wyrd was on display this evening. Yet tucked behind one ear was a red flower.

Confidently she walked, to those gathered, “Good evening gentlemen, I hope everyone is well.” Greets the angelic voice, a warm smile on her golden, gilded face, before aquamarine eyes turn to Kray, “Seems congratulations are in order.”

[Circe]

Autumn. The time of waning of the power of Summer, as obvious by the cracked crown atop Circe's head, hair tied up in a messy bun making the crown skewered. Autumn is when the cold begins. Which would make Circe's choice of Hedgspun attire made from literally her forge's fire seem foolishy lacking for the eve. The hooded cloak she wore over it might be an answer. But it was not for one factor: Circe is a Queen of Summer.

1 suxx to toasty warm

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2024-09-26 21:42:43	Circe rolls 6 to Son of the Hearth (10 Again)	1, 5, 4, 7, 9, 7	1 success

It need not be a problem for Circe, who has the cloak open, with visible thigh holsters on each leg: one for a dagger, the other for a small pistol. She may be losing the crown, but is still the Groundskeeper. Circe enters without a care for the cold, following behind Seraphina. She doffs the cloak, finding a chair to leave it upon. "Knew I'd not be best dressed or most dapper headed," she waves her hand toward the cracking crown of Summer. Then Circe will approach Kray, coming up beside Seraphina. "Hail and well met Kray? You have collected quite the library for this eve my friend. Impressive harvest of knowledge you have gained."

[Sonnie Wu]

Sonnie Wu arrived, never one to miss a party. Autumn was not just about Halloween, of course (it was also about Thanksgiving!) but she didn't pass up the opportunity to wear a dress themed for the holiday. A black sundress decorated with orange Jack-o'-Lanterns, her hair worn up in a bun.

"Hello, hello, hello! Happy Pumpkin Spice Latte Season, everyone! Wow, this place looks great! Reminds me of the Book Fairs we had at my middle school!" The Steepscrambler smiled at everyone assembled. The smile faded into confusion as she spotted Kray, with the Autumn Crown.

"Uh... what? Where's Anatole?" The Beast scanned about for the Burnt Dwarf, and failed to locate him, as he was, obviously, not present. "Did I miss something?"

After a moment, it dawned on her to say something to the new Ashen King. "Oh, um, congrats?" She sounded uncertain if this was a happy change.

[Withers]

A slight chill accompanied, the small, frail frame of an unobtrusive Darkling upon his arrival.

Withers had arrived, somewhat late, but dressed well enough for the occasion. He wore a tweed suit, polished brown leather shoes, and a tweed flat cap. As usual, his cane was by his side, assisting his movement as he limped through the small assembly of Lost.

Looking upon those who were assembled, he offered small smiles to those he knew, namely Seraphina, Circe, and Sven. However, it was the immense Ogre who drew the majority of his attention.

Eventually, Withers reached the Ashen Brute and looked upon him with his small black eyes, adjusting his spectacles as his bushy eyebrows perked upward. Removing his hat as a sign of respect, the Darkling finally spoke.

"It is good to see you on this day of your season's ascendance," he offered, his voice quiet and weighted with yoke of ages.

[Kray]

With Vincent handed his tray other lost began to filter in arriving one after another. The newest winter courtier gets a raised eyebrow as he is hands Sven his own tray of soup, bread and cider with two empty plates. "Oh. Where you expecting bodies dangling on meat hooks? If so I can check the basement. See if we got any." The terrible toothy grin makes it a little hard to know exactly how serious he is being. "No. There is more to autumn, more to fear, then that." Welcoming hadn't exactly been what he had aimed for but he never claimed to be masterful at hosting so he'll take it. "As I hope to show by the end of the night." Of course all was not revealed yet. "Hm. Head out to the fire if you want potatoes or smores, that where the main event will be soon enough as well." And it helped keep the soup line moving.

The next arrival well she could not be missed, nor should she for all that had passed between them of late she was the sovereign of spring, drawing the eye like a magnet resplendent in the shifting red, it would be a lie to say or think otherwise whatever else. And in true form he does lift a hand to the rim of his hat and tip it to the monarch in a sign of respect. "Uh. Hi Sera. How have you been?" The last they had spoken had been in this kitchen and far from the easiest of conversations. "Uh. Your dress is very nice." Acknowledging both her skill and effort in producing the beautiful hedgespun garment. And she will get the same treatment as Vincent and Sven. A tray with a full bowl of soup fresh from the pot, a large glass of warm apple cider, and several slices of dipping bread passed across. "Uh. Thanks." Manners and all that. "But are they? Is it worth being congratulated for achieving something I never aimed for? I'm doing what needs to be done is all." It was true he had never wanted a crown he had plenty to be getting on with as was, but sometimes that's the way things fell out. And she was making the effort to be cordial he was aware of that. "Hm. But yeah thanks." He nods outside. "Potatoes and smores are make your own by the fire if you want those." It was not a spread like those that had been brought forth for the equinox's and solstices he had been to but, of that the ogre was well aware, but it was what his budget could stretch to, and the ogre would be pushing up daises before he asked for help to fund Autumns affairs from any outside the ashen court.

Next the summer sovereign in what he would questioningly guess is an evening dress. The confusion is his lack of fashion know how, no fault of the exotic beauty who wore whatever it was called perfectly. "Uh. Hey Circe." And she gets a tip of the hat, the sign of the ogres respect for her and her sovereignty of the summer court. "Ah. Yeah well met." Sure good as any other way to say glad to see you. "Ha. I'm not planning on letting any monsters loose tonight." In case the weapons had been motivated by certain Autumn traditions. "Here." And he makes the summer sovereign up the same tray as each arrival before her. Hot soup. warm cider and slices of dipping bread with two empty plates. "Hm. There's make your own out by the fire for potatoes and smores." Reminiscent of traditions and times from a past he usually left well enough alone.

Sonnie can't be missed for all her own reasons, the most energetic by far to come through the doors. And the comment about the mortals drink of the season makes her mischievous presence felt near immediately. "Ah. Hi Sonnie." The currently uncrowned Ogre, that would soon change however, answers her question none the less "Anatole has departed the freehold." Why, was only the business of those the burned dwarf had told and the ogre is not forth coming on any details. But the uncertainty now that was the closet thing to fear any of the lost had showed, and the ashen king should be feared. "Ah. You don't need to say if you don't mean it." No need to with me. Although Sonnie will find for one reason or another her tray of soup, cider and bread has two extra slices of aforementioned bread on her plate. "Hm. I know its not exactly a competitive amount but there's plenty more food outside by the fire." Okay that's getting a little old to repeat.

The last for the moment stepping through is a curiosity of course. So the old winter stuck around. "Ah. Hi ... You know I don't think I ever got your name while you were beating me at Yahtzee." If he had the Ogre had quiet forgotten it. Definitely not what he goes by without mortals around. "But. Yeah good to see you got yourself sorted out." See not being the right word, more feel, the link to the wyrdstone made that clear enough. He will go to give withers the tray of food prepared for each of the lost present. "Uh. Will you be alright with this?" A nod to the cane the old man only had one hand to use for carrying after all. If needed Kray will carry it out for the old lost along with a tray for himself, one in each hand being no trouble for the giant, he really is on best behaviour today.

But with everyone served, and almost everyone here. Japser his fellow giant being the notable absence, time seemed right as any would be to get the main event underway. Approaching the table upon which the wyrdstone sits, for the third time tonight a hand goes up to his but now he removes his hat and places it on a stack of books, giving his great head a shake and setting the lichens dangling a sway in the slight chill breeze. As he reaches forward a great grey hand his mantle of illusionary candle flames flicks into view, rather notably more of them than previously seen. The hand comes down slowly but with a sense of willingness as he feds glamour from himself into the mysterious object.

With the changing of the season his crown manifests. The band made of an intricate weave of jutting finger bones from which rise folded origami flames in shades of orange that move up, down and around as one would expect to see in a shadow puppet play, the paper flames shed no light but the shadows around the great ogre deepen and danse as if they burned bright.

"There." It was done. Turning to the gathered lost a over long arms waves to the assorted tables. "Now. Please eat, drink and take a book or three." For a purpose of course. "These. The stories are the stories of the lost. Not blatantly but we can see ourselves in the pages and ink." And not just in the fairy tales. "We. Each of us has parts of ourselves we would rather not face, things we try not to acknowledge, try to ignore or push away." And he counted himself in that we. "So. I give these books to help us find and face those parts a little less directly, but to take those first steps in facing what we fear in ourselves." This was how he would teach on fear tonight.

Saber Sloth