2020-05-14 A Dramatic Reveal at Open Court
A Dramatic Reveal at Open Court
Participants: Isabeau, Diana, Winston, Icarus, Ran, Cathbadh, Mattrim, Bastian, Maeve, Elijah, Vivienne
Storyteller: Phantasmavore
Location: Audience Chamber of the Xenuhemach Stronghold
Date and Time: May 14th, 5:30 pm
Summary: Count Grayle and Countess Nysia hold an Open Court with special guest, Duchess Dulcinea. The Duchess reveals a quartet of unexpected allies: four Thallain who she announces are to be granted amnesty on account of their saving her life. There is some pushback from a Scathach knight, but the Duchess holds her ground. The Count and Countess confirm they will hold to the Duchess' decree, though neither seems particularly happy about it until Dame Anima Trix reveals that they have aided her as well. This seems to go a ways in the Count's estimation, however there is little doubt that there will be far reaching repercussions due to this wholly unorthodox move.
The Audience Chamber - Xenuhemach Stronghold - County of the Shattered Scale - Hollywood
--Dreaming Desc--
The Audience Chamber of the Xenuhemach freehold exists within a truly massive globe of water, suspended in the central ring of three concentric stone circles, rising from the valley floor, some six hundred feet below. Floating at the base of the globe is an island, roughly a hundred square yards in size. The inner walls of the sphere are cold to the touch -- not banal cold, simply chilled, though the cool temperature does not seem to impede the life found within the waters. Fantastical fish in a myriad of colors swim in bright schools, while more ominious and overtly predatory creatures lurk at the depths, rushing upwards to strike from ambush when they feed. The island is lush with vegetation, thick, soft grasses and bold wildflowers spread across the ground, seamlessly growing between flagstones of that honey and opal colored stone. Ringing the island are a wealth of mossy tree stumps of varying height, never fully *trees* but they lend a pleasing green to contrast the water. Small pools dot the field here and there, fed by small waterfalls that cascade down the walls, occasionally home to a cluster of bright fish or a predatory, shark-like creature. Against the far wall of the island there is a raised dais with a moss covered throne of silvered oak that grows from the floor, the arm rests carved into the shape of snarling lions; beside it a second throne, a crystaline creation with flowers caught in perpetual bloom within it. To one side is the skull of Zysyss, the undead dragon slain by the count. Resting on the skull's brow, the charred remnants of Countess Morrigaine's crown, flanked by remembrance candles. There are several exits from this place, not just the nest where a second pair of those winged lions made of silver rest, but a staircase leading down to a glowing, elevator-like door set in the stone of the ring below. Through the domed ceiling, an Eyrie can be seen above, reachable via those flying Lions, or possibly some other, hidden route that is not immediately obvious.
---------------------------------- Players ---------------------------------- Diana 1m Short-stack honey, with green hair and a foul mouth Dulcinea 1m Isabeau 2m Beautiful, tall, tattooed. Winston 2m Disheveled ne'er-do-well with a sharp smile. Bastian 5m 6'2", dark hair, blue eyes, a bit scruffy-lookin'. Vivienne 55s Wispy, stunning brunette with light blue eyes. Maeve 31m Oil slick dyed hair; green eyes. Elijah 0s 6'4", long dark hair, blue eyes, muscles. App. 6 --------------------------------- Locations --------------------------------- The Eyrie <TE> Hanging Gardens <HG> Lower Level <LL> *Inner Sanctum <IS> =============================================================================
The Freehold of Xenuhemach has been done up in full regalia. Guards are posted at regular intervals, though their weapons are peacebound. Swirling amber and ocean blue light filters through the water walls casting rippling colored light throughout the Audience Chamber. The Count and Countess are sitting on their respective thrones, beside them the massive skull of the dragon Xysyss.
Upon entering the chamber, there is a frisson of glamour, as the Protocol cantrip settles in. Once the time is correct, Grayle rises from his throne and holds a hand out to Nysia to assist her to her feet so that together, they can address those gathered.
Welcome to the Stronghold of Xenuhemach. With these words, our Open Court is now in session. Tonight we will be offering formal welcome to those new to the area, we will be hearing petitions, answering querries and..." He glances to the Duchess perched in the back, smiling sweetly and waving, surrounded as she is by cloaked figures. Guards, perhaps? "Our Duchess has requested an opportunity to address the court." He looks to Nysia to see if she has anything to add before the introductions begin.
Dulcinea lifts her hand and nods, smiling to anyone who looks her way. The Duchess is comfortably esconced on a cushy seat and she is, in fact, surrounded by 4 cloaked figures. Who could it be?
Bastian stands at the back of the gathering, perhaps greeting those that wish it quietly before they get settled and the Court begins. Once it does, though, Bastian remains still and quiet, watching the goings on.
Maeve is also standing at the back this time, hands clasped behind her and only rocking back and forth on her heels in a fidgety manner a -little- instead of a lot. She's got an eye on just about everyone who walks in though, mentally cataloguing.
Cathbadh has shown up to Court with a Greatsword on his back and, though it is peacebound, thus ardorned the Troll looks even more fearsome and terrific than usual. Terrific, of course, in the archaic sense. Cantrips lay light upon Cathbadh, in lieu of what happened the last time he was in Court, and he surveys the room for potential threats. He profers the Countess a bow from the waist with an accompanied bow of the head, chin to chest "Mo Thiarna, Nysia," and bow ever so slightly less deep with a finger's width between chin and chest to Count Grayle "A Thiarna Grayle." The forms of Court adhered to, he stands to one side, back to a wall and watches the crowd. If there are to be more attacks on the Caer; tonight, as busy as it is, is the perfect time. And this time, the Troll will be ready.
When Grayle is offering his hand to her, the Countess is sliding her own into his grasp before she rises in a smooth motion to stand at Grayle's aside. "Welcome to the Stronghold of the Xenuhemach," she says, her voice far softer than Grayle's and so therefore it might be dampened, but sure enough in that eerie way that sidhe have, the words carry forth in greeting in unison. Now, after that initial greeting, she speaks not a single word more and instead allows for the male sidhe to instead finish the introduction. She punctuates the statement with a dip of her head, a near regal thing, and lifts her head to settle her focus on the Duchess. It is here, with this acknowledgement of their guest, that she dips into a picturesque curtsy. "I think, as we are graced with her presence, we should allow the Duchess Dulcinea her welcome and her words." She casts a smile there to Dulcinea, drawing back a half step in favor of allowing the woman her time to come up. Though she has placed herself in such a position, she still responds to those that greet her in a former manner. Note the deep dip of her head and slight curtsy to Cathbadh with that fine greeting. The smile that she offers him is a soft thing, touched with - of all things - a hint of gratitude.
Does anyone bother noticing that one of these fine Fae-Friends was wearing a cloak made of checkered black and grey flannel? Maybe? Probably. Icarus is a heap of fur, with horns beneath flannel and whats probably wings beneath flannel. He just doesn't look comfortable beneath the tent-sized cloak.
As Ran enters court a rippling glimmer passes through the human skin of their Hotei form, taking on the truer shape their Wani. Human skin was replaced with an eel-hide of seafoam green. With eyes shifting black and gold to black again, the foreigner regards the proceedings from behind a popped red fan. Painted lips press into a pout when the announcement was made that this was to be an almost social occasion.
There is a flair to the way the Duchess stands up. How is that even a thing? Sidhe. Love 'em or hate 'em, they know how to be in the spotlight and keep it on themselves. Once she has reached the dais, she smiles to Nysia and says, "What a lovely introduction and offer, dear Countess." She turns to face the Court as a whole and she puts on a very solemn face. "I come bearing mixed news. An attempt has recently been made on my life." She pauses, anticipating the various gasps and outrage to pass before continuing on, "Clearly the attack failed and those responsible have been dealt with. I owe my life to a quartet of... unlikely allies." She pauses again, looking around the room, and then specifically to Grayle and Nysia, holding there before going back to addressing the room as a whole. "For those who have not met me, I hold tightly to all Seelie ideals. One of those oft overlooked by others, is: Never forget a debt. In that spirit, I would see those that protected my life, granted protection for theirs." She gestures to the quartet in the back, motioning them forward.
"Reveal yourselves, my champions and be granted amnesty for your good deed. I present to the Court of the Shattered Scale, my heroes. May they walk in peace among you, to be treated as Kithain within these lands."
Bastian's gaze moves over some of the more unusal folk gathered--most especially the large flannel draped one, and the brilliantly colored Hsien. He's careful not to let his eyes linger overlong, averting out of politeness perhaps. And when the duchess approaches the dais, even from the back of the room the kinain's eyes are most definitely averted, though from the way his posture shifts, he's definitely listening.
No doubt, Winston meant to fling his cloak off in a dramatic fashion. However, some fold of it gets caught on the edge of one of his wings, and he ends up struggling with it for a good while longer than can be considered 'dynamic'. When he finally has finished pooling the infernal garment off of himself, he bunches it up into a ball and throws it on the ground in frustration. He then coughs, "Ahem..." He is perhaps, one of the less shocking revelations out of the four, at first glance. To most people, he just looks like a bat pooka with disheveled clothes that looks suspiciously like he's nursing a hangover. He waves casually to Elijah, Vivienne, and Maeve as a mischievous grin suddenly spills across his face like a spreading oil fire.
Mattrim slips into the gathering, his clothes a mismatch of styles from the staff and attendants that he passed on the way. He hears the announcement and stays quiet and out of the way, heading to stand over near Bastian, giving him a smile as he approaches. Hopefully he isn't too late to see whats going on at court.
One of the cloaked figures is incredibly tiny; bundled up in a emerald cloak that is probably twice their size. They would need a wooden stool or three, to match the height of their compatriots. Reaching down and picking up the hem of the fancy cloak, the shawty, carefully ambled to the gestured spot. Looking to her comrades, Gadget waited for the grand unveiling. "Now?", she asks while standing on her heels, "I can't see anything!", throwing back her hood. A pointed tooth smile, "Much better...", Diana whispered. The Goblin peering around, "H*ly fudgeballs.", staring at the dragon skull. "$&@^#! It's a dragon...face."
If looks could kill, each of the Thallain would perish instantly and Cathbadh would be guilty of breach of Escheat. However, his Oaths bind him firm and he would commit no violence in the sanctity of a Freehold. He breaths in deeply, closes his eyes and relaxes the taut muscles in his face before addressing the Duchess.
"With all respect that is your right, Your Emminance, Thallain are an affront to the Silver Path. I don't know what fel magic allows them to remain on it, rather than merely travel from point to point as the Tuatha themselves dictated when they wrought the Silver Ban; but no Noble, however highly they are are positioned, has the remit to overrule the Tuatha D? d'Anann on the matter of the Silver Ban. It is, again with all due respect, not within your remit to name them Kithain. The Dreaming overrules you on that as any Cantrip proves. As a matter of Dreaming Law, you can no more name them Kithain than you can name a member of the Shifter Courts or the Willworkers Kithain."
He looks to each of the Thallain, committing their faces to memory. "Know this, Fomorspawn, the Duchess' edicts bind me in this place as sure as any Oath given. Here and now, but nowhere else. If I see any of you on any part of the Silver Path beyond the Trods that lead to this place, or if you follow the Trod that leads to my Forge; you will find your death quick and painless. That is the only reward your 'service' will earn you in my eyes. House Scathach remember you well and we do not forgive."
Nysia's naturally smiling to the Duchess, but it is a gesture that turns serious soon enough not only to the news of the attempt at her liege's life, but to that which is revealed with her decree. The Countess observes the Thallian, her eyes narrowing substantially and a tight tension winding its way around her shoulders. For those that are actually watching her - the perceptive amongst the crowd - it should be noted that she masterfully slides to a much more controlled look thereafter. A pleasant noble neutral with only the faintest hints of welcome purposefully cast in her smile. Her hand which is still linked with Grayle's tightens slightly, a pulse or three, and remains so very much held in his.
Maeve is conversing quietly with Bastian before the Duchess speaks, and her eyes appear to pop open at what the woman reveals. A tiny scowl appears on her ever expressive face at that, and her eyes narrow slightly in curiosity as fae reveal themselves. And okay, she sure is surprised when the bat pooka reveals himself. "Well, /that/ sure explains a lot." It's not loud, but she doesn't exactly whisper either. Winston and Diana both get a nod from her; one of recognition as her gaze slides back up to the dais to watch Gray and Nysia intently.
Bastian straightens a bit, frowning ever so slightly. His gaze lingers on Cathbadh, but he doesn't speak--except to near-whisper something gently to Mattrim, and then Maeve. He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them, his expression is once again calm, even if his mouth is turned ever so slightly down in one corner.
Icarus has to tangle with his hood at getting it removed, caught upon horns as he tries to pull it back. Then to shake his head from side to side with gruff chuffed noises before managing to free himself its draping. Only to start to shrug off the cloak from his shoulders as well as wings extend enough to push the flannel to cascade narrowly along his spine. Feathers against feathers rustle for a few moments before his wings curl back in comfortably. A chuff, then another chuff at someone's words out in the crowd before he is leaning sideways and down towards the Little Green Goblin. "I thought they'd be friendlier."
Look at the expression on the Count's face! He briefly appears floored, sending a clear 'WTF' look to Nysia. It is gone in an instant however, and he clears his throat, looking lingeringly at Winston and Diana longest of all. With a final glance back to Dulcinea, there is the barest hint of resignation as he squares his shoulders and lifts his chin. He clears his throat and is about to speak when Cathbadh makes his pronouncement. Instead of speaking he merely bows to the Duchess in deference and lets her handle Cathbadh's words.
Ran turns to observe the announcement . One by one the mysterious quartet shed their garments. Hiding their expression behind their fan each of them were studied curiously. This only stops when the Troll speaks up. Ran turns to regard his speech, and then looks almost immediately back to the Sidhe Duchess.
Isabeau looks from one to the other as sounds are made, people speak and then Cathbadh gets on the soap box. There's a soft smile on her face, nothing said seems to ruffle her in particular though she does laugh lightly and look towards Icarus. "That tends to be the rumor." She looks towards the Duchess then, waiting to see what will occur.
That 'WTF' look from Grayle has Nysia's lips tighten just slightly before they ease back into that firm neutral once more. Let it not be said that she is oblivious to Cathbadh's decree, however, for her eyes go to him soon enough when he is making that fine and Seelie declaration to the full of the court. It is a subtle thing, depending on who you ask, but she is trying to find his gaze and catch it. Ever-so-slightly, she shakes her head to him. A sort of 'stand down' or 'at ease' or similar motion, but it is so slight, so vague, it might be difficult to interpret.
The slightest of ... feelings ... flitters across Dulcinea's emotive and expressive face, like a butterfly of shadowsmoke flapping its wings, the unwelcome breeze threatening to mar the visage that could communicate volumes with but a glance. Her lips part ever so slightly, as if to speak. But no words will come. None. Not for a very long moment, as the silence draws out across the room like ... taffy? Too little butter over too much bread? Thin and fragile, a bridge buckling beneath an unexpected burden.
"Well, not charging us with sword drawn, courtly protocol be damned, is about as friendly of a reaction as you can expect from a Scathnach Troll..." Winston says to his companions as he rubs the back of his head with an expression like bemused embarassment, "... I mean, every interaction he's ever had with a Thallain has involved murder and mayhem, I'd bet. So you can't really blame the guy for having a pretty severe reaction." He then looks over at the Duchess, "Ahem... would this be an appropriate time to address the court, your Grace?" His own courtly etiquette might be well below the standard of a Sidhe, but he gives off the impression that this isn't his first time attending a Kithain Court.
Hoooooo booooooy! Penny's Dreadful will be a bar burner of an edition when it drops next! No one would dark break protocol in the room. (Well, maybe the unwelcome guests, but -) But the silence that deafens the space provides all the ample canvas necessary. Stffening of spines. Shared glances. Held breaths. The upcoming season? SHALL. BE. AN. INTERESTING. ONE.
Ah, but that's the crux, because they were welcomed. By the Duchess. Isabeau folds her hands in front of her, starting to take a breath to speak when Winston chimes up. Her head tilts slightly and she looks at him curiously, but lets the breath out without a word spoken to let the Captain have his say.
Mattrim wiggles his nose a bit, as if thinking things over, and his arms cross - in a way that conveys watchful interest of the goings-on instead of outright hostility. His right hand fidgets with the many charms adorning his left wrist. Otherwise he stays quiet. His clothing and height shift slighlty over a few seconds to fall more in line with the two nearest to him, Bastian and Maeve.
Dulcinea exhales a breath that while she may have been unawares she was holding, surely those present in the court were /acutely/ aware. Caer Angeles has been many things over the years, each season bringing with it something new, usually for the better, though perhaps not as often as of late. Suddenly? The sidhe looks - dare we say it? - /tired/. But only for a moment. Still. When the sun blinks out, even for a nanosecond? NOT A GOOD THING (tm). In a clear, calm, collected voice (a testament to her unique and successful time as an examplar of the Fiona), she speaks. Three words. Three. Little. Words. Slowly. Carefully. For all those in the very back of the hall to hear, even if they'd might have had too much of some addle-ale draught of another. "I have spoken."
Let it not be said that Countess Nysia is attempting to gainsay the Duchess. She complies by a deep curtsy to the words spoken, holding the pose for a stretch of time, before she rises slowly. "The words of our Duchess have been heard and they are adhered to." She repeats this first and foremost, quiet and with the power of her own station backing them. Yet she makes an addition, looking out across those gathered. "Let them be treated as any Kithain, held to our standards, compliant with our laws. Let them be as earnest," and oh yes, she pins a look to Gadget the Goblin there as well as Winston thereafter, "and true as them. May our laws be followed." The 'or else' is very silent, but present.
Diana the most yoked out lean patty and green machine goblin turns around to see who was talking shit about them, eyeing Cath. She winds up to say the most foul of verbal atrocities known to kith-kind ; when she sticks out her tongue and blows a huge raspberry at him instead. *PFFFFTFTFTFTFT*, and then she bites her tongue. She bites it so hard that she won't say anything else. She was trying to be on her best behavior. Looking back to the nobles and peeking around giant Thallians. Why was everyone so tall?! - Immediately drawing silently at Countess Nysia's decree.
There is a clearing of Grayle's throat and as Dulcinea makes that pronouncement, he bows deeply in a show of respect for the Duchess before giving Nysia his attention as she speaks. He nods in the wake of her words, and then looks to the Thallain as a whole, "While you remain within the lands of the Shattered Scale you are to be treated with the same regard and respect as any other Kithain seeking refuge here. If you require shelter, it shall be offered. If you require sustenance, it will be given freely. If you require aid, it will be yours. You are as our own." Much like Nysia there is something left unspoken at the end there, a lack of any true trust just yet. This is obedience. The raspberry given has a slight twitch going off in his cheek, but what emotion prompted the twitch?? Who knows.
Cathbadh bows first to Dulcinea, then to Nysia and finally to Grayle. "I have spoken" is all he says, repeating the Duchess' own words and leaving.
Cathbadh has left.
Ran watches the proceedings very carefully. When there was a lapse, the Hsien takes a step forward to present themselves before the Duchess. Their fan is lowered from their painted face, then they present before Dulcinea in a low prostative bow. The water creature does not sink all the way down and kiss the floor as one did before the Mandarins. The Hsien then rises with a rigid back and a silence about them. "Blessings of Many Fortunes upon you, Your Grace..." There was a pregnant pause, as if the foreigner was requesting to speak.
Finally - Trix nudges her way through the crowd so that she can stand up closer to where the Count and Countess, and Duchess are all arrayed. Just enough to be able to draw attention to herself and wait for a silent signal from Gray that she can speak. "If you're not already aware, I am Dame Anima Trix ni Fiona and Left Hand of the Court." Her gaze rests on Winston first, and then Diana before gesturing at them.
"I was recently out scouting near the far dreaming for information, when a... fish creature lured in our team and swallowed whole one of the guards with me. Were it not for the timely arrival of these two, AND their willing assistance, I am certain we would not have made it back without extensive injury. They have my thanks. And in return I promised I would vouch for them here; I do so now, in the presence of the Court. It is not nearly so heroic as saving The Duchess; but it is a repeated pattern of assistance and it bears telling."
When Cathcadh makes his leave, there is a pause from Grayle and then he is turning his attention to Ran with a deep curiosity. He offers a deep bow of his head, "Welcome to the County of the Shattered Scale," He glances to Dulcinea as if to confirm he is able to continue the court. When Trix steps forward and offers those comments, another look is cast to the Thallain, this one far more contemplative, "Thank you for those remarks, Dame Trix. That there is a pattern of assistance is very reassuring." He nods to his Left Hand and then looks back to Ran, "Please, make yourself known to us." Clearly an encouragement to speak.
Bastian watches the proceedings, his lips pressed together in a line that he probably hopes is neutral. Once more he closes his eyes for several moments as Cathbadh leaves abruptly, letting out a soft and soundless breath. Probably nobody sees it, but he does give a thumbs up to Trix, as well as a brief grin. But then his attention returns to Grayle and Nysia. Though he can't help but take the chance to take another almost shy gander at the unfamiliar Ran.
"Its already not boring." Icarus will manage a deep enough but awkward bow to satisfy courtly requirements before he is reaching to..snag Isabeau by the shoulder from behind. "I don't know where I'm going now." Its a whispered statement but with volume apportioned to his size.
Winston takes this invitation from Grayle as his opportunity to finally make some remarks, "My name is Captain Winston Sauer, I'm in charge of the free merchant airship the Nachthexe. A lot of you are probably asking yourselves why your Duchess would make such a crazy decree. A lot of you are probably wondering what the four of us are up to. I will make it real simple. Life as a Thallain is short, miserable, and cruel. We saw an opportunity to jump ship from masters that would throw our lives away as cannon fodder, and we took that chance." He smiles a sharp toothed smile at this, "I'm not looking to be friends with anyone who isn't looking to be friends with me. I'll settle very much for not having a truncheon hitting me in the head when I try to walk down the street. If anyone needs good shipped somewhere on the quiet, you can come find me and we can talk business."
Isabeau lifts her hand to lightly pat Icarus' where it rests on her shoulder, "Don't worry, we'll all get settled shortly." Then gently clears her throat and finally speaks to the rest after Winston is done. "We here before you now came to the Duchess at great expense, for what it is worth. We have not only burned bridges with those you revile, we have nuked them from orbit. There is a high chance that those we left behind...want us dead almost as much as you all do." A twitch of a smile that's there and gone. "So, we've come forward. We fully intend a different sort of relationship and simply ask we be given the chance to do so before we are utterly condemned. The Duchess has been most gracious in allowing us to do so, and so we are forever grateful for her benevolence." With that she curtsies to Dulcinea, and then the Count and Countess.
When given the approval to speak Ran lowers their fan and gives their introduction before the Court. "Kamuii Danshaku Higurashi Nonakukoroni Nomae Natsu-ame Yamatogawa-yubi no Ue, reincarnated in to the body of Yoshida Ran, Suijen of the Court of the Xian Mun. Servant of the Water Ministry for One Thousand Births and One Thousand Deaths, Journeyman of the Water's Great Mysteries." That was... a mouthful. And to think in the courts of the east there were introductions even longer than this one. "I am one of the Kwannon-jin, the Shinma, or the Hsien, though your people can courts often call me by the word... Gallain. I step before the most honorable Duchess in hopes that she might bestow an answer to a foreign dignitary."
Nysia's eyes flick toward the departing troll but this is a thing done in brief. She is quiet at this point, taking in the words of the Kithain and the Thallain alike. Her gaze moves in a most solemn fashion, turning from one individual to the next. Perhaps her attention lingers a bit more on their newfound companions, but still. It is Ran that summons her attention next when they speak. She looks curiously toward the Gallain and this time her attention to Grayle is more blatant a thing as she awaits the Duchess' response.
Maeve is just going to sneak towards the back of the room again where she can lean against a wall with arms folded in front of herself and watch; with no small amount of relief breathed out as well, perhaps. She too is so very curious about the rest of the newcomers, not bothering to hide her intense scrutiny.
Mattrim gets a sour look on his face, for just a moment when Winston mentions shipping goods on the quiet, via an airship - but it passes just as quickly as it came, and he settles back into calm observance, making a mental note to approach the captain on the subject later.
Dulcinea goes back to her sunshine and sweet smile as if nothing at all had gone wrong. She nods to Grayle, but when Ran addresses her, she looks to the Hsien curiously. "Greetings and salutations, Kamuii Danshaku Higurashi Nonakukoroni Nomae Natsu-ame Yamatogawa-yubi no Ue, reincarnated in to the body of Yoshida Ran, Suijen of the Court of the Xian Mun." She recites the name with a singular flare, making it seem easy. "What can I answer for you?"
Diana is a bit entranced with the Hsien and the beautiful and long introduction that she couldn't phantom repeating, nudging the Captain and whispering up to him, "Say that five times fast.", scrunching her nose playfully. All joshing aside, the goblin thought Yoshida Ran was pretty cool and she never met one of her kind before. Mumbling again, "Yo, we get to keep these flashy cloaks or do I got to get this dry cleaned and returned to Bastian?", that was about as much etiquette as the thallian could muster. First time at court and living to tell the tale. Luckily her voice didn't travel that far and wasn't too much of a bother to courtly affairs.
Ran's austere expression cracks in the faintest of smile. Few could recite the ostentatious titles of the Little Gods of the East, and most barely even tried. The Suijen gestures to the four uncloaked figures that had roused such a stir. "To these Four you have granted a measure of dignity: To be treated as Kithain, though from what I can surmise that is not what they are by the mantle of their own fortuner. I know not what they are, just not Kithain and not Shinma. I understand that the Kithain enjoy the pleasure of certain dignities by being able to be recognized as such. I wish to ask... Does the blessing your decree extend to all Gallain within the domain of the Shattered Scale?"
There is a pause and Dulcinea looks first to Grayle and Nysia before she answers, in brief. "All Gallain are welcome within the Kingdom of Pacifica, so says Queen Aeron ni Fiona, to whom I answer. Under the Right of Demense, each land is the domain of the one, or ones, who keep it. In this case, Shattered Scale would follow the dictates of its rulers." Dulcinea gestures to the Count and Countess.
The count bows to Dulcinea and then to Ran, and there is a moment in which he considers attempting that full recitation. "Forgive me, Kamuii Danshu... Higurashi... is there something a little shorter I might address you as and still show respect?" There is a hopeful smile on his face, "As to your welcome, you are most certainly so. The same welcome I would offer to any Kithain is extended to you."
Though she is not speaking to offer her voice to the agreement, Nysia dips her head in the wake of Grayle's own words. That, it seems, is enough. The weight of her agreement is placed behind the gesture.
"My Courtly name in the English tongue is: The Sound of Cicadas before the Summer Rain Over the Yamatogawa River," Ran says as they turn to the Count. There was that subtle intonation in Ran's voice that seemed to indicate that something just wasn't proper about English. "You may call me Cicada... or Ran if we should somehow meet in the world of Mortals. Danshaku Kamuii is my title, as you are known as Count." The Suijen looks between the Duchess and Grayle. "And all Gallain are granted then, in the same respect, the certain respects outlined in your Escheat. Right of Safe Haven, Right of Rescue, Right of Demesne, Right to Life?" "
Bastian hears his name, offering a smile in that direction at the goblin, though the kinain looks just a little on the puzzled side about the cloaks. He doesn't break protocol, though, continuing to stand relatively quietly near Maeve and Mattrim, though he does reach up to rub his scruffy chin ever so slightly as the proceedings continue, as if that's helping him to think.
When Ran is speaking up, asking that particular question and phrased so, this is when Nysia is answering for herself as well as Count Grayle, "It would be prudent for those Gallain to introduce oneself first and foremost." That particular comment may not quite be an appropriate answer, but it is the one that she is willing to give. Her eyes briefly leave the scene at the mention of Bastian's name being audible, followed by a glance toward the kinain to place his position. It is a brief thing however.
With a smile, there is a bow of his head and Grayle says, "The pleasure is mine, The Sound of Cicadas before the Summer Rain Over the Yamatogawa River." He inhales deeply and looks around, "Are there any other petitions for the Court tonight, or are we free to wrap up?"
Maeve looks as though she is desperately trying to remember the intricacies of Ran's name, and her eyes may well cross in the attempt. "Need more caffeine." she whispers.
"I have no further petitions," Ran claims and then bows politely to the nobles. "Thank you Count and Countess." They rise, pop their fan, and wade back out into the court.
Nysia dips her head to Ran when they step back. She turns there to address the group as a whole. "When petitions of the court are finished," she says, her voice a quiet thing but still nevertheless managing to carry, "and protocol is no longer enforced, we invite you all to converse with one another and to remain or depart as it pleases you."
Mattrim shakes his head lightly, he doesn't have any petitions to bring up tonight either.
With a gesture, Grayle lowers the protocol cantrip and says, "Then by all means, I encourage you all to stay and mingle as long as you like. Food and resfreshments will be served in about ten minutes. Please stay and enjoy our hospitality."
Isabeau inclines her head as things conclude, then asks politely, "Count, Countess, a moment of your time if I may? I have...concerns?" A glance towards the doorway a certain Troll departed through and then back, though the smile on her face remains as calm and stoic as ever.
Though the cantrip has been lowered, Nysia nevertheless remains on the formal aside. Or perhaps this is simply how the sidhe is. It should be little surprise that she remains at Grayle's side during the end few moments of the Court. When Isabeau speaks up however, her attention is moving toward her and she dips her head once in response. "If you have concerns, by all means, do allow us to hear them." She gestures, a welcoming motion, to the area that they inhabit so more quiet conversation may take place. "Or would you prefer to discuss the matter in private?"
Bastian releases his breath in a soft whistle after protocol is lowered, shaking his head slightly but straightening to his full height in an easy stretch. "Well, that wasn't so bad," he murmurs softly, offering Mattrim a wink, and then a brief flash of a grin to Maeve. "Does this mean that the people who were good get to partake of the bag now?" he asks the Nocker.
Isabeau shakes her head lightly, "No, this isn't something I am inclined to keep secretive, as I think it involves all of your newly aquired refugees." She inclines her head to the Duchess as well before looking back. "If...well, if someone gets froggy unprovoked, what would you like us to do? We intend to acclimate ourselves as appropriate, but it sounds as though some don't wish to give us the chance at all." Tastefully vauge as she can be.
"Could definitely have been worse." Maeve agrees, almost cheerfully. "Oh, please do." she encourages Bastian. "Here, have two even." Another small cellophane bag is handed to him. "I have SO MANY of these stashed in the lab right now, you have no idea. I feel like I'll run out sooner rather than later anyway though." She sounds mournful about that really, but only because she'll have to keep purchasing more.
Elijah listens to Isabeau's words and sends a considering look to Nysia and to the Duchess before looking back to the Thallain. "You have every right to defend yourself as any Kithain might when faced with violence. I would ask that you follow the Escheat and not take a life -- to do so is to lessen the Dream. If you would feel safer with an escort..." He looks towards the Duchess as if to prompt an offer there.
Winston mingles. Might seem like a strange thing for a Beastie to do, but there he is... wandering through the gathered kithain and nodding his head. He walks over to where Maeve and Bastian are standing, "Dame Anima Trix. I hope your man isn't too traumatized by his near digestion." He also nods in greeting to Bastian as well.
Bastian grins more broadly as Trix doles out prizes, and promptly opens one of the bags, turning it towards Mattrim as if to offer him some of the contents if he wants, or at least a look. When Winston comes up, he returns the nod with a quiet smile.
"You are to be treated as any of the Kithain," answers Nysia, glancing to the Duchess as she speaks these words, "--within this domain. I believe it is venturing outside of the domain - the Duchess' lands - that might cause issue, but our influence does not extend beyond this. We take the Right of Life seriously." And perhaps by 'we' she means 'I' but that is mere conjecture. "I expect those within my lands to follow it. You are, as Count Grayle says, welcome to defend yourself. I would prefer a fresh recounting of any incidences however, especially if you believe that they might progress to bring you harm." Her eyes move to the other little group, Maeve and Bastian there, and she raises her voice juuuuust slightly. "If I am not here, you may speak to Sebastian," and yes she absolutely is calling out the kinain, "and he will bring word to me, as Lady Maeve ni Fiona might to Count Grayle." She leaves it at that, since Grayle has initiated the offer of an escort.
The Duchess sighs and shakes her head, that glimmer of fatigue revealing itself one more. "That was an unexpected twist to the evening, that much is true. But if something goes exactly as planned -- well. Where is the challenge in that?" There is a smile, but it is a thin thing. "I believe you are all capable of protecting yourselves. If, however, you find that violence is being threatened upon you..." She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a thick coin. It is stamped with a rose on one side, and a lion on the other. This is motioned over and one thick coin becomes four thinner ones. "Keep these on yourselves. It has one use in it. If violence is threatened, throw this down and say 'Pax Unitas'. Protocol will be enforced and no violence can be commited, by my name."
Mattrim looks in the bag and stuffles a laughter, "Ah, my favorite, how did you know?" he says as he gets out one of the pastries offered to him. He gives Batian an eyebrow wag, with a mischivous grin, before taking a bite of said pastry.
Isabeau inclines her head to both the Count and Countess. "That is what I wished to clarify. I do not wish for any attempt to protect ourselves to be seen as overt aggression. I am fully aware of the tentative ground we stand upon. I wish to see this succeed. It may embolden others of our ilk to realize that the path their Masters set them upon is not the only one. It could herald a change on a larger scale. That might be wishful thinking on my part, but it is a hope to aspire to." Her smile grows slightly. "But if we are simply killed out of hand, that would put and end to that I expect." There's a soft sigh and then she looks to the others of their group. "We should see to getting settled, residences and the like."
"You are all welcome to reside within the guest rooms here, within the Freehold until you can settle yourselves on the Mortal side of things. That would further offer security as violence is strictly forbidden within the Freehold." Gray inclines his head with a faint smile. "If you wish, of course."
Mail: You have new mail from -> Luu
Bastian offers the bag of chocolates to Maeve next, only fair to share. "Trix is a genius," he grins at Mattrim, including the nocker as well as the piskey in that warmth. "Have you been able to settle in a bit?" he asks Winston gently. "My offer still stands, if and when it would be useful. Mattrim, have you met the Captain?" he asks, indicating Winston.
Ran wanders the room, looking close to conversations. Their attention was mostly on the requests of the Nobles, though. After all... why else does anyone attend court. The Suijen eventually finds themself standing near Bastain, looking him up and down from behind their fan.
Isabeau inclines her head once more. "Your offer is kind. I will see what the rest of our little group would like to do and we will go from there. Thank you, for your hospitality this evening." She dips in a curtsy and then turns to the Duchess, "And you as well your Grace." another to Dulcinea as she holds her hand out to take the offered coins. "Thank you for giving us a new home." She turns then to approach the others in her group, dropping coins into a hand until they're all distributed appropriately.
"The idea is to throw the bag after.. well nevermind. It speaks for itself doesn't it?" Maeve says cheerfully, waving at both Winston and Diana to gesture them over. "Chocolate dick?" she offers, gesturing at the bag. Gotta be good hosts and all. "No wonder you all didn't need my intro. Brats." she quips, then, a the Thallian pair, though it's without heat.
<OOC> Winston is actually going to have to get going, "Just realized how late it's getting. Thanks for the RP everyone."
When that matter of business is taken care of, Nysia nods in response to Isabeau. She is regarded quite curiously as she steps away, her gaze lingering, but eventually she is taking in the gathering as a whole. The Duchess is curtsied to, and, due to the conclusion of the main event, she is finally turning back toward Grayle and offering forth a few quiet words to him. Someone perceptive, or with sluagh hearing, might make out 'tired' as one of the things spoken. It might be a feat for two sidhe to disappear, or fade into the background, but after a circle they very much do.
