We make a life by what we give.

The Last Supper

POSTED: Mon Jan 01, 2018 4:57 pm

[WC:307] The Last Supper: Check out the Newspost for some details about this unique Last Supper event! After a round of arrivals Salvia and Elphaba will speak, and then the feasting can begin!

She noticed it happening slowly, gradually. While night had fallen quickly for much of the season, twilight was beginning to linger longer. This pleased Salvia, who found herself longing for clear days when most seemed gray and overcast. As they neared the Last Supper, a snowstorm blew in one night and left the land coated in powdery white, and during the night the wind picked up and cleared out the clouds.

A moon, huge and luminous, had been visible early in the morning when Salvia rose. She took this as a positive sign and set about seeing to the preparations which needed handling – there were not many this year, as the pack was responsible for preparing meals. What slaves could be spared were tasked with cleaning and otherwise preparing the area. When Salvia had stopped by during the afternoon the place had been pleasantly warmed and starting to look proper.

Dusk fell and the moon rose again, swollen and awfully bright. Salvia finished with her foodstuffs and donned a leather dress carefully tailored for her body. It was layered and dyed various shades of green, and atop this she wore gold and handsome trinkets which boasted of her wealth. She and her consort (in a far less gaudy display suited to his tastes) made the trek to the feasting hall.

Salvia's contribution was already waiting there. She had slaughtered and (with aid) prepared a whole hog from the pack's livestock. Huge and cooked slowly, the whole pig was laid out as if the centerpiece for their feast. It clearly seemed like Salvia meant to have it this way – certainly there would be no argument over whose contribution was the greatest if she herself claimed it.

Lingering outside to admire the rising moon, Salvia gathered her thoughts and then called out her summons for the Family.

The Regent (NPC)
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Luperci Cazadora, Vaquera Mate to Stannis Ultra Mega Chikkun? NO. She is legend... I will send famine and wild beasts against you, and they will rob you of your children.
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a wild beast or a god

POSTED: Tue Jan 02, 2018 6:07 am

Word Count → ??? :: hello my loves! let the shenanigans begin ;> I can't wait to see all the meals you bring, and all your fine clothes!! remember that spin-off threads that take place after the feast are welcome and encouraged - there will be music and dancing galore <3

It would be an auspicious event, the first formal Supper attended by a Hierophant of any name. Knowing this, Elphaba took special care with her appearance; All impressions were important, and she'd a history of making quite the show by sight alone.

More than this, she took great enjoyment from staving off predictability.

The black ao dai was notably demure for the vainer daughter of Osrath, but this was in itself a message; The dark color complimented her tumbling raven locks and starkly contrasted the pale shock of her face. This evening, Elphaba chose not to look pretty, nor wealthy, nor even luxurious as had been the want of her childish self.

It was a simple, pious choice. At the last minute, the young woman slipped a long gold chain around her neck on which swung a heavy garnet stone - The only splash of her signature cardinal red and the only concession to her otherwise austere attire. She held a cracked hand mirror stolen from her mother and turned this way and that, and smiled when she was satisfied by what she saw.

This Last Supper was a stranger event than most. Elphaba herself had held a firm hand in this. There were goals she intended to fulfill by night's end, which was many long cold hours from now - Plans buried among music and dancing and revelry. The peacetime after Inferni's disciplining had come at a cost. Without the war to distract them, the people whispered and spread rumors and dissent among themselves.

Political warfare was its own kind of bloody battle, but the witch had been trained for this her whole life, and she was not unprepared.

However, she did show up to the feasting hall seemingly empty-handed. The scent of Salvia's slow cooked boar had already permeated the air with a salivating odor, wafting out invitingly down the winding pathways of the Ruins along with her commanding call. Palms clasped daintily together, Elphaba went to stand by the Boss in the place where her father had stood for many years. Serene and composed, she whispered something into her grandmother's ear, and offered her grandfather a whiskery kiss.

With determination, the young woman crushed the butterflies that fluttered nervously in her stomach, ridding them of their bejeweled warning wings. The people were beginning to arrive. Somewhere in the shadows Bull was watching on, his azurite blue false eye winking in the light cast from many flames and its true green twin narrowed in a speculative scowl. Secure in this knowledge, the Hierophant lifted her chin and offered the oncoming Family a lovely smile.

we need a forest fire
The Boss
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Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit the queen is dead, long live the queen
burn the witch
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POSTED: Tue Jan 02, 2018 10:23 pm

My power's turned on
Starting right now I'll be strong

OOC: It's that time again. Idrieus is wearing her traditional Last Supper outfit (gold). Her contribution to the potluck is wine. +700 words.

It was of no surprise that Salsola's leadership would make the announcement of holding the Last Supper now. Inferni's defeat brought new moral to the kingdom, and Elphaba's rise to power was sure to get some more attention at such a gathering.. as if she really needed it. It was clear she had already made her grasp the first time she told of her father's banishment as well as her new title of Hierophant. Not only was there no point to rubbing salt in the wound of a man who was long gone by this point, but also drawing more attention to what she and Salvia had done in regards to this situation. Idrieus knew better than to blindly trust words. After all.. that's all they were. Words. Actions spoke louder than words.

And at this point, what had the dark, red-eyed daughter done for herself and the kingdom? Nothing. Or at least nothing she heard of. The Apprentice had spent the past few days pacing about in her room. Of course she had tended to her duties, but there was the small problem to the prospect of this gathering. Each member was supposed to contribute to the feast, seeing as there was a severe lack of slaves to do the work for them. In a way, this was better for them. No doubt there were many in Salsola that had grown so accustomed to the slaves handling work that they were at a loss for what to do themselves. Thankfully, she was not in such a position.

The dog woman had something no one else in the kingdom had.. or perhaps outside the royal families. Wealth.

Money came in handy when her natural skills were of no use for the tasks ahead of her. Though not an expert trader, it was quick to see how little she had to give away in order to get something great in return. To think all this gold once came from the men who tried to bring about the fall of Salsola.

Wine bottles rested on the dog woman's table, plenty of not only variety and quality, but quantity. She knew of the Pentiti's likeness to wine, and was sure he wouldn't be the only one whom would find pleasure in such a thing. It wasn't food, but who would think about bringing drinks to a social gathering? She was no hunter, that was to be sure, and she was no cook either. This would be a good substitute, and a demonstration at just what she was capable of getting her hands on.

Night began to cover the land. Idrieus had just finished with her grooming, this gathering being one of the only times she cared about making sure she looked her best. A soft chuckle escaped from her. She probably wouldn't have even been like this if it wasn't for Artemisia hammering the fact in on her first Last Supper. Golden dress laid out against her pelts, waiting for the moment when it would be worn by the dog woman. Hands reached down, taking the cloth in hand, allowing the dress to unfold itself. A soft smile came to her face as she slipped into it, making sure it still fit along her figure.

The curls of her golden hair were already presentable, it was just a matter of making sure her hair didn't look matted. A brush was enough to do the job.

Once her look had been approved by the Apprentice herself, feet carried her back over to the table, arms wrapping around the bottles of wine, leaving her to make the short journey to the gathering sight. As her feet made contact with the snow, glowing blue eyes turned up to the darkened sky. The stars were dancing, full moon shining brightly above the kingdom. What a perfect night for the Last Supper.

When Idrieus arrived, it seemed she had been on the first, being only behind the two leaders. Her head bowed down to each of them respectfully, "Boss. Hierophant." Stepping over to the large table, the wine bottles were placed, spreading them across the line so the members would not have to reach.. not unless there was a certain one someone wanted. That task done, she made her way towards the head of the table, crossing her arms as she stood behind her chair. She had done well for herself to make it to this point, and she would only continue to climb.

Idrieus Eternity

The Paladin
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Community Soul Luperci Mate to Grievous Historiador & Libro Guardiana The Price for Freedom More than a Warning
Karma's Gonna Come Collect Your Debt
smiles of plated GOLD

POSTED: Wed Jan 03, 2018 7:49 pm

Itachi is just wearing his usual chaos star coat, cuz dressing up is stoopid! His contribution is a fat beaver which someone else has slow roasted with the tail on top to marinate it with fat and extra juicy flavour.

He dreaded these things.

The reachings for new traditions and civilized ways when all they were, truly, were mindful beasts looking for a greater purpose than more primitive ancestors had known. Well, good for them.

Paler tones tinted with grey had started to creep into the fur along his muzzle and hidden within the golden hues of his coat. Yet, Itachi Lykoi had always known what he was and who he was. He wasn't meant for these things.

The respect for Salvia and the obligatory love for China's children kept him here. Sometimes he even found himself missing Siv. Of all the strange creatures of this place, she had been more tangible and real than most of the lot.

His offering had been the uncommon catch of a female beaver. The creature was on the larger size due to gender and age, and its tail was full of nourishing fat and taste. He'd spent the better part of the day in pursuit of it, finally getting to it by crudely breaking several holes in the dam it'd made with his twin-sword, claws, persistence and brute strength. The fresh carcass had been delivered earlier, and he saw now that the meat had been roasted with the beavertail toasting on top of the meat; marinating the meat in fat and juices.

Such a waste of perfectly good raw meat.

Stepping out of the shadows, the man approached his alphess for obligatory display of respect. Salvia was worthy of her title and though he placed no kiss on her cheek, he dipped his muzzle before her, acknowledging her status and the certainty of it. Elphaba received similarly, but the motion was probably somewhat muted in comparison -- she was barely more than a child and unproven. Then again, he didn't care, and she was rightfully above him in the hierarchy.

He turned and moved toward the section of the table that was his, looking to nothing and no one. The celebration meant nothing to him -- he would endure and slick away at the earliest opportunity. He preferred the dark and the wilderness and the taste of meat so fumingly fresh that his mouth filled with blood when he bit in, all while it still screamed.

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POSTED: Wed Jan 03, 2018 11:46 pm

Scorpius and Serene have brought a spit-roasted whole lamb and a couple wedges of fine cheese. [ 508 ]

Riding the high of an inglorious victory the monsters of Salsola rejoiced.

This Last Supper was already different than the previous ones by far. With a lack of slaves each member of the Family was tasked with bringing a dish - or whatever they could contribute - and as a result the grand feasting table was for the most part bare. No more were the feet of many Trells softly shuffling behind the backs and below the voices of the Family, and for the first time in a long time the ranked members actually had to do some work to ensure their revelry.

Scorpius was not bothered at all by the extra effort and Serene leapt at the chance to test out her culinary skills. A roasting spit was prepared the night before and the large lamb carefully selected - with permission - from Salsola's stock. The next day the lamb was prepped and marinated with a simple mixture of fine ingredients and then slowly and methodically roasted rotisserie style over the smoky aromatic fire carefully tended to by the Jagermeister.

What was left of the day was used in preparation of themselves. Fur was washed and scented lightly and pleasantly with aromas that suited each individual; earthy masculine scents for the males and floral feminine scents for the females.

Scorpius donned a black shirt and black pants, a dark forest green vest, and his signature bear mantled winter cloak. His hair was tied back with a simple white bow. Serene slipped into something much more elegant, a deep navy blue dress to go with her eyes, and did her hair up in dried flowers and braids. The pups each wore a cape of sorts, a shaped piece of soft and supple leather plushly furred on one side, and fastened about the neck to keep them warm.

Among the first to arrive as always the Beast and his Beauty set their contribution down upon the feasting table and approached the Boss to pay their respects. The customary greeting was offered and a few words were exchanged before the same was done with the Heirophant and the duo politely excused themselves to their seats.

The pups whined a little when they were led away from their father to sit with their mother further down the table but soon quited down as more and more of the pack filed in and faces new and old summoned all sorts of curious questions. Serene hushed her offspring as best she could but the brazen Sidious carried on regardless, pointing at various individuals with a motion of his paw. It was not until a low rumbling growl erupted from Scorpius that the young male quieted, his ears flattening against his head.

The small family settled in and watched the rest of the pack gather, a casual glance offered to all but only a handful of faces caught a lingering gaze and even fewer received a proper greeting.

Once all were in attendance and settled, all eyes turned to the head of the table.

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Cazador, Veleno
Valar Morghulis

POSTED: Thu Jan 04, 2018 1:16 am

Duncan has brought two plank grilled salmon. Vesta has brought four fresh caught ptarmigan. [ 480 ]

For once Duncan was not late to the Supper.

With the task of preparing and bringing a dish worthy of the whole pack the Scout was determined to come up with something interesting and even more determined to bring it on time.

Duncan was by no means a cook, and while he could make pretty much anything out of wood, he doubted a thoughtful centerpiece was worth the time and effort for a single feast. Meat was an easy and simple option but he imagined every capable hunter in the pack would be bringing meat in some shape or form, so that was swiftly pushed out of his mind as quickly as it had entered.

Instead he turned to the only other alternative he had, fishing, and within a few days had two large and meaty salmon snapped up from the snaking rivers off the bay. With a little help and advice from Vesta - who in her past lives had done her fair share of cooking - the fish were split into four filets, seasoned delicately with herbs and spices, and then slowly grilled on a maple plank over a low smoldering fire.

He smelled quite potently of woodsmoke by the time all was said and done but the dish looked, smelled, and - as far as a quick taste proved - tasted great. He did his best to freshen up before the feast but couldn't completely get rid of the smoky scent on his fur, so he decided to enhance it, adding an assortment of other aromatic woods to the fire until he smelled almost as delicious as his dish.

A white shirt, black pants, and a black vest along with a half pony-tail to tame his wild locks made the Irishman presentable when he finally arrived, just behind the early arrivals but ahead of the bulk of the pack. He placed the plank down by a rather disheveled pile of game birds - four freshly caught ptarmigan, as far as he could tell at a glance - and then made his way to greet the Boss and Hierophant appropriately.

Vesta had already been there for a while, uncomfortably though beautifully clad in a simple dark green dress, and owned up to bringing the birds as her contribution to the feast. She could cook easily enough - and had helped him prepare his offering - but had no desire to put much effort into her own. The Banshee was a slave no more and would not subjugate herself any further than she had to already. Plus, she preferred her food raw, as nature intended.

After a moment of socializing as the rest of the pack gathered and everyone was in attendance the Family dispersed to their appropriate places and turned their attention to the head of the table, eagerly awaiting the words of the Boss and the Heirophant.

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The Family (NPC)
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Luperci Vedetto Macha Tribe King Bee
night gathers
and now my watch begins

POSTED: Thu Jan 04, 2018 3:04 am

(474) Lithia is wearing this, but in silver and not trippingly long like that one xD She brought an elk roast

Salsola’s Supper would have been one of the few formal gatherings Lithia had been invited to in a long time. Sapient had things like this, but many of them were too crazy to even try to get involved in. Luperci knew less about keeping their composure in Sapient, and Lithia was actually curious to see how Salsolans held their liquor, wine, and drink given that the atmosphere was much different here.

Lithia had been ready well before Salvia’s call rang out against the night. She had been sitting on a wooden chair in her room, reading a book about divination – one she had taken from Anathema on her departure to Sapient – with one silver-tinted finger holding her place and keeping the pages from flopping over in the way. Sleek against her body was a silver dress – one she had commissioned from a clothing trader in the Outpost before it had disbanded. It was the perfect mix of elegance and propriety. It was the perfect outfit to wear to Salsola’s Last Supper.

She had done up her hair in a neat side braid, allowing the tail end to drape over her right shoulder, tickling the soft fur nearest to her armpit. Her bangs were swept aside, framing the curvature of her cheekbones and jaw. Around her neck, she wore the red ruby necklace Kentaro had given her for her Rast Ceremony ages ago.

When she heard Salvia’s call, Lithia stood and slapped the book closed, lifting her dress to make her way down the stairs. The first floor of her house already housed the earthen tray of elk roast, soaked in spiced liquid, topped with spices and herbs, and housed with varying vegetables available to Salsolans should they want to eat them. The tray was still relatively hot, though she was almost sure that it wouldn’t matter. She had stolen a taste before she got dressed and knew that she had commissioned the right cook for the job.

Carefully, she brought the tray to the Last Supper, approaching both Salvia and Elphaba first. She dipped her head to both of them, elongated for an intended show of respect. ”Boss Salvia. Heirophant Elphaba,” she spoke loudly, clearly, lingering only for a moment to let them either acknowledge or echo the greeting. She wasn’t sure which the two would do.

Once dismissed, Lithia moved to the food table and found a space to put her roast down before walking diligently to her place at the table. It was still not a place of importance, despite being in the pack now for a few months; however, if Lithia was diligent, she’d find her place among them soon enough. Like everyone else, she stood alert and erect behind her chair, hands clasped together in front of her, and head turned toward the Boss and the Heirophant, awaiting their speech.

The Confidant
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Luperci 2020 SoSuWriMo Champion! Your poison taints my blood
hardest of hearts
and from it she fled

POSTED: Thu Jan 04, 2018 4:08 pm

With the help of her golden eagle, Veig, Siv had managed to get something to bring for the Last Supper. She carried six skinned rabbits by their ears and dropped them along the table. She hadn't cooked any of them, and her skinning job wasn't all that great either. But she had brought something with her in the very least. Cooked food wasn't something that she had any interest in and so she hadn't brought any.

She was dressed in a long dress, with a high slit up to her thigh, made out of animal hides stitched together. It was the fanciest dress that she had brought with her from the Outpost. She also wore a few necklaces, mostly made from bone or wood. She wasn't used to events such as these back at the Outpost. One only had to look their best when they were trying to impress someone, though she supposed that is what this was all about. And she couldn't exactly say that she knew who she was meant to impress either.

After distributing her small meal along the table she took her seat within the approximate section of where the Family members were meant to sit. This was her very first Last Supper and so she wasn't exactly certain of her placement at the table even though Hug had tried to explain it to her before he had left her here.

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POSTED: Thu Jan 04, 2018 6:14 pm

724 Here he is! Cleome is bringing a tray of baked goods, with two sweet braided breads and fishcakes.
Clothing refs in the post.

To say that Cleome had looked forward to this Supper would be a major understatement. His failure to attend last time had weighted heavy on him for months, one enormous faux pas that he now had the chance to correct. He had already been readying his outfit weeks before the announcement, but when he heard that the members of the Family were expected to bring in their own dishes to compensate for the lack of slave labor to prepare the meal, the Valentine was practically jumping in joy.

During his time in Salsola, he had learned that many were skilled fighters and hunters, something he was not. He could look after his own meals just fine, but taking down anything larger than a wild goat was beyond his strength and skill. But something he did notice was that most were very poor cooks. The Kingdom turned to nobler and bigger endeavors, leaving minor chores like cooking and cleaning, to their slaves. Not Cleome, however. Even if tailoring was his main trade, he enjoyed the process of cooking, as well as the end results. And now he had an excuse to showcase both his skills in a single night. It was a blessing he would not squander.

Chances were that the others were going to bring meats of all sorts, cooked or raw, and maybe drinks. Cleome was going to do something different, and bake. Finding the ingredients during the middle of winter had been, in one word, expensive. You could find anything in any time of the year, if you had the right connections and the right thing to trade. He had one more than the other, and he had to really work for what he wanted, spending many days outside of the borders looking for what he needed. His work had been worth it, in the end, but he'd be glad not to have to do any of that again.

Every minute since he woke up, Cleome had spent cooking in his kitchen, preparing the meals for the evening. And when the afternoon started to wind down into the twilight, he had made a quick dash to Lace's house to make sure she was ready. His sister might not have shown it but he knew she was glad to have him up and ready to join her this time around, but had to kick him out of her house otherwise he wouldn't stop fussing. He would have made a stop by Trident's place, if the hour wasn't already late. He spent hours combing his curls with rose water, and dressing up. The light fabric of the white shoulderless tunic and the faded blue skirt might not be fitting for the winter cold, but he had been prancing around the snow for months now; he would survive one night. The delicate golden necklaces and bracelets finished the look, and he was ready to go by the time Salvia's howl rang into the dark.

Cleome was lucky to live so close to the Feasting Hall, so the food wouldn't get cold on the way there. The lambskin tambourine on his hip jingled softly with his every step, ringing out his arrival. With a wooden tray covered with a cloth on his hands, magenta eyes watched the others guests; he wasn't late, at least. Swallowing down whatever doubts he might have, he stood before the two Mafiosi and bowed in respect. My Boss. My Hierophant. His voice was fluid and demure, as was his gestures, stepping closer to greet them the traditional Salsolan way. Traditions, they were safe and he could trust them not to steer him wrong. Once it was done he found a good point on the table to lay down his tray and uncover it. In it, was two large braided breads, one filled with pumpkin and peppermint, the other with blueberry and raspberry jam, both spiced to perfection. Around them, were multiple fishcakes made with goat cheese and saltwater fishes.

Feeling a content sense of pride, the Confidant went to find a place to sit, eyes looking on as he waited for others to arrive or for the coming speech. Lace arrived not long after him, with a handful of wine bottles, and once she had the formalities done with, he nodded for her to take the vacant seat on his side.

Cleome Valentine

The Tradesman
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Luperci All your friends and foes, they thought they knew ya

POSTED: Fri Jan 05, 2018 3:37 am

”Why have you done this?” She was speaking in french, the thick accent clipped between her teeth as she stared at him with eyes that were so hard he felt himself breaking beneath the weight of them. ”Did you not think of what this would mean to me.” She thumped her hand against her chest, a soldiers salute – but there was no heart behind it. ”Me.”

Had someone from Salsola seen him then they would not have recognized him – here was a young man who had not yet earned his place in the world. There were no scars across his hands, no tatters to the smooth silk of his ears. He was a soldier, but in this kind of fight he found himself at a loss on what to do.

Etoile was nothing but sharp angles, and her mouth was drawn into a never-ending line. Brocade had told her that he loved her – and it was the sort of love that had festered like an open wound, slow and burning beneath his skin. Ferdinand had found her first, and for a long time seen her as nothing more than an extra member of their squadron. She was skilled with the daggers she wielded, and it was only after she had killed a man – burying the hilt of her blade deep into his chest that Feu had truly seen her.

That was when Brocade had fallen in love with her.

There had been something beautiful about the grim set of her mouth, the way her eyes had grown steely with determination and true grit.

She had vomited after – but no one had held it against her.

It happened to the best of them the first time.

Brocade found that he dreamed of the moment he had told her more often now – and sometimes when he awoke he could taste the words on his tongue, and they were bitter with longing. In his dreams she was perfect – and he could see the burst of freckles like stars against the darkness of her cheeks in perfect detail.

Sometimes in the dreams they were constellations of stars and he could see Cassiopeia or the North Star.

He dreamed of her the night before The Last Supper. He roused slowly, the blanket of furs entwined like vines around his legs – he felt himself moan for her into the darkness, one hand clutching at his pillow.

When he awoke he found that it took a great effort to rouse himself from his bed – and as the first sliver of moonlight crept along his broken floor boards he began his preparations. Hyacinth had always been proud of the way their family had portrayed themselves, and perhaps this had been something passed down by Velveteen to her children.

The gypsy caravans had been a great place of savage beauty – and while the soldiers had been out fighting for territory some women had fought for family honor and a place to hang their scarves. Velveteens daughters had been taught to look and listen, to dance and angle their heads just so. Hyacinth had always rebelled against the tradition of her mother, and Brocade wondered what traditions his sister would now pass down to her own children.

Salsola was rife with tradition, and The Last Supper was considered a fete of great importance. He had attended as an Associate and had quietly staked his claim over a corner chair – content to watch and speak only when spoken to. Time had passed since then, and Brocade had risen not only in rank but in confidence.

Now he was a Warden.

He had smoothed the long silver strands of his hair so that it lay smoothly between his ears, the tie gathered carefully at the nape of his neck. He had accented his leather armor with decorative pieces of gold, each buffed until they glittered against his monochrome hide. The usual signs of the wild had been erased, and Brocade rested his offering of dried elk meet against his hip as he took his leave of Millstone Village.

He entered the hall quietly passing his offering to Corinne who assembled it on the sprawling table. She made a sound in her throat at him as she skittered away into the throng and Brocade hesitated on the threshold, his golden gaze scanning the room. Everyone was dressed for the occasion, and he dipped his head as was required – clasping arms and murmuring softly as he made his way toward his Boss and Heirophant.

Elphaba was a swatch of shadow against her grandmother’s golden side and Brocade bowed to both, allowing his lips the briefest of smiles. He greeted each of them in the Salsolan way, lingering close enough to whisper softly to Elphaba: ”Where is your crown Heirophant?” He smiled, and it was all at once polite and wolflish, ”Did you not think of what it would mean to me?" His brow cocked, and he kissed her hand. He praised the feast and congratulated them both on a year of good fortune before taking his leave to find his place at the table.

There were others; Lilia, Indra, Cleome, Calla – so many faces that caught at him as he passed. There was Osrath too - the ex-wife of the Pentiti - and his eyes lingered upon her standing alongside her family. Her dress hung low in front, the long sleeves embroidered in crisp golden thread and he gazed upon her quietly from across the room. She was an enigma, just like her daughters - but there was something there that intrigued him. She was always smiling.

His chair creaked as he took up his place and sat straight backed, arms folded at rest. Around him others laughed, drinking gaily from silver goblets and cups. Soon silence would descend upon them and they would listen to the word of their Queen.

... this got long whoops!

The Director
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Luperci Vedetto, Milite
you forget I have a gypsy heart
listen to the wild

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