Our greatest hour dawns silent but golden

[Birthday Party][Non-Mandatory]

POSTED: Thu May 31, 2018 7:18 pm

Assume everyone was told about the event. Feel free to add any contributions. Participation in this thread and related threads counts for the birthday raffle!

It felt a little odd and almost in bad taste to be hosting a large party for the entire pack not even a whole fortnight after a funeral, but it somehow felt like it was the right thing to do. The Court saw the end of another spring, it's ninth summer dawning one day soon. It had to be celebrated, for all that there had been death aplenty in the two seasons preceding it. Still, Kalypso felt it was needed and necessary and that was more than enough to encourage her to move forward with it.

She would pull her family out of the sadness by their teeth if she had to. Throwing herself into work and enjoyment were the only things that brought the sadness from her heart, especially that focus. Her mind could not suffer in sorrow if she did not let it have a moment's peace. It dulled the pain, and she knew that it would give everyone else something fun to do.

It was quietly spread around that they would have an evening bonfire and feast, of modest proportions. Several of the warriors and prolific hunters brought down a pair of deer, as well a rather lovely fawn that was terribly tender looking. The old deer was roasted, the younger doe merely smoked a little for flavor, and the fawn cut and presented fresh. Delicate flesh of a young animal was always lovely. Kalypso had even sneaked a sampling of its liver and found it divine.

Alessan had been convinced to part with a large quantity of wine, though he warned her that it was not the best and some of his oldest. She countered by telling him no one would care once they were good and drunk.

Someone harvested spring vegetables and flowers seemed to grow on the hillsides nearby, despite the fact they were only perhaps halfway through developing the land into a proper village. A fire, large and bountifully laid with wood, burned brightly as the sun began to set. Chaska had set up torches made of cloth and soaked in resins to burn longer after they were lit. It smelled earthy and her mouth salivated as she settled herself atop the nearest mound.

In her hand was a cup of wine, held delicately, and her legs curled demurely below her, but there was no denying that her hawkish gaze was focused. Kalypso was Queen and she was ready for the future.

If I knew you were a sellout. A thief. Use me up - I would have never let you near me.

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† ♥ SANG DE LA MER ♥ †
the power that you crave
◄taste, what a bittersweet►

POSTED: Fri Jun 01, 2018 8:04 pm

Like a curtain of the deepest, darkest blue, its fabric pocked with pinpricks of starlight, evening fell gently around her. She drew a breath inward and closed her eyes, holding in the smell of woodsmoke and roasted venison and salty dew momentarily before blowing it out again slowly. Her eyes reappeared and settled firmly on the flickering of the golden bonfire. It crackled delightfully, inviting the people of the Court to its warm, bright bosom.

Drifting from the where she'd been standing in the shadows, Thyri accepted its call.

"You look as though you could use a drink," said a delicate voice, its Southern lilt drawn and slow.

Blinking to clear the reverie of the dancing flames, Thyri turned the voice. In held in Iris' speckled hands were two cups, roughly made from what might have been clay. She held one out toward the scarred woman, a knowing look in the depths of her periwinkle eyes. "Go on. One drink ain't gonna do you no harm."

Reaching toward the proffered cup, the Chambellan wrapped her fingers loosely over the rough, solid sides of the vessel and lowered her eyes to peer within the reservoir within. It smelled of wine – likely something that her elder brother had supplied. Thyri looked back at Iris and dipped her nose. "Thank you," she said, but she did not drink. Instead, she turned to look at the flames again. "Have you lost anyone important, Iris?"

Bringing the wine to her lips, Iris drank from her cup and then hummed lightly. "Everyone's lost someone important, in one way or another. Don't you think, Chambellan?"

Thyri considered her words silently, eyes narrowed with focus and thought. "Yes," she said at last, and lifted her own cup upwards. She sipped conservatively on the crimson wine and watched as the fire danced and flickered. "I think that you're right."

And, turning from the flames again, the shieldmaiden offered Iris a small, hopeful smile. And not everyone stays lost, she thought with caution. The bonfire reminded her of a different party in a different age in what felt like an entirely different life. It was then that she had reunited with her childhood friend, a friend who had later vanished from her life only to return once more.

Iris smiled back, its spread less reserved than that of her companion. "You know it," she replied with confidence, turning on her heel. "There's some tender fawn meat callin' my name. You drink on up now, you hear?"

Thyri nodded, the smile on her lips remaining, and watched as the charismatic Iris sauntered off toward the spread of meats and vegetables, thinking all the while of love and loss and life itself.

[WC — 456]

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Mate to Merlin Apothecary I Ægishjálmr: Helm of Awe
trouble is a friend
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POSTED: Sat Jun 02, 2018 3:18 pm

Was there anything better than venison? Sucking in the saliva that threatened to pool out of his mouth, Reblin looked upon the spread with eyes that were much larger than his stomach. Holding a section of wood that had been carved into a crude plate in the flat of his palm, the young wolfdog looked upon the selection of meats, trying to decide between the three. He grew up with raw meat, the concept of cooking a foreign one until he met Thyri, but it looked so delicate and tender. He glanced at the young doe. Smoked venison? Reblin wasn't sure he had ever had that. And then there was the roasted buck. He had helped take the thing down, so of course he had to have some of that.

In the end, Reblin took a little of everything and then, deciding it was all too good not to, he took a little more of everything. Swallowing the last of his meal, Reblin sighed in satisfaction and patted his large, overstuffed abdomen. "That was amazing," he said to nobody in particular, running his tongue over his lips.

As night descended upon them, the light from the fire cast its warm glow all around it. Content, Reblin sat and watched it for a while but did not want to get too close. He didn't care for fire, and besides that, it was hot enough to him without having to deal with the heat from the flickering flames. But with her oddly shaved body, there was one person Reblin was not surprised to see near the flames: Mottle.

It seemed that as soon as he caught sight of her, a terrible ruckus started up. It sounded like cacophonous rattling, almost like rocks being shaken within a glass jar, except sharper. Reblin folded his ears against his head and, heaving his overstuffed body from the ground, started curiously toward the terrible music.

Holding what appeared to be a thick, wooden bangle with various metal pieces attached to it, Mottle was shaking the makeshift tambourine in one hand and tapping the hide that was stretched over it with the other.

And then she started to sing.

All off-pitch and undulating, Mottle's singing was so terrible that Reblin couldn't help but start howling along with it. Tipping his head back, the wolfdog howled into the night sky with reckless abandon.

[WC — 400]

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POSTED: Mon Jun 11, 2018 8:14 pm

Celebrations were always welcome in the Court, which prided itself on its trade festivals and tournaments and ballroom dances. Especially following a wicked winter and the funeral of a beloved royal, the distraction was appreciated. It was an opportunity to focus on life and light, and Skoll needed this. He was looking forward to dancing around the bonfire, gorging himself on roasted venison, and of course drinking.


Uh? Commet cela?

Dreyma narrowed her venomous green eyes when Skoll glanced at her. I'm not letting you dump your kids on me so you can get wasted. A small whimper came from the den, and with a look over her shoulder she lowered her voice. It isn't fair to me.

I'm sorry. I thought-- He stopped that thought before it could reach its inevitably stupid conclusion. His kids, right. He pretended that didn't sting a little bit. You're not wrong. He beamed suddenly. Can I take them with me?


Sober! I won't even get up to eat unless someone takes pity on me, a poor fool, a beleagered single father, he whined, and the keening of his voice drew more whispers from the den before a pair of puppy heads peered out. I'll stay outta the way from the crowd. People are gonna want to start meeting them outside of family anyway. He wagged his tail and beckoned with his hands when the children toddled out to greet him.

Dreyma sighed, then looked down with a touch of affection when Oberyn brushed against her leg en route to the father. Whatever.

Skoll swept his offspring up in his arms, planting a sloppy kiss on each dark forehead. Hear that, kids? Time for your first party!

* * *

Yeah, celebrations were always great... but Skoll realized they were a little less fun when he had toddlers underfoot. He sighed, sitting tailor style a very safe distance from the bonfire, currently stroking Issola's head as the soot-and-snow puppy curled up nervously in her lap, a little overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells. A little bolder, Oberyn wandered around the warm lawn and snapped at gnats that whizzed past. Every few minutes Skoll called him back within arms' reach, and luckily his son obeyed.

Percival had taken mercy on him indeed, though, and he was gifted a nice cut of smoked meat that he nibbled on absentmindedly. Bored out of his mind, he wondered if his brats might lure in some better company, when Mottle started making music.

A howl came up from a young wolfdog, and Skoll could not help his instinct to sing too. His voice was long and deep, his chest light with laughter, and despite their preoccupations the puppies stopped, goggled, and tilted their heads up to warble along.

Open for side threads! ;>


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Luperci heliophagy You Tried: A Reward for Doing the Thing SoSuWriMo 2012 - 2019 Champion!
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POSTED: Tue Jun 12, 2018 8:32 am

OOC: Just a short entrance post.. I'm still open for side threads ;)

The new Haskel children weren’t the only youths who would be experiencing their first party tonight. The only large gatherings Cicely and Ajax had hitherto attended hadn’t exactly been by choice. As Abigail twisted a braid into Cicely’s hair – already so long, despite her having gained her Optime form mere weeks ago – she thought of the small child who had run back into her arms as the Court had gathered to learn that Mistral was their new Queen.

She shook herself away from thoughts of that time. It was necessary, now, to move on with life, and this would be a true celebration. Their new Queen was blunt and she knew her own mind perhaps a little too much but she was family.

“Do I have to go?” Ajax whined, a frown marring his silver brow. The Archiduchessa knew his objections were rooted in anxiety; the young boy wasn’t a big fan of crowds or mingling with those he didn’t know, and his Mother could hardly blame him. Abi offered him a reassuring – but firm – smile.

“Yes, you do. We all need a chance to be together - not just the family. It’s how we bond. The Court hasn’t all been together since...” She shook her head again. “Did you know your Father and I met at a ball?”

Cicely turned bright, wide eyes on to Abigail and let out a cooing sound – she, at least, was excited for the occasion. She had demanded Abigail modify and lend her a dress and that she do her hair up, though she was considerably more bossy about it than Abigail would’ve been with Shiloh.

The fire crackled merrily as the trio of snow-whites and fog-greys approached the gathering. Abigail took her time looking at the assembled faces, all bright with good humour as Mottle sang and others joined in. Beyond that, their faces were lit up with hope for the future. Though the celebrations made certain absences much more obvious to Abigail, she thought this celebration was overdue.

She thought she could smile and laugh along with the festivities, for them, no matter how troubled she felt inside.


Let me light up the sky, light it up for you

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Luperci Mate to Kira
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POSTED: Tue Jun 19, 2018 7:22 pm

Clear and loud, the howl that streamed out of his mouth and into the sky carried its notes until others joined in. Reblin's own voice wavered briefly when he heard the sounds of others, and then drifted away into laughter when the warbling songs of children joined them. Tipping down his head again, the playful wolfdog cast his pale eyes about him, searching for the howling puppies. He saw them a safe distance from the bonfire, sitting with their father, and gave his curled tail a jubilant wag.

An extroverted and social creature, the thought had never crossed Reblin's mind not to make his way over to Skoll and the youngsters.

"Keep it up, Mottle!" he barked at the dog with the patchy fur, turning from the cacophonous sounds of her instrument to pad toward the little family. Though the distance wasn't lengthy, Reblin's tongue flopped out of the side of his mouth as though he had just run a marathon.

Slowing, he grinned at the puppies. "Hey Skoll!" he barked, turning mirthful eyes on the soldier. "You brought your kids! Hey kids, my name is Reblin." Squatting, Reblin lowered himself to their level. He patted his distended abdomen, the discomfort of his overstuffed stomach reminding him that he had eaten far too much, and flopped onto his rump with a grunt. "Oh man, I feel like I ate an entire deer," he groaned through a smile.

No regrets.OOC: Skoll/Rebel side thread plz with babus? :D

[WC — 243]

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POSTED: Fri Jun 22, 2018 12:48 pm

OOC: Palo is also open for side threads. What's this bottle she seems to be keeping to herself? ;o

Paloma had brought her own offering: a modest amount of the herbal liqueur she had managed to smuggle out of Eivissa. She hadn’t yet offered it to anyone, though, and she was avoiding putting it out with the rest of the alcohol.

It wasn’t that she was stingy; with affection and honest words Paloma was downright generous. This bottle was one of the final remnants of her old life, of her first home – a home she had thought would be hers forever. It was a greater challenge than she had anticipated giving up that final link.

So, for once, Paloma stood on the fringes of the gathering and watched with an almost glazed look on her narrow face. She heard the crooning of a howl in the evening air enough that her tall ears swivelled and twitched but for the most part the dog was still. Her eyes grazed the mingling canines, her pack mates, and she remembered fiestas and balls in her homeland. Something in her chest twinged.

The Seigneur decided to ignore that twinge. She came alive suddenly, sweeping into the midst of the party. Paloma didn’t want to linger in sadness; she wanted to dance, to remind herself that she was alive and very much connected to this place, even if it was foreign. There was a fierce brightness in her eyes as her hips swayed, her head tilting gently from one angle to the next. She knew she was a good dancer; half the reason for bad dancing was a lack of confidence.

More howls joined the first. Still the bottle of liqueur remained clutched to the dog, the vessel cold and smooth against her chest. Her eyes closed as she danced, a smile stretching across her long muzzle. Paloma recalled dancing in the rain once with a man she had loved; a man she had lost, in the end, but she was wiser for it.

Too wise to allow others to see her lost in sentimental memories. Her eyes flew open and her hands moved to open the bottle.

Salud!” she toasted to the warm air, her grin blazing with good spirits.


POSTED: Sun Jul 01, 2018 12:35 am

This was more like it, Tessa thought. For some reason, she had been thinking there would be more... well, she wasn’t sure what the right word was, so she thought the court would simply be more. So far, there had been a funeral. That was fine, sad, of course, but it wasn’t something she had really cared about. It wasn’t her own family member who had died, and so there was no personal connection to it for her, so she had given little more than a passing thought.

In the time since, Tessa wondered if she had been wrong about joining this pack, but her father had already left, and she certainly was not going to go back to Portland and admit defeat. Besides, she as not actually sure how to get back to Portland even if she wanted to go, which she definitely did not want.

Thankfully there was now a party. A really nice party from the looks of it. Lots of food and drink--exactly what she expected from the pack. Tessa had put on each piece of her small collection of jewelry, along with her dress. She only had the one, which would need to change somehow if these sorts of events happened often. Tessa wanted to impress and stand out, and wearing the same thing all the time would not help her achieve her goals.

With a smile on her face, Tessa found herself a plate of food, eating delicately as she searched for someone who might like to chat. Soon, she thought she would sample the alcohol.
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