On your backs was this kingdom made


POSTED: Wed Aug 14, 2013 10:17 pm

Silvano Sadira
now the old king is dead, long live the king

Image (c) Square Enix

It was a little bit hot underneath the cloak he had donned. The red cloth restricted the air around his body, but the King had to admit that he gave all the impression of royalty with his stance and the clean clothing. He wore no shirt, as always, though the white bandages peeked from where the cape parted. His face bore no bandages, for the moment, so that he might be able to see better and unhindered. His face ought to have been covered still, but the mark upon his face was good proof for the valor of him whom they honored today.

For so long, little had happened in the Court and everything had been at peace. It had been far too quiet. A ceremony like this would do wonders to get everyone together, as well as assure them all that their safety was well in hand. And the Sadira did have a love of pomp and ceremony; it all felt like it was straight out of an old fairy tale story. Silvano had a sword, his of course, though the King had very little true training with it. He had it sheathed but his hands were on the pommel to keep it upright. He looked at their congregation, a little smaller than he was used to but still a good sized group.

"Not many of you might know what happened in our quiet Court," the King began, voice echoing in the amphitheater's open spaces. "We harbored a traitorous man whom some called friend, but showed his true colors when he attacked my son." Emerald eyes darted toward his young son, who sat with his mother. He was bandaged too, though his wounds far less severe. "Today we honor one of our own, who rose against his friend to defend his King and his home, who has shown growth from youth to adult, and displayed the prowess of combat expected by our warriors." Silvano paused, arm moving out of his cloak, swishing it behind him. "Skoll Haskel, it is time to take up the mantle of Knight for your pack." His hand gestured before him, for the soon-to-be Knight to kneel before his lord.

This thread is NON-MANDATORY. This means you do not have to post but it would be awesome if you did (don't you want 10 free points?). @Meghann, stick Charlotte in wherever, i'll leave it vague for you.

Now, I've learned it's better living in the moment. Enjoy youth, cause it doesn't last.

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Cour des Miracles
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POSTED: Wed Aug 14, 2013 10:46 pm

It was silly how he had been waiting for this moment for so long, dreamed of it, obsessed over it -- and now that it was here, Skoll Haskel was just tired.

Walking to the amphitheater that, a long long time ago, he had helped construct, was a difficulty in itself. He wandered past the rows of seats and took his place upon the main stage, looking across at the King. He smiled, wearily. He was covered in scabs, most hidden beneath his thick fur, but the wound on his throat was raw and ugly. He wore his arm in a sling, and his movements were cautious so that his broken collarbone was not jostled more than it needed to be. He was proud of these things, as much as they discomforted him. They were his ceremonial cloak, proof of his right to stand here.

Others filtered into the clearing, and Skoll glanced at them briefly -- comrades all, friends, family. He caught sight of Pascal's mismatched eyes gazing up at him and favored the youth with a smile, one prince to another, and was rewarded with an awkwardly shy one from the yearling. And then he turned back to Silvano as the man began to speak.

In spite of his exhaustion, his heart began to beat -- rapid, powerful pumps, shooting blood quickly through his veins. He trembled briefly, but stepped forward and knelt down before his King, dipping his head and closing his eyes. He felt the tap of the sword on his shoulders.

Skoll Haskel rose as a Knight, and exhaled a shaky breath before the tiniest of grins lit his golden face.

He supposed that Vigilante and Ayita would have been proud.


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POSTED: Wed Aug 14, 2013 11:14 pm

(340) I am guessing this is while Rio is still missing. I'll update this if that is incorrect. :3

As with pretty much everything, her uncle's knighting ceremony had a dull gray shade to it in the eyes of Valencia Catori because her mother was missing. Not having Rio in her life had literally drained away all of the girl's spirit. While there were brief sparks of life in her, the exuberance she had displayed so frequently when everything was right had faded. The ceremony was important to the pack - and specifically, her own flesh and blood - so she would have normally been thrilled to attend. She loved pomp and ceremony, because they spoke so much of the Court and its beautiful ways. Its genteel and polite ways that had shaped the very center of her soul. None of that mattered to her, though, because her mother wasn't there. The wolf that had taught her all about that wasn't here and she was still recovering from that.

As she stood there, she took in each detail. The wounded body of her King, the battered physique of her uncle and Knight, the boy that seemed to hover by his mother's side with injuries as well. What had happened? she wanted to ask, but didn't have the voice for it. In fact, it had been several days since she had voiced anything. Her throat remained still even then as she stood. If the Butlers were there, she would stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Estella, taking small comfort in the touch of her best friend's fur against hers. If Essie wasn't there, she would linger near to her father and possibly even beg to be picked up, despite the fact that she was starting to get too large. When her uncle was knighted, she would smile a watery thin smile of congratulations and wag her tail very slightly. That was the extent of what she could feel for this joyous event. Later she would remember it more clearly, with more fascination, but for now she just waited for it to be over so she could curl up and nap at home again.

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POSTED: Thu Aug 15, 2013 5:03 pm

A pack calling. It wasn't all that new on the dog, as his father constantly held meetings to celebrate the packs prosperity or to give out warnings. Copper could remember stand firm behind his father, never being taken note of or even acknowledged during the meetings. Perhaps it was a reason why he left, to get out of being his fathers shadow. Copper had mistakenly seen his need to leave his old pack as an overall distaste of packs in general. But that wasn't fact. What drove the dog away was the pressure of becoming someone he wasn't, a leader. Being in the Court, Copper knew that the likelihood of becoming anything remote to a leader was impossible, which was what compelled Copper to join.

The king called a meeting, and Copper casually made his way to the place of conversation as leisurely as everyone around him. He glanced around, taking notes of faces and their general expressions. So, it was a more serious meeting. Copper lifted his back from it's informal position, letting his hands lie together behind him. The king stood forward, highlighted by his dominance and gait. The dog glanced to his bandages, wondering if the king was making a good recovery. If not, then Copper felt an urge to bring himself upon the royal male, as it was to the dog's utmost need to serve his pack well. That including the kind king who welcomed him to the Court with open arms.

Silencing his mind, Copper listened, as did the pack that swarmed around him. So, the pack had a rough time, words of traitorous and attacked emerged more in Copper's mind. No one ever bothered to reek harm on Copper's old pack. They were simply a lonesome, almost comical pack of labradoodles. Surviving from trade and easy hunting. But, in a more populated area such as these lands, conflict was bound to erupt at some point. Before he was aware, Copper's eyes looked to a light, golden wolf step forward. Copper smiled, a reward for good work, so it seemed. If Copper ever met Skoll, perhaps he would exchange his congrats then. Copper swallowed and relaxed slightly, allowing the brave male to continue with his reward. The dog wondered if he would ever be given a chance to be brought to the front and be gifted with such thanks. But it was almost a law to medics. They would appear in the battle, perhaps save lives, but only to hide in the shadows of the warriors and knights who fought in the fields ahead.

Not that Copper minded much. It was beginning to dawn on him that the golden dog always served better as a shadow.
"It is not our abilities that show what we truly are... it is our choices."

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POSTED: Thu Aug 15, 2013 8:43 pm

((387)) --


Now that the pups were older, it was easier to get involved with pack ceremonies and other callings. His youngest daughters, Vivienne and Silvia, were now old enough to be shown about, and though they would not understand what all was taking place, it was an adventure nonetheless, something all the Butler children had seemed elated by experiencing.
It wasn't a bad idea to get to know others in the pack anyway, for as sociable as the aussie dog was, he'd yet to get the chance to meet many others. The shepherd wished for the chance to interact, especially when the ones he had come acquainted with proved to be fine individuals.

And the main reason he'd arrived was that one of those pleasant beings met on a simple trip around the training grounds was being granted an honour the merle could see nobody else deserving more. Though he wasn't particularly close to the golden male, having only sparred with him and maintained brief, vague conversation, the cockney already had a high level of respect for such a model gentleman and passionate defender.
Witnessing the battered king and his unfortunately beaten son (a sight that had the canine's blood boiling, imagining one of his own sons in the poor pup's place) was a wake-up call to what exactly could be stirred up without notice. This was why he was training... This was why sometimes, it was necessary to fight.
Harvey smiled sympathetically as the hero arrived, tattered as well, but wearing his wounds with remarkable modesty. It felt exhilarating just to be in the male's company, amongst a savior when all the merle had associated with before were criminals. This was why Cour des Miracles needed members like Skoll Haskel.

Trying to satisfy every yipping plea to be toted up in order to see over the crowd, as well as keeping an eye on the more troubling of his brood, the Englishdog couldn't help but release a chuckle. He'd be sure to at least pull the former squire aside to give him congratulations and wish him good luck in his future. Maybe there would be a time when he could be the one knelt before his king, but for now, he could only hope to be as grand a warrior as the new knight of the Court.

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POSTED: Sat Aug 17, 2013 1:04 am

Aoves readily joined her mate at the ceremony donning her creamy shawl and green necklace, and as always, with the colorful procession of their children in tow. She came to rest beside Harvey, in her peripheral vision noting as Estella slipped away to stand by her friend Valencia, even though now on two legs rather than her previous four. It was gladdening to see, as the dark dam often worried for the younger girl; she was of the belief that every child fared best with a mother's guiding hand.

She personally had guided her children very specifically for the current event; all were presentably displayed, Estella wore her amethyst circlet and skirt for the occasion, her sons were well groomed regardless of their complaints, and her babes recently fed and content - or at least, content for the most part. With her youngest still too fragile to travel far, Estella carried the quiet Silvia in her arms, and Vivienne was in the arms of her mother, the puppy wiggling ceaselessly as she tried to spy all that was taking place. "Lemme see, maman, lemme see!" The child grumbled as her little head flipped and turned, body twisting as she craned for a peep of the action, even though she did not know what the ceremony entailed.

Aoves did know however, and felt a sense of respect and pride, knowing that Skoll had possessed the courage to defend what was good. Though not directly wishing for her own to ever experience such trials, she did hope that they'd come to value the virtues that the ceremony honored. She watched calmly and focused upon her or trying to, but often being forced to dip her lips closer to the scarlet babe, and attempt to calm her with soft coos meant to hush her.

The youth simply squirmed to turn to her father. "Fahvur, I wanna seeeee." A puppyish growl of irritation rattled quietly in the girl's throat, but her mother gave her a look so calm and focused, but so blatantly sharp that even Vivienne was silenced. Aoves was too short though, and the place where her child was held to her hip was too low, and Vivienne made her dissatisfaction well known by sulking quite obviously but in silence as the ceremony progressed.

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POSTED: Wed Sep 04, 2013 10:37 am

When the call came Alder put his chores aside and left the stables. It was clear where he should go, the walk not long and the distance not far. The scene was gathered before he could find his place at the back of the crowd. Blue eyes looked up, watching their King as he stood in crimson robes beside the golden son of their past royal couple. The sight of Silvano before them, and not Vigilante, was becoming less surprising. Now as Alder examined their leader there was no surprise to see him, but the expectation. Vigilante was now only a passing thought, and the faint touch of sadness.

The group stood in silence, watching the ceremony play out. Skoll knelt as their King desired, his name spoken and the sword swung gently to touch each of his shoulders.

The happening that caused the ragged and injured forms of King and newly-dubbed Knight were unknown to the Marshall, who had no doubt been tucked away in the stables training, or mucking or planning the next fowling.

He smiled as Skoll rose, glad for the gold warrior… seeing the effort that he had exerted to keep their kingdom safe on his form. It was obvious that he deserved a promotion, and Alder was glad that he could witness his rise from Squire to Knight.

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POSTED: Tue Sep 10, 2013 11:03 am


Standing beside Silvano, Charlotte remained silent, acutely aware of the way the fabric of her dress clung to her fur. It had been a wonderful thing to find the locked rooms on the highest floor with pristine dresses wrapped in plastic, and some had been able to be altered to fit her. Others had been given to the Duchess Chance and her daughters, for they were all of varying sizes to her own. The formal dresses were certainly more suited to important Court affairs such as this, but she would not deny they felt bizarre to wear, as she usually chose not to wear human clothing at all.

There had been many a time in her life previously when blood had been shed and she had felt changed; now, in the wake of death, Charlotte felt only relief. Her brother was safe, as was the King and his son, and the Court was free once more of evil it seemed. The Queen had not taken the time to know Skoll's dog friend—or what seemed to be a friend, but was clearly harboring something too dark for the kingdom of Miracles—but she did not pretend to think that she would have known he was a problem. She could not claim to have a better judge of character than Skoll, certainly, and he had been fooled.

The chocolate-hued wolfdog could not push away the beaming smile as she looked at her brother, now a Knight of Miracles, in spite of the darkness that led to this.

Charlotte Haskel
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