Mini Event so it has come to this
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


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#1

Ronin had known this was coming before the official announcement, and it still brought dread low and heavy in the pit of his stomach.

The notice - quickly followed, he might add, by a list of royal decrees that were positively Northaven in nature - spoke of an iron fist, of tyranny, of bigotry in motion. The hunter had to force himself to relax and let out a long sigh when he realised his jaw was clenched tightly enough to make his teeth creak.

Shaking out his clenched fists, he took a few steps back from the notice board, reading it over and over and over again. Enlistment? Monthly reports? Banned from the Greatwood?

"This is bullshit," he muttered, not quite under his breath.

RONIN
Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#2
everytime you kiss me
"What does it say?" The alchemist murmured, standing behind his friend. Although some parts of the world were slowly coming into shadowy focus, reading Zariah's purple script was not something he could do.

But apparently, he didn't need to. Her voice magically spilled from the ink, reciting her new decrees and making the alchemist wince guiltily. "That is one of the things she had me make." Remi explained, shoulders slumped as he ran a hand through his curls.

Had Ronin voiced his thoughts about this being a very Northaven-esque thing to do, the alchemist might have disagreed. At least in Northaven people like Remi rarely needed to be concerned with who was in charge. Their archaic social structure had that going for it, at least.
it's like sunshine and whiskey

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Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
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#3
DEIMOS
Rebellion was at his core: partial to resistance before acceptance, a great portion of him prone to insurrection at even the most meager of topics. But to find himself suddenly drafted into a new army after dragging and liberating others from a damned cave, urged an insistent, old, arcane drum in his reverberations. He’d grown in the munitions of tyranny and treachery, had been trained and vanquished under its beating blows; extended his might and weight into expelling contortions of it, only for their crusades to flicker out and die before sedition could ever rightly spread. Even on his disappeared, chilling throne, once, once, once, he’d chiseled a glacial forbearance, a foundation of revolution on his tongue. It sizzled and seared there now again, blistering, a clench to his jaw, a ticking of a time bomb in the hallowed, hollowed sanction of his soul.

It was a home – lingering along that predator threshold, waiting for the hour, the minute, the moment, to strike.

He was not alone in his disapproval: Ronin and Remi standing there, before the notice board too, reading over the list. “Agreed,” the beast uttered and muttered in return, suddenly shoulder-to-shoulder with the former captain, turning towards Remi to include him in the torrent. His eyes narrowed, his brow arched, the indulgent whisper scathing its way across his lips, hidden and muffled behind teeth – a feral, savage hiss, a rumble of nefariousness. “So what are we going to do about it?”

The Reaper knew exactly what he craved; mutiny and insurgence bleeding a carnivore rapture in his chest.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#4
"That would smell sweeter than this does," Jigano murmured, equally softly as he joined the Guildmaster and the others already gathered. "I had no idea something like this was brewing... Showing that I've been too distracted by the Fae and the Greatwood," he admitted with a faint grimace. "I should have paid more attention to what was going on right underneath our noses."

His left arm was splinted and wrapped, bound up to hang in a sling from his neck. A visit to the Infirmary for a checkup had shown the bones to be set straight and on their way to healing, though he would have given much for a touch - or more - of Vervain's magic to speed it along. He tilted his head at Ronin with a thin smile. "I don't suppose you'd think of changing your guild's name to 'Tyrant Hunters?'" As jokes went it was grim... and not, perhaps, entirely in jest.

Isuma reeped softly at their feet as she wound her way around Jigano and Ronin's ankles, looking up at the men with worried golden eyes as she caught her bonded's worry and bitter amusement. "Or are you going to brush up on your paperwork for these... monthly reports we're supposed to start submitting?"

The Brow rose as Remi admitted to making the ink, Jigano snorting softly when he remembered the alchemist couldn't see his expression. "You helped with this power grab?"

The sly smile he shot Deimos held a great deal of sharpness rather than humor, a sly light glinting in his blue eyes. "And when," he added on to the big man's question.
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

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#5
BASTIEN
Bastien noticed the group of people gathered around the noticeboard and approached, reading over shoulders quite what the notice said. Once he had finished it, he loudly laughed and shook his head.

"My God, I did not know we had a circus!" He clapped his hands together. "What exactly gives this woman the right to declare herself our queen? Did anyone vote? Did she win any contest? What is to stop us from just ignoring her and electing our own leader? Ah, what a fool. It is like a sardonic play." He certainly did not seem to take the threat very seriously.

Still though, as Jigano asked Remi if he helped, Bastien turned too to the young alchemist. "Remi, do not tell me your innocence has led you to be so corrupted. Come now, you must know better."
You standing beside me
I'm going to push back, push back, push back
With every word and every breath
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#6
KIADA
i etch my own face
upon my wicked flesh
It has been a long time since the Harpy has been to a gathering. It had been awhile since her capture, since she met Adam, since she spoke of her tale and woes to the Tulmhainar before being released. And what has she done since then? Mostly kept to herself, aside from visiting Amalia upon the occasion. Of course, Auni upon realizing her return (late because she’s a terrible person that hadn’t gone to find her companion until days later) hadn’t left her side since. But she isn’t aware of what’s happening outside her own doors. Head kept low, remaining in vulture form for a while, she keeps to herself for the most part.

That is… Until she sees the gathering at the notice board and she can’t help but to approach. She sees Ronin first, a man who had been dead yet is alive all the same and her stomach clenches. Then, there’s her fellow Avian from when she flew around the Spire with him and came so close to clutching the side of the obsidian structure. But then there’s Deimos, and her stomach turns because she hasn’t sought him out after everything. There are others of course, the pale haired Jigano and someone else, yet the woman approaches on swift winds in her vulture form to land on the earth beside Deimos and shift into herself.

Auni isn’t far behind, barreling toward the group to nudge Deimos’ leg. And without turning her iceberg eyes to Deimos, she stares and listens to the notice board and grimaces. Kiada has never been one to follow rules, even when she tried to. “No use arguing with one another. Words are just words, we need action.” She grumbles, eyes flicking to Deimos as an apology is sent his way.
i am my own devastating god
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
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Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#7

What were they going to do about it? What, indeed? Ronin cast his mind to Roana, wondering where his fellow former captain was at a time like this, before glancing to Remi and sudden rumours apparently spreading like wildfire before his eyes. "A woman-turned-tyrant took advantage of a blind man with promises she didn't intend to keep, knowing well he couldn't see what she was aiming to achieve," he said, perhaps a touch more curtly than intended.

"There are much, much more pressing matters than shifting the attention onto Remi." A dark expression still on his face, Ronin glanced back at the speaking notice. "It has been some time since I was told I needed paperwork," he agreed with Jigano, before turning to the gathering crowd. "We ought to bring this to Zariah directly, I think. Making orders and decrees... at least one of them mentioned bringing any grievances to 'the queen'."

RONIN
Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#8
everytime you kiss me
The sudden voices around him were disorienting and though it wasn't in Remi's nature necessarily to panic, he felt adrenaline pulse brightly in his system. The words he heard from Jigano were not unexpected (the bard always had been quick to call Remi out on his mistakes, even if in this case it was just the creation of some ink), but Bastien 's criticism felt like an additional slap in the face. Given the unconscious state he'd been reduced to during his time with Zariah, Remi felt as though he'd already been punished for his part in this strange narrative, but to hear someone he considered a friend so brazenly calling him out was wounding.

"Not intentionally." Remi answered the bard, blind eyes low as he cocked his head slightly to the side to catch the voices and positions of those around him. "And...I did not know what this was, at the time. There was no mention of leadership, nor any of this." He added in a voice weighty with defeat.

But as Ronin had indicated, it was not Remi who was on trial for this. And given the hunter's previous social status as well as Zariah's, the alchemist was more than happy to deflect the planning of what might come next to Ronin.
it's like sunshine and whiskey

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Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#9
Amalia
she was afraid of heights
"I don't see a queen here, just an egomaniac playing at power."

Amalia slides in next to Remi, placing her hand reassuringly on the blind man's shoulder without turning to meet his face, Jyoti cooing softly at her side. A rich fury blazes in onyx eyes, unimpressed with the stupid parchment and its stupid proclamation and the whole stupid thing. As far as she is concerned, there is no need to air grievances to Zariah because Zariah has no authority, just a piece of paper and some inflated fools who have decided to worship a demagogue. The group here- this is real power, authority, bonds of friendship and fire and blood forging a society stronger than any kingdom this unknown Outlander might proclaim.

Stepping forward, Amalia slashes out with a leopard's claws and tears the notice off the board, a fierce fury uncharacteristic of the quiet baker evident in her quivering form. Turning back to the assembled crown, the last remaining Chandrakant raises her chin defiantly, fangs apparent beneath her lips, a dangerous feline glint in her eyes. "This is our home, and I won't have some stranger telling us how to our lives, especially if she hasn't done shit to earn any such right." What had Zariah ever done but go into the Spire and release a scourge, trick a blind man into service and declare herself a Queen? Queen of her home, her land, her family, her friends. Amalia is not impressed, not afraid- she is enraged, her cool composure shattered, anxiety giving way to a molten core of emblazoned wrath.
but she was much more afraid
of never flying
Lucas Copperhead


Age: 38 | Height: 6'0 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#10

"She did make a good point, though."

Oooh, but it was good to play devil's advocate again. Lucas prowled through the crowd with his hands buried in the deep pockets of his coat, his hood drawn up to cast his face in shadow. He felt stronger during the day now, stronger than he ever had, but he still wasn't taking any chances.

"I didn't see anyone else stepping up to run this shit show," he drawled. "Hells, she's the first person to actually erase the line between Outlanders and Naturals. What's wrong, are you upset that you didn't get there first? Cry me a river and drop your egos. Read what she wrote again and admit it - some of it makes a lot of sense. More sense than marching off into the forest and... oh, getting kidnapped, was it?"

LUCAS
making work for idle hands
Edrei Launceleyn
the Rapacious


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#11
you and me been catching on like a wildfire
With a slow clap from the background, Edy stalked forward. Once upon a time she might have had friends in this crowd, but not today. Today she was the fucking Left Hand of the Launceleyns and that would always take precedence over whatever pesky feelings she had for some of those assembled.

"Lucas has a point. Everyone keeps bitching and moaning about not wanting there to be an us vs. them shit, but as soon as someone steps up who isn't one of you, you start pulling that card right back out." Edy said, her dark stare fixed on Amalia.

"You wanted to run the show, you should have done it. But you didn't. You sat around, and for 300 years a bunch of your people got killed. From what I can see, this place is a hot mess, but it isn't like there's anywhere else to go. Examples, you say? Oh sure. How about the fact that you all just hide for a fucking week at the enter of winter? Or about how there are fucking bugs that set your crops on fire and no one does anything about it? How about the fact that there's no government, no legal system? That you're all just content to fuck about with your books and your bakeries within a barrier that kills you if you get too close. Think you've done a good job? Well, at the first sign of any conflict, aka our not so friendly fairy-friends in the forest, you all just go traipsing in and get yourselves captured."

Crossing her arms, the Launceleyn shrugged. "You're just upset because you don't want to be told what to do. But you know else who doesn't like that? Kids. But you do it when you know best, and having come from a world a hell of a lot worse than this one, I feel like it isn't a bad place to start."

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Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#12
Jigano raised a brow at Ronin’s curt defensiveness of the alchemist, letting a speculative gaze travel between the two men. ”Well, if all he did was make a little ink, then it’s a simple enough mistake…” The bard shrugged lightly, but his eyes narrowed. ”But you don’t need eyes to see motivations – or to question them. On my world we had a saying: There is no such thing as ‘blindly’ following orders. But… this is not that world, so perhaps things are different here.” He subsided, nodding to Amalia as she stepped to Remi’s side as well, and he tilted his head curiously at her choice. Was the hapless alchemist playing for sympathy again…?

No. No, Remi didn’t do it consciously, he decided with an inward sigh. He just did it, as naturally as breathing. No wonder they had to work so hard to find neutral ground to meet on. The bard flexed the fingers of his broken arm with a rueful smile that vanished as Amalia stepped forward to rip the paper down with a carnivore’s claws. She had grown bold, his heartsister, but it was a timely reminder that the proud and honest baker had never needed to learn subterfuge in the ways of fomenting rebellion and overthrowing corrupt rulers. He flashed Deimos a wry grin, but before he could comment a honeyed voice was prowling through the growing crowd, and Jigano’s smile sharpened like a raptor flexing its talons as Lucas joined them.

”Perhaps because this ‘shit show’ doesn’t need ‘running’?” he tossed back. ”Keeping in mind that she hasn’t erased anything. Saying words doesn’t make a thing true – trust a bard to know that better than anyone.” He glanced at Edrei, suppressing a wince at seeing his friend reduced to the role of a mere enforcer. ”Or did I miss the part where the mighty Zariah also hid during Long Night?” Unlike her braver cousin, the bard didn’t have to say, a flicker of warmth in his gaze for Edy even though she stood on the opposite side of the gathered malcontents.

And Lucas… wherever he fit in to all this.

”The bugs and fires are worked around,” he pointed out mildly. ”Just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. And with such a small group of people, limited government and legality seems to have worked just fine. You do seem to be forgetting that the barrier was raised to keep a goddess confined, which Zariah helped release… How did the Voice express her gratitude for that service, by the way?” He arched his silvered brow, looking around at those gathered. ”And last I checked, everyone got themselves unkidnapped just fine, and inroads were just starting to be made towards finding a more peaceable path forward with the Fae... something else Zariah didn't bother to participate in.”
Edrei Launceleyn
the Rapacious


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#13
you and me been catching on like a wildfire
"Oh no, she certainly as fuck did. The difference is she isn't going to keep doing it for another 300 fucking years." Edy quipped back. "And oh yeah, worked around are they? Not like that big fucking fire that started not long ago, that had I not been there, would have burned down a few fucking acres of this oh-so precious farmland? All I see is a lot of being content with living a shit life that could be better. Only none of these people know it could be better, because they've literally been living in a bubble. There isn't even limited government. There's nothing. Don't forget that that white-haired girl, one of the naturals said the same thing. That there needed to be oversight. This ain't a new idea."

Flashing Jigano a cold smile, Edy shook her head. "I'm not forgetting anything old man. Zariah and crew did what the naturals couldn't do. And if I remember correctly, you raced right into the Spire too. Not my fault you went down instead of up." As for what the Voice had done to say thank you? Edy shrugged. "And that has what to do with anything?"

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Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#14

They have it all wrong.

Not about Zariah - no, they likely have all their accusations right, their emotions in the proper place, etc. Wessex isn’t terribly optimistic that she will turn out to be benevolent, given the wording of some of the decrees and the notice of her power grab. But then neither was the Ascended’s return statement. Some things are better set up in secret, run in the shadows. You can’t topple everyone out in the open, some require work and plans and things better done in the shadows.

Wessex watches.

Cloaked like Lucas, she might blend in with the crowd, watching her friends and acquaintances digest the decrees. Personally, she’d laughed. Multiple times. They’d have to catch her in order to make her obey. Oh, Wessex is angry, she just won’t show it. A calm head and clear eyes will get more done than an angry tongue will - most days.

And yeah, if she could get over the whole sun thing, she sure as hell would try and lead, too. Alas, the similarities between herself and the self-styled queen end there.

But then there’s this little outburst between Amalia and Edy, and with a sigh, Wessex shoulders her way until she’s by the girl, until she can see Edy’s face. Saying nothing to either condemn or condone, she moves to usher Amalia gently away by the hand from the fire mage. Pity. She would have liked to continue fucking the barkeep. “You’ve made your point,” she whispers in the baker’s ear. “Now save your anger for the real fight.”

Because there will be one.

Jigano, however, she leaves be. Let him dig his own hole, he who must always have the last word.

WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts
unsex me here


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