[Mini Event] Greet Your Queen

Emmett stared blankly as Zariah addressed his points, hardly listening. Because he hadn't really brought them up to hear her answers; he'd brought them up to show the feelings of the people around him. He'd brought them up to feel for a second that he was kicking back.

It didn't matter that she had her prepared, condescending answers. What mattered was that she had taken, had ripped the Hollowed Grounds right from them without any care. Did his people really not believe in themselves so much they didn't think they could come up with rules as good as hers? Were they really going to lay down and just let someone declare themselves their ruler? How good her laws were were irrelevant, the way she had come to power would always colour her reign.

He could see the writing on the wall; it would begin with this and end with death, with walls, with bitter rivalry and dark oppression. When he was let go he did not thank her for the mercy, why should he? He didn't usually thank people for not killing him.

Stepping back, he listened to Jigano talk, then Ronin. They both spoke well, he thought, but he was beginning to get sick of talking. Frustrated, he walked near the door so he could leave if things got more irritating, before he did something truly stupid.

Emmett

It burns too bright
I think about my self a lot 'cause it's the only one I've got
I've earned this life
What have I done to earn this life?

NIAMBH

Like one length of kelp in an ever moving ocean, she hovers in their midst; a dragonfly lost amid elephants. The stew of breathing bodies, hot, brimming with emotion, smell even worse than it looks from her angle, stress, excitement, uncleanliness. In truth, she can barely see one-quarter of those present, but upon the faces of those visible, there seems to be building anticipation. And then-

That voice…

Niambhe has heard it before. Her thoughts return briefly to the sign so well guarded and she smiles slyly in the shadows.

The Queen of the barrier-folk talks on tp those gathered, her subjects, and the Fae longs to see the woman’s face also, to know what she looks like. She imagines a tall, slender woman, dusky-toned and dressed well; there is the handle of a bone teacup, nestled between similar, taloned fingertips and a conniving grin carved into the mouth upon which the vessel rests.

While their focus is turned to the front, Niambh finds better viewing from the stiff lip beneath a window pane.

The woman whose voice fills the space above their heads, airing the logic behind the meeting aloud, met a good many of the winged woman’s expectations. She was as lovely as presumed, young (no less than the fresh faces of the Greatwood’s inhabitants), and tall, considering. Guards loom around her, just like they had by the sign and cunning eyes place others too around the room; their attention directed towards the crowd, instead of the speaker.

The Queen invites the majority to air their thoughts.

Nestling herself down against the cool, dusty old brick, the Fae folds her arms across bent up knees to listen.

And learn.

quotey quote
ooo two lines

Sascha stood quiet, listening to what all was said without his normal, happy smile on his face. It was the opposite by now which made the friendly nod from Jigano be replied to something of a try to a smile but that failed mizerably. It was clear that Sascha felt uneased and almost saddened over the replies from Zariah he heard as he had hoped for more from her after their meeting as he just arrived to Caido. She had promised, in her own way, to do what was best for all which all seamed like lies by now. How was any of this good for ALL? It was more like he first had expected more what was good for her, not the people of Caido. He himself had been forced into a place he had long ago sworn to never enter in to ever again. He didn't like to see anyone hurt and an army was the litteral place where people tended to get hurt constantly, at least in Saschas book. And what exactly was he supposed to do in the army anyway? He wouldn't hurt innocent people, he wouldn't fight people just because they were in a different situation then him and he would certainly not be of any help really. What he wanted to do was to help ALL and create wodden goods.. He wanted peace, not war.

As he felt majorly out of place and vonurable by now he couldn't help but to move to Jigano's group in a try to feel more comfortable with people he liked. Not just standing alone and sad by himself. He looked up at Jigano with a bit of a worried face before he turned his head back to Zariah where she sat speaking. He wanted to say something but not quite yet, maybe not ever since people already have touched on some things he needed to hear her replies on. He also knew in a sense how pathetic it must seam for him to lighten his heart and get the words out since he was far from a violent person and disliked violence with all of his heart. But he couldn't really stay quiet either, no matter of how foolish he might be. With those words in his head he took a step forward to speak.

"Why even bother with an army..? Carry out acts of kindness instead, with no expectation of reward, and you will see it gets returned to you. No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted after all. Why even bother building up a powerful empire when it's clear that it causes so much grief? Why is it needed for you to sit on the throne instead of someone that the people have elected themselves? I don't mean to be rude but i feel it's quite clear that this is something that the people of Caido don't really want.. I cannot see this ending well. One should do what is best for ALL of the people and from where i stand this frankly isn't it, Zariah. That's all i have to say really." Sascha ended well knowing that he did not call her queen, highness or any of that sort cause for him she wasn't after all. She just seamed like a person that had stumbled in on the wrong path in life and tried to regain some sort of footing in the wrong direction.

SASCHA

"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

ZARIAH I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation Zariah’s steely gaze turned over to Sascha, and she hoped that Ronin’s questions would be followed with more intelligent, considered questions about the laws and the new structure. Instead, it was more complaining guised as questions about her rule. Her lips curved down in a slight frown, her patience running thin. The Queen gave Edrei a sidelong look, her displeasure clear enough in the glance. ”It must be a lovely world you live in in your mind; one where kindness rules all and all agree on everything.” she said in a clipped tone, staring him down with a look that could kill were it capable. ”You are ignorant of the ways of the real world, the one the rest of us inhabit. There is no such thing as what is best for all the people, only most of the people. What is best for the innocent is not best for the guilty. What is best for the soldier is not best for the citizen, what is best for the man is not best for the woman. There will always be people who feel underserved, and if you intend to spend your life chasing impossibilities, that is your prerogative but I have before me a nation to lead and defend from whatever dangers loom just beyond the elemental storms or seas.” She looked back at the crowd, face deadpanned. ”Now, does anyone have any questions regarding the future or recently passed laws?

Eli

Eli chimed up in his usual gruff way, though smatterings of respect and deference laced his words; having made his way to the area where the questions were being asked as this whole thing got rolling. "Yes ma'am, I have a question and suggestion of sorts." he began...

"Your guards number just a few right now. Loyal to a man, that is plain to see, yet an effort must be made to increase the number, whether by draft or using the newly formed royal army to aid in their duties, until such time as for them to be a self sufficient force. Such numbers cannot patrol the streets with any sort of significant effect in deterring crime, too many areas, too many dark corners. So my question is, do you intend to rectify that in the future so the average citizen may feel safe wandering around at any hour and calmed by the sight of Crown authority patrolling the streets." he finished, dipping his head lightly to her, clearly not many wished to be respectful, and so he rallied to the task.

"Si vis pacem, para bellum." - If you want peace, prepare for war.

Coding base by Sky/Odd!

Amalia I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map I knew that somehow I could find my way back Things go as well as she might have expected, and worse than she might have hoped. She is grateful for those who gather around her, the wall of familiarity acting as bulwark to her ire. Deimos and Ronin, Remi and Jigano, Kiada and Melita and so many more. She smiles to each in turn, feeling a little lighter, a little calmer, a little more secure. The three starmotes that circle her have nestled within her hair, and Amalia is glad for that, not wanting to call attention to herself, content to listen and simmer and scheme and let others more eloquent plan the world. And then Zariah is there, and the girl slips her hand into Deimos', squeezing hard as anger begins once more to boil in her veins. The self-styled Queen cuts an unimpressive figure: not so intimidating, not so serene, no better than any of the rest of them. She remembers her from the night in the woods, the fight by the Spire, the aftermath, and little more: as someone tied into the heart of this community, Amalia has never observed Zariah to be particularly involved. But the invitation for questions and concerns is something, at least, and the baker thinks of Phoebe and grits her teeth, willing to at least pretend she is able to give this charade of a monarch a chance. And oh, does the monarch blow it. One by one she blows away any directed ire. Either with practiced answers or muddling smoke: Amalia cannot make out much substance in the things Zariah is saying, but enough to tell that there is little for some of the retorts. 'I made this forum to speak freely,' in one breath, and 'an audience not an open forum,' in the next. The way she obfuscates is dizzying, infuriating, and Amalia can feel rage like fire rising beneath her skin, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as more and more drivel is spouted from her lips. What gives you the right? she wants to scream, What makes you think that we need your laws, your rules; that we are the same as the place you are from, that the same systems are needed here? Who did you ask, who did you turn to? Do you know our ways, our gods? All these thoughts and a million more: they boil and simmer behind her eyes, leaving her iron, steel, flint, a molten core beneath onyx and sun. Nails like claws curl into her palms, sharp enough to puncture skin; her breath is fast and heavy, her body shakes, and a feline snarl hides behind her lips. How easy it would be, she thinks, to step up there and tear her down, to rake her claws on that pretty face the same way she did the notice, to- 'Walk that line, Amalia Chandrakant. Embrace that mortal folly, and do the work of Life.' With a shuddering breath Amalia sighs, her fists slowly uncoiling, her shoulders growing soft. No, she will not hurt Zariah, will not let her anger win. She has a purpose, a promise, a mission from her God to walk the line of Life and Death and remain upon Vi's side. And while there are more words to be said, the queen makes it clear she does not wish to hear them, an the baker is not bold enough to say them here, in such a crowd. Instead she reaches out mentally to those she trusts, a silent message passed along, knowing it will be spread to the right people. There are things to say, but this is not the time or place: this is a farce, a spectacle, a false Queen's attempt at holding a show. The Hollowed Grounds deserve better than this, and in Vi's name she shall make it so. Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you

KIADA curl your hands into fists, and sharpen your nails. There is so much happening while the Harpy listens and watches, her stomach panging with each and every concern brought up — listening keenly as the woman before them, their Queen stomps them down. She gives painted words, things to fill the air rather than address the problem. She sneers slightly when Zariah responds to Jigano, and when Ronin begins to speak, her eyes shift toward the man. But then others pipe up and Kiada, for a moment, has nothing to say. Nothing, that is, until Zariah speaks as though there were only her world and the Naturals; when certainly some of them had come from places where the leadership had worked, hadn’t been argued against as much as this, and it’s only starting. She inhales a deep breath and after Eli speaks She pauses momentarily before setting her eyes on the woman. “You pretend as though there’s only Northhaven and Hollowed Grounds.” She begins, stepping forward slightly and raising her head toward the monarch. “There are many of us that have come from other lands where the leadership has worked without so much discourse from those being governed, even when it began.” For a moment she recalls the Rift and a unanimous vote to have leaders. She takes a moment to survey the crown before her, each and every one of those belonging to it. “We had diverse cabinets, ones that spoke for everyone for our crowns to make a decision, so that those that are native and foreign each have a voice. I look at your cabinet now and see no diversity, only the same. How can you say you have all of our best interests at heart when you’re only speaking from the experience of your own world?” She asks, arms folding against her chest. “Ruling is about compromise, you cannot please everyone, we all know that. We ask to be represented.” She finishes, stepping back to glance at Rexanna before she looks back at the monarch to see what she has to say. the next time a man tells you to smile, show him bloodstained teeth.

ZARIAH I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation Zariah’s eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on Eli as he stepped forward to speak. Really, he was a breath of fresh air, using his time to speak to ask for an actual improvement and clarification, not guise insults and discontent with half-though through questions. ”Thank you for the suggestion, I do intend to use a small contingent of the standing military being formed as guards, to help keep order and see to the day-to-day safety and security of the Grounds. It will take some time of course but their presence will begin to grow soon.” she said, then looked away to another who raised their voice. A young woman, named Kiada one of her guards whispered in her ear. Her expression remained cool as she heard the woman out. It wasn’t a question, so much as a request…one she didn’t really want to allow but…a small allowance wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like she had to listen to direct counsel after all. ”I see. A thoughtful observation.” she said, pausing for a moment as if to give it thought, though she had already come to her conclusion. ”Rexanna Reyes has already agreed to give me counsel though she as of this moment lacks a formal title, and she does represent a non-Northaven Outlander society. I would welcome a Natural perspective as advisor as well, if it would please those gathered.” she said, glancing at the room. Would any step forward? Zariah is offering to make Rexanna an official advisor and take a Natural advisor as well. If you let the opportunity pass now, it may not come again! The group has 48 hours to decide!

DEIMOS

He stood as a mountain, as a Colossus, as a fortress, gathering those he cared for around him. He was a protective munition, a monolith, wishing he could somehow tuck and hide them away from the incoming bellows and blows; but there were the realities of the present moments, no matter how strained or taut. At first there seemed to be nothing but silence, the air of hushed animosity, the brushstrokes of impending fire, arrival after arrival, all waiting for the same purpose. What was the Merciless going to say? What were the rest of them going to add? He arched his brow only a minute amount when Remi meandered behind them, then rooted himself directly in front of the alchemist: uncertain as to why he was concealing his appearance, but managing to block out a great portion of his form. He could be a shadow too, ensuring the strikes of the sun didn’t scorch or emblazon another.

Then it began: words upon words upon words, a politician’s main weapon, a leader that was needed with no one in the current contingent ever asking, every requiring, her presence on the throne. It sounded like a cobbled-together story, some narrative she’d managed to wield like a bedtime story for children – he held back the scoff, the snort, threatening to billow its way through his chest. Instead, a younger man took to the task of speaking, and though it wasn’t eloquent, it provided the spark, the incitement, the kindling of a number of concerns. Had the venue not been fraught with tumultuous ends already, the Reaper would have clapped for the boy – for his derision, for his defiance, for his bravery, for his audacity. Zariah didn’t seem to find as much enjoyment in it, answers supplied, at the ready, explanations derived in unity, yet not to gather amongst themselves (prevention, to cease rabble and insurrection – the mob at the Spire a likely understanding), a schism in contradictions. Thereafter was Jigano, whom he’d expected would have a host of things to say – but it was the scars, the healing, the lacerations reopened, the wounds resurfacing, that the Reaper paid heed to. It was a cycle all over again, coarse and barbaric, something the Merciless seemed to thrive within, grow along, diving straight into the fathoms of their prior mishaps. Zariah’s response was utterly ridiculous and condescending, allowing Emmett to speak for a lengthy period of time, but not Jigano – he clenched his jaw and said nothing, in the refinement of naught and endless diatribes, discourse that went nowhere, ringing around and around with no designation. Lead them to prosperity as they all simmered and seethed. Right.

At the very least, the information Ronin managed to embark from their Queen made some plausible sense – though she clearly still didn’t understand the meaning of enlistment. This was a draft, plain and simple – ensuring everyone signed their names under penalty of the law was never a voluntary notice.

Then there was some other poor fool, wishing for happiness and joy, exuberance and wonder, kindness and benevolence. The warrior nearly shook his head, but remained stoic, the reticent features maneuvering back into marble, hiding the wince when Zariah’s words came back to haunt the unknown soul.

He could feel Amalia’s hand in his, squeezing, likely anchoring herself as much as him, and he didn’t know what to do, what to say, that would add or disengage from this hell. Kiada, bold and audacious, did the speaking for all of them, and his chest clenched with something like pride as she insinuated her thoughts. His world had those cabinets, those positions, for those with talents in spying, in battle, in healing, in piety, in engineering – but he wasn’t offering those regards to the Merciless.

In response – there came the advisor positions. His eyes flickered back over to Rexanna, and he didn’t know whether to shake his head, grind his teeth, or do nothing at all – uncertain about any Natural stepping forward, willing to take up the role, willing to gnash and hold their tongue, willing to embark down the unknown road, but sure to be lined with rubble and ruin. One name came to mind, and though she wasn't present, likely off doing her own things, she might've been capable of upholding exactly what these inhabitants required. "I nominate Wessex to be a Natural advisor, if she is willing."

i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky

RORY

'This afternoon I'mma have a party for all my subjects!'

Well shit lady, some of us are busy. Some of us have lives. Some of us can't drop everything just because you decide that a couple of hours notice is all that's needed.

Like they were all just useless vagrants, sleeping on street corners and doing nothing but begging and thieving, and—oh wait, apparently she actually did think they were all lawless murderers, why else feel the need to impose her merciless leadership upon them all? Why else feel the need to interfere so bloody much in their lives, and in ways that honestly were either inconsequential to politics (but not culture), or just.. bloody dumb.

Rory had no desire to go into the details of it. He'd been over it five thousand times before, and had accidentally set Esaia's tail on fire once because he got too angry and wasn't very used to being able to create fire. Fortunately, he'd only burned off some hair, and a couple of carrots later the gray pony had forgiven him.

But, here's some things Rory wanted to avoid: Zariah's attention, more trouble, trouble, even more trouble, and let's see, more trouble and interference.

So he'd come, pushing some tasks aside and slinking in the back. And what he heard was.......................

Frankly, he had no words for it, and he found flames flicking along his hands at one point. (That's on you, Edy—of course he could create fire anywhere within his sphere of influence, but he's seen your hands burn, he's seen you hold the fire around them, he's seen you throw it, so he fits his newfound power into this known mold.) Quickly he extinguished it. He might feel like setting something on fire, but not the Temple. That structure belonged to him—to them, those who had lived here far longer than a year. He might hate being inside it, but he wasn't going to burn it down.

Point of interest: the talk about the army. Sane questions from a good man.

The rest was a memory-blur that had him so angry he felt like chewing wood, but in the end he did that thing he was exactly supposed to not be bloody doing—getting attention.

"I second the nomination for Wessex," he said, his voice rougher than usual, his blue eyes dark though his face was composed. "I don't know where she is, though, but should she decline, I'm willing to take on the role."

He didn't want to, but it was that thing again: doing uncomfortable things for the right reasons. No one else was speaking up.

Rory had never wanted power, and he still didn't, but this was a chance they couldn't throw away.

as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.

There had been a few murmurs of agreement when the Palmer boy stood up and said his piece, a couple of claps of approval; poor lad, he lost his folks, but he was shaping up to be a fine young man.

And it got a lot of them thinking, whispering and nudging themselves, sharing looks and listening intently to what was being said. What really started to grind their gears was how that little princess came in here and said that there way of living was bad. Like it had been their fault that they’d been encased in a barrier which screwed with the seasons and bred mutants and kept their crops on the verge of failure. Like they had neglected things simply by trying to survive. It didn’t sit right. It was an insult. It only highlighted the differences between Naturals and Outlanders, and one brave woman finally stood up. Gray-haired, firm, and used to running her own farm, she looked straight at Zariah with nothing short of contempt.

“I’m Alice, and I didn’t ask you to be Queen. Neither did my neighbors. Or their neighbors. Or theirs. You talk like we’ve done this to ourselves, like we’re children who need to be led, but you don’t know jack shit about life here. You came at the tail end. You know nothing about our will to survive, how we’ve had to… to… adapt to the problems that being inside the Barrier caused. We did that on our own, and we did it while facing famine, fucked up weather, mutant animals, LongNight monsters and disease.” The woman counts the hardships on her fingers, and by the time she’s reached the end of her list, those around her have also stood up to show their support for what she says.

“So what I’m hearing is a small group of people, much smaller than the number we got, have said because you got magic, you can make the rules. Well we know lots of people who have magic, what if we want someone else to make the rules, hmmmm? You got bullies at your beck ‘n call, and we got people who are just trying to figure out what life without the Barrier means. Protection is just an excuse. And the way you talk, young lady, shows your ignorance. Your order isn’t needed. Your ways aren’t ours. A Natural advisor ain’t gonna change that. Go back to Northaven, or wherever you came from.”

A loud round of applause follows Alice’s little speech, as more stand in support of their views. And they are looking at Zariah with very unhappy faces.

"Hey Alice." Edy drawled, crossing her arms and taking a few steps forward. Her head tilted condescendingly to the side as she offered the random woman a honey-sweet smile. "Let me make sure I get the gist of what you're saying. You think because you've all had it hard and struggled and boo hoo'd inside of the barrier longer than we have, that that's an excuse to just keep things the way they are?" Edy raised a brow. "You wanna know why Zariah is in charge now? Its got nothing to do with magic and everything to do with actually having the balls to make a difference. Since I've been here, only a year I'm sure you'll point out, I've seen people be murdered, people die during LongNight, theft, slander, vandalism. That one over there—" Edy pointed to Remi, narrowing her eyes even as he tried to hide behind Deimos, "—almost killed a guy. And what did you all do about it? Oh right. Nothing. One of his friends threw him in a pit and we all just shrugged about it. You're right on one account though. Our ways aren't your ways. That's precisely the point. So either you all get out your pitchforks and drive allllll of us out of town, or you deal with the fact that you gotta share your sandbox with us. In which case, no more of this "our ways" and "you're an outsider" bullshit. We're all in this together now, only difference is, we seem to be the only ones who can see what a fucking mess this place is. Not that it's your fault, since this is the only life you know. But it isn't for us. So you wanna say fuck it to having representation because your pride is too big? Fine. But you can get right off your high horse right now, because at the first opportunity to actually collaborate and try to get along, all you did was grandstand for a bit and then try and take your ball and go home." All the while Edy's voice remained even, cold, mischievous. Glancing over her shoulder at Zariah and Pet, Edy smiled slightly, before looking back to the crowd. "That goes for all of you. You wanna see Zariah off the thrown? Why? Not like any of you wanted the job before. So instead of just stomping your feet, why don't you actually either agree to some representation, offer some actual ideas and suggestions? " Edrei You know I talk too much Honey, come put your lips on mine and shut me up

“Says the person in power beside her. You’re related, right?” Alice scoffs. “We didn’t do those things. You did those things to each other. And ya should have kept the doors shut and been quiet, like we said to do. Look around you. If more people are angry ‘n unsettled about something than not, it’s unlikely that they’re all wrong. The problem is probably her. It ain’t growing pains. It ain’t wanting things to stay the same. It’s a feeling about her and my gut ain’t ever been wrong. The Merciless? Pshh. Why the hell would we want someone ruling over us who calls herself The Merciless?”

She shakes her head and a few who know her nod in agreement. No, her gut is usually spot on. It is known. Speaking more to the people around her than anyone else, the old woman says, “It ain’t representation. It’s trussed up to look like it. ‘Course she’ll say we didn’t want to help, we had an opportunity, but working with makes her legitimate. So as far as I’m concerned, she can call herself Queen all she wants, but me ‘n my farm say she ain’t ours.” Alice crosses her arms over her bountiful chest and with a decisive nod of her head, gathers up her kin in order to leave. About twenty or so additional people pick their way over and through the crowd, making their way to the exits: a small, but rebellious group.

As Alice continues, Edy merely grins. "You know how I can tell you're talking out of your ass, Alice? Because instead of actually replying to what I said, you're just saying shit that doesn't matter. Yes we're related, but if you think that changes anything that I said, you need to pay a little more attention. Same goes for whining about the title." Rolling her eyes again, Edy shakes her head. "And cut the shit. I've seen your people murder each other, steal, break into places. Stop making this seem like this place was a paradise before we got here. I've heard plenty of stories about what you lot have gotten up to in the past 300 years." Then, with a grin, she added: "And if you got a problem in your gut, feel free to see a healer instead of telling me about it." As for the rest of it? Alice was right about one thing: this would be the day they pointed to as the one where Zariah offered to have naturals on her council. The day they all basically said fuck you. "Well, you can take your lack of consensus bullshit with you on your way out." Shrugging towards Deimos and Rory, her eyes flit back to Alice. "Since it seems like you don't quite have the popular vote you think you do." Waving sarcastically as Alice and her crew left, Edy merely rolled her eyes again, growing more annoyed by the minute. Edrei You know I talk too much Honey, come put your lips on mine and shut me up