Mini Event I'll love you just as long as time allows
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

Age: 41 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10 - Int:
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
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#1
and i'm a sorry sight to see
except the fact that you love me
Well, the day was here.

Bastien had asked her, had planned it out to the final detail, yet still found himself nervous when he woke, the knowledge that he was about to become a husband thrumming about his head as he got dressed. He knew he was ready - he would not have asked, had he not been, but it was still quite the concept. He who had always been the free lover, the wandering spirit and the personification of hedonistic desire...

...But, that wasn't really him anymore, was it? It had been who he was in Venice, when he had been in a world so superficial and material he had bent himself to fit it. Caido had moulded him anew. It was a far more sentimental place, a genuine one for both the best and worst; it had formed Bastien with it into someone who meant things far more, who learnt lessons...who fell in love.

He could not have imagined prior to being in Sanctuary feeling the way about anyone the way he did for Rexanna. Yet when he thought of seeing her in her dress he had to close his eyes and breathe out to try and still his excitement. He would try to make sure she had a similar response, of course - there had never been a rule written that only the bride could be beautiful. He had asked, with detailed drawings and descriptions, for a seamstress in the market to make him a wedding outfit like the one his father had worn. Updated, for his more modern tastes and with a few added accessories, but still similar enough to be a call to the past.

Rexanna had always looked beautiful in gold and she knew it. He hoped then, that he would match her even just a little; their shared appreciation for aesthetics was something they bonded over, after all. The field where the wedding was to happen itself was decorated, too, for the dusky time; lanterns, hanging decorations that caught the light and bounced it around, frost on the grass sparkling as if it had been a plan. Looking at it, he felt he had made his masterpiece.

Waiting for Rexanna, he went to stand at the top of the aisle, looking over the field and thinking of how fortunate he really was, in both superficial and meaningful ways. As each person came, he would smile wide and greet them, still a host at heart.

---
Feel free to arrive and take your seat!
and all I lost along the way
Is all I had to lose to find this day
BASTIEN
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
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#2
PHOEBE
Oh. But really, would it be a wedding if something didn’t go horribly, horribly wrong?

She watched from brush left over from the Leafchange harvest, blackened eyes watching alongside a silvery set. They landed on Bastien, and immediately her blood boiled. Evil Ascended. Horrible, wretched man. Her fingers dug into the ground where she crouched, her dress stained with blood and black blight, her shoes long since lost. Dirty blonde hair hung in mats, blood and black stains coating it like every other part of her person. The midwife was hardly recognizable in both appearance and behavior. Which of course, she was about to prove.

From the brush she sprinted towards the decorated area, fueled by her rage, as her dragonling Pim took flight. She shrieked as she neared, running right into the line of chairs and destroying their perfect rows in her rampage. She grabbed a few, tossing them up towards the groom and the arbor, before falling to her knees with a wretch. Right in the middle of the aisle she vomited a thick, black substance laughing maniacally as she did so. Not caring that it was a vile substance she picked it up and threw it about at any pretty thing her eyes landed on. Pim, for his part, added to the chaos with rainbow lightning, breathed down onto the pretty decorations and chairs and arbor, scaring everything black.

Pleased with the mess she had made of Bastien’s pretty day, Phoebe ran off, cackling madly.
When dark creeps in and eats the light
Bury your fears on sorry night
For in the winter's darkest hours
Comes the feasting of the Vours
No one can see it, the life they stole
Your body's here but not your soul
Table Code by Sky!
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
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#3
for 1000 nights i've been a restless soul
Remi came early, carting alcohol, Bastien and Rex's surprise, and other decorations that he'd made the night before. Not sleeping much lately, the alchemist had plenty of time on his hands. Aoife wasn't with him, the wedding being far too cold of an outdoor activity and far too late for the young girl. So it was just Remi and Isla who approached.

What they saw, or what they caught the tail-end of seeing, was a blight-mad Phoebe and her crazed companion. Grinding his teeth together, the alchemist dropped what he was carrying with ice in his shattered stare. It wasn't like him to be so quick to anger, but he was at this wedding alone given Ronin was still blight-mad somewhere in the woods. And this wedding so different than his own, still reminded him painfully of the vows of forever he and Ronin had made, and how quickly it was all going to end.

In a mad frenzy, the alchemist worked. Transmutation magic to fix the broken decorations, pulling them from blighted-black to their original pristine shapes and creation for what couldn't be repaired. Telepathy for the chairs, hurtling them back together with perhaps less precision than they normally had, but of course time was of the essence. Finally, earth magic to cover the piles of black bile Phoebe had left. Conveniently, the memory snow reasserted itself over the new earth leaving the ground as pristine as it once was.

Though Remi's magic usage was near endless, his mental stores were not. Waving vaguely to Bastien as stars twirled before his eyes, the alchemist slumped against a tree. His eyelashes fluttered wearily as he tried to steady his rapidly beating heart. Somewhere far away Ronin's thundered leaving the alchemist to wonder if perhaps he and Phoebe were celebrating her mischief.



Remington fixes everything and goes to pass out under a tree <3
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

Age: 41 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10 - Int:
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
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#4
and i'm a sorry sight to see
except the fact that you love me
When Bastien first saw Phoebe running towards him, he thought she was just very eager to get to the wedding. Odd, given she had never seemed fond of him (though she was a friend of Rexanna's, he seemed to recall); then he noticed how she was dressed, how wild her eyes looked.

Then...before he could even say anything, she was throwing chairs and knocking things over. His mouth hanging open, Bastien watched as she knelt and vomited. Was this the Blight...? He did not know. But clearly, something was wrong - had he been back in Venice, she would have been considered a demon, something of another world. Revulsion ran through his veins as he watched her.

When she ran he stepped forwards, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the substance Phoebe had spread around. Well. He was not one to cry or become violent for a spoiled scene, but he felt the beginnings of a whine come up in his chest (it was probably fortunate there were not people around for him to perform a tantrum to).

Looking up from his tantrum-that-wasn't, he saw Remi arriving with Isla. For a moment he braced himself, waiting for more chairs thrown and vomit on the ground. But luckily, it seemed the alchemist was inspired to the opposite. Bastien watched him work with a smile, rushed forward to clasp his hands with gratitude as he saw his wedding returned to it's former glory. "Thank you, my wonderfully talented friend. Rest as much as you may need."

Barely even ten minutes, and his wedding had already been destroyed and reborn. His bride had not even arrived; they had agreed a fashionably late entrance would be wonderfully dramatic. Returning to his spot at the top of the aisle he waited for more guests to appear.
and all I lost along the way
Is all I had to lose to find this day
BASTIEN
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
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#5
They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Loren was a part of the ceremony, so he too, was earlier than most. However, all he caught was the fleeing figure and the sight of the beautiful wedding setup destroyed through spite. Even as he watched, though, the mayhem and damage started repairing itself. Or at least that’s what it seemed at first: the summoner soon spotted Remi, and understanding dawned. It one of the most impressive displays of magic the Launceleyn had ever seen—even more so than the alchemist’s miracle in the woods—as the other man put everything back to rights. Indeed, even the snow reasserted itself across the entire area. Loren’s eyes had widened at that, since the control, energy, and focus it would’ve taken to move all the powder must have been enormous. Of course, seeing how Remi slumped against the tree after caused the summoner's concern and attention to shift fully to the alchemist.

Bastien was the only other person there, and the groom was already standing next to Remi, so Loren headed over to both of them. Catching the tail end of Bastien’s words, the summoner smiled at the alchemist. ”Thank you.” Seeing the state that the alchemist was in, the Launceleyn felt his own hand come up, almost unbidden, glowing a soft sky blue from his healing magic. Though he had a part to play later during the ceremony, one spell hopefully wouldn’t tax him too badly. His hand came to rest on the alchemist shoulder; though the summoner didn’t know if general fatigue could be cured, he let his magic course through the other man, easing what maladies it could.

Astra, for her part, saw the unicorn accompanying the alchemist and immediately trotted over, charmed and delighted to have made a new friend. Seeing that, Loren grinned, then gave the alchemist’s shoulder a friendly and gentle squeeze before releasing it. Turning to Bastien, the Launceleyn realized he hadn’t greeted the groom properly yet. ”Bastien! You look wonderful. Thank you for inviting me, and for putting all this together.” Seeing that, despite Remi’s heroic efforts, some of the decorations and chairs were slightly out of place, the Launceleyn nodded at the two men, then went over to make the rows straight and the arrangements as beautiful as they should be.
LOREN
Caleb Jorva
Teacher

Age: 31 | Height: 5’11” | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#6
Caleb
Very little is needed
to make a happy life

He didn’t know, well...anyone, really. He didn’t fully understand social customs, nor did quite understand people just showing up to a wedding. Caleb had never thought about weddings as really anything. Never before did he attend one, and never did he even dream of having one! Even now, the latter didn’t even go through his mind.

The young man took in the sight, like something out of a fairytale with the glistening snow and lanterns around the field. Truly a beautiful scene; one he made sure to commit to memory.

Of course he knew who was getting married, but he didn’t actually know them. It wasn’t difficult to spot the groom, though. A handsome man with fine clothing standing at the end of the aisle, and the shepherd simply nodded cordially if he made eye contact with him. It was his wedding, and surely Bastien had plenty on his mind that didn’t include small talking with a guest that he didn’t even really know past perhaps passing each other on the street. If that.

He saw Remi beneath a tree, which brought a quick smile to his face, remembering his interaction with the man holding a baby. It seemed like forever ago.

Then, his eyes found the shape of the man he had met in the Underground, and seeing him better now under the lantern light rather than the glowing horns of the luxere, Caleb felt his chest tighten, his mouth going dry. Gods, it was ridiculous! He wasn’t even looking his way: he was talking to the groom.

His attention was stolen then by the luxere and the unicorn, and with a small grin, the shepherd approached easily. “Hey, beautiful,” he said softly, his hand out to the deer to see if she would recognize him sans fur.

It’s all within yourself,
in your way of thinking
JORVA
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 34 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 25 - Int: 1
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
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#7
SAMUEL
i am the ocean, crawling madly at your moon.
and with one wanton whoop —
Sam felt nervous about leaving his home at all at the moment, but Remi would be at this event. At least that meant he had some promise of safety. He had seen the full force of the man's power before and he knew it had grown since then.

So with that in mind, he decided to attend the wedding of his fellow Ascended. It seemed the right thing to do, even though he didn't know either of them too well; he hoped it might help their race if the people could see them be in love and be happy. Be normal. Not that much about this wedding was normal, he thought, as he walked into the field. It was so extravagant. Far different from how he hoped some far off ceremony of his own might be.

Silently he took a chair at the back and keeping an eye on Remi under the nearby tree, he waited for it all to begin.
— i melt into a sycophantic soup,
& all that's left to do, is giggle, fawn, and swoon.
Lucas Copperhead


Age: 38 | Height: 6'0 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 4 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 7 - Int:
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#8

It wasn't the norm for Lucas to attend these kinds of events. Fiat Lux, the Festival of Lights, Longnight preparations... all of them had seen the devil with better things to do. But this one was special - for starters, it was an Ascended wedding (and how much more blasphemous could you get, truly?). Not only that, but it was Rexanna's Ascended wedding. Lucas arrived quietly, dressed in smart dark colours intended to blend in, with his hands buried in his pockets.

Having little care for etiquette, he went ahead and gave Bastien a respectful nod and a sly grin, knowing he would love him there, and took a seat next to Samuel. Why not? The little redhead was awkward enough - he needed someone there to take the attention off him. Having missed all of the shenanigans, too, with the blighted woman, he settled in to enjoy the festivities.

LUCAS
making work for idle hands
Ianto Dea Arduinna
Merchant

Age: 30 | Height: 6'0 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 4 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#9
IANTO
there's a bulletproof bond
Ianto had promised, more or less, that he would come to this particular wedding to see his decorations in action, and he had no intention of breaking that not-promise. Indeed, after planting roses at the guildhall with his once-and-sort-of friend, Ianto felt a lot better about attending. He padded out of the woodland in fox form, sniffing at the air (for snacks, obviously) before spotting Remi propped against a tree.

Given that he was the only one he had any real connection to so far, the fox thought nothing about padding through the snow and bounding up next to the alchemist. I expect great things from tonight, you know, he informed the other man, plonking himself down and resting a fluffy chin upon Remi's knee, fully expectant of scritches.
between me and you

Coding base by Sky!


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Other
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#10
the VOICE
Great things? She can do a thing or two about that.

There is no shrine nearby, save for the one in the woodlands, but the presence of her children gathered together is enough for the bright goddess to make her appearance. Indeed, all in attendance deemed bright would feel the static upon their skin like warmth - a warmth, indeed, that Ascended would otherwise find impossible to experience.

And all at once the Voice is there, present in prisms of light that scatter and change as she moves. She drifts down to where Bastien is standing, her smile dazzling, her hair a halo of white gold about her head, her clothes floating as if she is suspended in water. "You have brought the Hollowed Grounds out in force," she whispers to him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I am proud of you, my bright spark. What a joyous occasion."

Coding base by Sky!
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
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#11
dont know where the lights are taking us
but something in the night is dangerous
Knowing what she knows now – that Bastien has been good for Rex and that Rex loves him – allows her to come to the wedding as more than the Queen. She is there as Rex’s friend and newly found sister. Family, in a way; and look, most of the family is already here.

Wessex offers a hand on the shoulder to Bastien, needing to say nothing else. She’s sure he’s well aware of the various threats of what will be done to him if he doesn’t make Rexanna the happiest woman in the world. Besides, she’s talked too much lately. It’s time to be quiet, be present, and let others say all the things. Then there’s Sam and Remi (+ fox friend), and Wessex gives both men a smile and a nod. A stranger. Nice little small nod to him as well, though there is considerably less warmth to it. And finally, Loren, who also gets a brief, but kind nod.

The Wraith may not look tired (will she ever?) But she is there (in well-made, but plain clothes. The same armor-type of thing she wore to Remi and Ronin's nuptials), and it is only the presence of her Lady that makes her perk up. She feels warm.

Bright.

Finally, she sees Lucas, that ever evasive man. There is plenty enough reason for her to be seen chatting with him, so she openly approaches the blonde and offers a tight-lipped smile. “I have a job for you when this is done.”

If he’s not too busy being a lazy ass.
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
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#12
KIADA
tell the boy you love that you are too dangerous to keep
take scissors to the strings tying you to him
The rationality lingers so terribly briefly for the girl, for the thorn that had pierced her skin. She can feel it waver, feel the pain and sting of the thorn over and over again in her mind, feel the ghost of the need to destroy and ruin those roses. But she also knows she’s made a promise to be here, to see the event. She doesn’t need to go in person, doesn’t need to show her face. Part of her is afraid of what she’d do if she were in her skin and not the feathers she finds herself in.

And she soars on shaky wings, feathers trembling until she lands in the tree above the wedding, staring down with dark black and red eyes — hunting as it were, for the many that have gathered have planted those terrible roses. And well, Kiada needs to know where to strike next. But she doesn’t make a scene, does nothing other than watch, plan, and tremble in her recurring fury.
do not eat, do not sleep
perfection is not obtainable
by those who are weak
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
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#13
for 1000 nights i've been a restless soul
"Of course, Bastien." Remi replies, trying to infuse more brightness than he feels he is capable of. "Let me know when it is time, and I will fine you." He says, meaning that he'll wait until the groom is good and ready before beginning the ceremony.

Not truly having noticed Loren, it was the alchemist's turn to shy away from the touch placed upon his shoulder. He didn't flinch away entirely, but the look in his shattered gaze was wary and upset before quickly calming. The healing light was a welcome thing, but not one that Remi felt he needed. "Thank you." He whispered a touch breathlessly to the summoner, nodding before making his way towards the line of trees.

Opening his eyes to spy a familiar foxy-face, the alchemist grinned slyly at Ianto before ruffling a hand through his curls as he exhaled a long-held breath. "Oh is that so?" He asked, looking for all the world like a man simply having a one-sided conversation with a fox. "Well at least if I have any technical difficulties I will know who to blame." Remi added with a smirk. Raising a hand to rest it upon the fox's neck, his fingers immediately began smoothing through the fur to find the best crevices for hard-to-reach scritches.

Nodding to Wessex, Remi's hand temporarily tightens on the scruff of the fox's neck as he spies the Voice. What do you think she is doing here? He asks in a silent whisper.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#14
DEIMOS
For once, the Sword was not amongst the crowd. Though he watched, waited, and lingered, narrowed eyes constantly surveying those coming and going, striving not to rankle with an odd sense of consternation at the Voice’s appearance (when or why he would’ve gained the ability to raise his hackles at such a being eluded him – could’ve been due to the blight’s spread, could’ve been due to Safrin’s wake amongst his attuned form). But there were a great many others gathered, a welcoming aspect to Rexanna and Bastien’s ceremonies, despite the ongoing push and pull of pestilence, the resentment echoing in fragments. The Penumbra’s expected pitchforks hadn’t been unleashed yet, and there were a good amount of people, himself included, who would’ve ensured none of them made it very far. He scanned the throng, the mass, the multitude again, finding Remi, an assortment of others (no Amalia yet, maybe later), the Harpy in her feathered glory – were he in her sights, he might’ve smiled in her direction, despite the ongoing stressors and chaos concocting, surrounding her form. He unleashed a small, nearly inaudible sigh, then turned his attentions to Rexanna.

He’d cleaned himself up – no armor, no working clothes, suited again (since now he had a part in the movements and motions, couldn’t stand by the wayside like prior engagements), hair tied back in its residual bun. But nothing and no one would outshine Rexanna, and with the depths of his smile, he proffered his arm when she was ready, tending to his commitments and promises.
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in


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