[Mini Event] bellatrix audet concurrere viris

PHOEBE

Let you go and the lonely in
To take my heart again

Phoebe was going to sit quietly. She was going to say nothing. In fact, as Loren stood and spoke for ages, the midwife quietly stood and cast her vote. She did not need to stop and think about who she thought best to lead. She did not need to make a case for herself either, knowing she was neither anyone’s favorite nor most qualified to lead a land she had not been born to. But as Loren went on and vouched for himself in such a fashion, she could not help but speak up.

Quietly she turned from the voting box, staring Loren down from where she stood. ”So then the Launceleyn’s rule over Halo and the Hallowed Grounds? Claim to hate them as you will, they are still your family, and I do not think it wise for one family to have such authority over so much of the world.” she said with a measured firmness. ”I am sure I speak for many when I say your willingness to help this place is welcomed, but to lead it foolhardy, even if that is due to no fault of your own.” His name carried baggage, implications, stereotypes. That was Zariah’s fault, but he would still have to live with those consequences.

Honeyed eyes looked to Oliver as he spoke, understanding his concerns but disagreeing in part. "That is what monarchs do. They decide and act without necessarily asking the people. The hope is that the monarch someone everyone trusts. Whether it is a monarch we choose or a representative council, that is the most important thing - someone who has been steadfast enough in their support of the Hollowed Ground for us all to believe they've our best interest at heart."

”That said, if we are to give our two cents, I will not say more on Wessex. She said enough for all. And while it is admirable to wish to connect the world, it should perhaps be considered that we have a leader who is focused on making this place peaceful and stable for those who choose to call it home, rather than go off exploring the world. It doesn’t matter how great the rest of the world is if we are constantly fighting each other.” she said, her voice caring an air of softness even as she spoke at a loud volume.

”Let us seek a leader with few connections to those who have led before, and who wishes to invest in this place first, and recognizes the value of the Naturals who came before us outspoken Outlanders.” By then she had reached her seat and she sat with her nephews who looked up at her with wide, pride-filled eyes. ”You did so good Auntie!” Jax said excitedly, squeezing her hand.

For every joy, there is a price to be paid.

The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.

ABASI

Abasi had not come from a world with democracy and the concept was rather foreign to him. Voting in of itself felt so odd, so alien - his hand froze with the pencil for a long time as he tried to work out the best course of action.

What did not help his confusion was Loren's speech, because at the end of it Abasi knew he did not agree. Loren was not a suitable ruler, could not be. At least not yet; he was too conflicted, and Abasi did not think that his statement on there not needing to be a ruler was true. He had never been in a world without a monarch; he did not know how to be without one.

He said nothing to Loren, thinking it unnecessary to cause a scene in the meeting, but knew what to write on his paper.

If his heart rules him,

his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.

Base Code by Sky!

You know I still like you the most

The best of the best

Sam was terrified as Wessex gave her speech, just waiting for the hall to devolve into violence and anger, potentially directed at the Ascended. Thankfully nothing like that happened, at least not yet, but he could not help the anxious pulling at the back of his hand, the skin no longer hurting with each pinch but the punishment still enough to stop him hating himself too much.

It was unsurprising perhaps that Phoebe did not want to open the portals. After all, she was one of the guardians...he eyed her worriedly, unsure if it was wise to say anything. But he had something to say, and he was trying not to be scared anymore...

Calmly, so quietly that he had to cough and raise his voice a word in, Sam said: "I...I don't think opening the portals means that everyone will go off exploring right away. The Hollowed Grounds will always be my home - I'm sure that's the case for a lot of us. But it would mean if something went wrong here we could escape, or get help. And we might be able to work out trade deals with some of the other places we find. I think having more options open to us would help the Hollowed Grounds, not hinder them." With his piece said he squeezed Nate's hand and looked down at the floor.

and the worst of the worst

You'll always be my favorite ghost

SAMuEL

Base Code by Sky!

Not really giving a shit who was in charge or whether or not they were Ascended or whatever, Adam did not have anything to say. Besides, he figured that the decisions were never actually made by little people like the ones speaking. Not the people like them or him. Perhaps there was not money in this world, but there were swiftly becoming powerful people; they would be the ones making the choices. The only real thought he had about it all was that given there were more Old Gods, it was probably wise to have a ruler that could actually speak to them on anything like a reasonable level. Letting everyone argue their points, he scribbled something on his piece of paper, making sure to hide how it took him a moment to sound out the letters and get them down. adam Mistreat your Altar Boys long enough and this is what you get Sad and angry... can't learn how to behave Still won't know how in the darkness of the grave

& they said you were the crooked kind

that you'd never have no worth

She can hear Wessex as she begins the speech, and she tries to give off as much support as she can, head angled toward the queen with attention and focus despite still having no eyes. And she listens while Wessex lists out what she’s done, what she hopes the grounds can accomplish, what kind of rule she had hoped to carry. And she understands it deeply in her bones, the idea of doing anything and everything to protect and benefit their people.

She had done it once, ending in flames and fires for reasons beyond her control. But that doesn’t mean she can’t give her own two cents.

She can hear Loren as he speaks, as he offers himself for the reasoning, for the choices, and she can hear the blowback come from Phoebe and a few of the others over the ideas of that alone. But she does agree with one thing, she agrees with Phoebe’s mention of a council. Because councils got an understanding of outside the home, out in the country, the hardships without going and physically being there. You needed them for the farmers, for the artists, for the races and people to be represented.

After a moment, before she votes, she stands, hand squeezing Clem as she turns her attention to those gathered — still eyeless, still uncertain of where to aim her face, but she hopes it’s to those gathered. “The issue is that we need to be represented, while also having a strong front.” She begins, hands clasping behind her back as she ducks her head slightly. “There’s many of us here that came from other lands who arrived and pushed our ideas and thoughts of how things should be done onto those that have lived here the entire time. But the truth of the matter is that there’s no perfect way. Everything has a flaw, whether it’s seen immediately, whether it’s seen years from now.”

A brief pause and she continues. “The fact is that we need a head, not necessarily a monarch, not necessarily a king or queen. Someone to be the face of it for appearances of being strong when there’s already rulers in other lands that will see that weakness and take it. The Hollowed Grounds have suffered enough, and with new places appearing, we need to ensure our strength on our end too.” it helps bring Ascended and not needing to breathe, she thinks.

“A council should be the deciding factor. Pick a face for it to prove the strength to those that might look to tear us down. But give us representation. For the races, for the naturals, for the outlanders alike. Give us room to debate and compromise and represent the people that we have here. Because we’ve seen it doesn’t work, look at Zariah’s rule with her hold on the Abandoned. Look at Wessex’s rule of a Natural Ascended. It shifts the balance.” Her head tilts toward Clem to let him guide her to the voting place when she’s through, squeezing his hand gently.

“So I say we should vote for a council. Choose your leaders as you will, but by having our voices heard, ensure that they will remain so. We all want to have a part, have our voices heard and concerns addressed. Now is our chance.” She let’s Clem begin to guide her. “So take it.” As soon as they reach the space for the voting, she writes hers down in legible handwriting and slips it into the box.

but you were always gold to me

the

PeNuMBRA

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Silent, stoic, and stalwart, remaining amidst as just one more monolith amongst the crowd; a proud pulse along the attuned connections towards Amalia for standing her ground, an accord of curiosity bounding along the rest of the ruminations. By the time Wessex finally delivered her speech, he’d already known a multitude of the decisions, of the calculations, notched by those who’d been around for these triumphs, for these pitfalls, her lines drawn quickly, efficiently, and then no inquiries. Nothing for them to ask. Nothing for them to sift through, to understand, to delve deeper into. A coward’s way out, or simply understanding where everything had begun to fall? He displayed little to no reaction throughout the display, even as she disappeared into oblivion (new powers, or something of the old; recalling Jigano’s mention of the Voice offering her more and more). They had their options. So now what? He was only mildly surprised when Loren stepped forward to give and grant his proclamation; seemingly days before, they’d discussed the possibilities and parameters of this eventual discourse. Amalia had told him of some of the ongoings behind other conversations (how he’d expressed no wish to reign, except for now, perhaps inspired by Wessex’s lecture, how he’d tried to explain the very history of this world to one who’d lived amongst its legends and secrets for her entire life). In some parts, he understood where the Launcelyn was coming from. Unfortunately, the stain of the name, no matter how disowned, seemed to puncture and pierce, rankle and dismay, some of the others gathered. The Sword listened to the rest, some statements agreeable, especially considering a council. How many times had their kings and queens either failed or simply didn’t want it any longer? Reigning was difficult, was trying, and by now hordes of them had deigned themselves unsuitable or done with the entire lot. Why not a group – much like their rebellious fortitudes had mustered together, down in basements – without hackles raised, without massive egos, be the ones to manage the world? The ones who cared? The ones who gave a damn? His gaze went to Rexanna as she spoke, and though his features never rearranged from their reticent measures, he was proud of her too; merely nodding in her direction, even if she couldn’t see it. Then he went to cast his vote too, another decision, another measure, stuck to their plains of history. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Jigano waited as Wessex gave her version of events, glossing over a few key points, he noted with bitter humor, and then running away like a dog with her tail between her legs rather than face those she claimed to rule. He held his tongue, letting Loren make his stand for kingship and listening to Oliver's questions - smart ones, he was pleased to note. He heard Phoebe's rebuttal, making valid points as much as Loren had, but putting no particular name forward, and he raised a brow at Sam's meandering statement that... seemed more than a little non sequitur, since the issue up for vote wasn't the use of the portals but rather who would control the one within the Spire. As Rexanna spoke he pushed himself off from the wall and made his way towards the ballot box, nodding thoughtfully at her words and the sense in them. It was what he had tried to do with Edy and Ronin, and what had fallen apart with Edy, Ronin, and Wessex. It was a good idea in theory... but so far they'd yet to prove that they could put it into practice.

"I've seen the fallout of Wessex's idea of 'negotiations' end in murder and death two times out of three," he said as he walked, for once not bothering to project his voice but speaking conversationally. "She's shown herself to be someone who can't handle being told 'no' and won't work to find other options that don't end in bloodshed - and is more likely to make us enemies than allies, as our current relationship with the Fae proves. That Zariah and the Launceleyns of Halo approve of her rule is not exactly a glowing recommendation." He paused for breath as he reached the front, nodding to Rexanna though she couldn't see him. "Rexanna's idea is a good one, but there is still the tarasque in the room. The current Queen, appointed to her position by the Launcelyens, didn't give us leave to vote for a council - only for another individual. Nor did she give those who might otherwise have tried to work out a council a chance to do so in advance, to present a fair challenge. And as Oliver has pointed out, any council she appoints will by its nature be biased." He took a scrap of paper and a pencil and began writing it. "So ballots cast in secrecy for various members of a council will split the vote, while those cast for her will have no real challenge. But I wish to walk in the Greatwood again, not just in the snows. I wish to see my friends among the Fae beyond a barrier we cannot cross because of one woman's bloodthirsty impatience. So I'll be open about who I'm voting for, in the hopes that enough feel similarly to help shift the balance.”

He glanced up to Deimos’s place with a wry smile of apology. "Deimos is already in charge of the defenses here. It makes sense that he continue to do that officially on whatever council may yet form. Evie comes from a respected family among the Naturals, and is herself respected as an apothecary. I would nominate her as well, to speak for the shopkeepers. Amalia is also from a respected family and has earned her own place among the leaders of the Hollowed Grounds, even if it’s currently unofficial, but many of us look to her already for advice and she can speak for the Attuned as few others could. Bastien is known among the artists and artisans and has shown himself willing to work towards building morale as well as foundations here. And Phoebe, though young, has been tireless in trying to improve the health of all people here, especially in her work against the Blight. There are others just as worthy, even among the more recent arrivals… but there is only so much space on the paper,” he finished with a light shrug as he folded his full ballot in half and dropped it in the box before returning to his place near the back.

EVIe Evie never expected the meeting to go this way. To have such a tide of emotions run hot inside her, more akin to fire if it were not for how it sweeps her away helplessly in its clutches. Begging her to get involved, to lift her voice in turn. Her eyes are sharp, uncharacteristically cold, as she listens to the voices rise one after another. Still civil for now, but Evie has been here her entire life. She is ready for anything, any amount of violence or dissent. But when her own name is given, she simply cannot remain silent, as if the words are ripped from her chest the second she is called upon. Stepping around Dante, she places him intentionally behind her. He is tall, and can still be seen behind her, but before him she is the stalwart wall that breaks the ocean's battering waves. Protective, keeping him concealed and defended from these people who are gathered all around. And it gives her the strength to speak. "This land has been ruled by tyrant after tyrant, whose few crowned citizens were hand picked and groomed to the wants of their regime. You have all seen Zariah's impact, and summarily condemn Wessex for her inaction upon her return. But she cannot be everywhere at once, and there is no collective of people voted into power to help keep our citizens safe. Monarch or no, she is still one woman, and our own inaction is apparent. We could have asked for this forum long ago." The militia is weak, barely even a thought after Zariah's conscription had burned everyone away from it. But how can they condemn the Queen for not being at the perfect places at the perfect times, while remaining inert themselves? Wessex, like every ruler Evie has seen come and go over the years, is imperfect in her leadership. They merely like to cast stones at a target to ignore their own lack of support. Because it's easier. Because they are all cowardly, no matter how highly they like to think of themselves. "Yes, a council is in our best interests, but we would be foolish to stop there. We are called here from our homes only in the wake of drama and destruction, and only at the whim of our current leader. We are the citizens that our monarch protects, and we need our voices to be heard on a regular basis. Rexanna and Jigano are correct, but it is our duty to follow up and remove any who make a play at tyranny again. Or even those who simply work against the majority wishes of the Grounds." She feels irritation bubble inside, but keeps a firm grip on her emotions. "Whether that's seasonal voting like this or some other idea. We cannot be complacent in our own destruction merely because someone places a crown upon their own brow. Or offers themselves, or is put in power by previous dangerous people, or who replace a previous leader without our consent. It should be a choice, a vote, that the recipient can accept or deny. No more forcing us beneath their heel." Loren and his tarnished name, an unfairness she feels bad for, but one she can't ignore after Zariah had destroyed her home so thoroughly. Wessex and her lack of checking in to see if they even supported her reign. Jigano and Ronin abdicating and placing new people in their positions without consulting the Grounds. She takes a deep breath, the fire raging hot inside her helping burn away the anxiety she feels about speaking out so freely in a forum of people far braver, stronger, and more well-connected than she is. But this is her home. Nearly everyone who has spoken is an Outlander, and it chafes just as it did when they first started arriving and taking over. "It is ridiculous to squabble about who to put on a council yet. Take a look at those in this room, who are already invested enough in this land to care to come. Find someone you trust to allow a council, and to be open minded to making it as impartial as possible. We need a face, a leader, someone at the mantle for discussions. Someone to put on that slip of paper. That is our starting moment to fixing this ridiculous mess of leadership. Councils can come later." Here she stares at Jigano and Oliver, because frankly she can't allow herself to be kind and understand right now. Even if she is deeply humbled by the faith Jigano has shown in her by naming her as trustworthy. She can't afford distractions or preferential treatment, not when this is her home, and these Outlanders can't stop putting in their own two cents that divert from the most important part of this forum. "For now, I beg of you all, as someone who has been trapped in these Grounds my whole life, and who doesn't want to be ruled in a cycle continuous cruelties - make a singular choice. And then follow up. This is your home now too." And in so saying, she strides to the front of the room, fiercely writes a name on a slip, and after depositing it returns to Dante's side with fire still simmering in her gaze. Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it’s wrong or you’re making mistakes

table by sky!

to be made of sunshine is beautiful

to be the light and the warmth and to be loved

Melita didn’t know what to think.

Her mentor, someone who had trained her, who had taught her to fight far better, far greater, than she ever had, unraveled every nuance of her reigns actions, inaction, and the consequences of them all. Torn between wanting to understand and failing to comprehend entirely, her mind spun while the rest of them offered their sentiments, their ruminations, why they were better, why anything mattered. She hadn’t experienced this before – the reigning of monarchs in Helovia had been orchestrated well before her time, and the Rift had been utterly ridiculous in its false paragons and faulty gods. Zariah had been different, an open forum where nothing they said equated to anything at all.

Melita didn’t know what to do.

Her eyes shot over the crowd, the familiar faces, the crackling foundations fissuring further and further along, the changing of everything all over again. Her heart hammered in her chest, a ricocheting little barb, head maneuvering back and forth with each volleying conversation. Her gaze finally managed to pinpoint back to Sunjata, tugging at his sleeve, feeling foolish and ridiculous, the ignorance and unknown scrambling over her features. Was she even capable of making a decent choice? Things that hinged on power and supremacy? What do you want to do? the question in her eyes, the rest silenced, beneath the roar of the crowd and the nettles gathering on their edges. Then she managed to meander towards the paper, the apprehension still clinging to her, shaking as she wrote.

to be made of sunshine is painful

to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach

MELITA

SuNJATA

There were certainly many words, and certainly many thoughts that do run through his mind. As Wessex speaks, he leans into Hotaru’s touch a bit more, letting her squeeze him closer as a bit more clarity sparks in those steel eyes. He sees Melita nearby, beckoning her closer before his head lowers toward Hotaru’s ear, whispering something within before squeezing her shoulder and turning his attention to the many voices around the room. And with them all? He finds it relatively dull. Councils were only good if they could compromise, but based off of his interactions here with many, compromise seemed harder to come across than it may have originally been.

Too many cooks in the kitchen, sort of scenario.

And for a moment he contemplates not even voting, not sure it matters, before his sleeve is tugged by Melita and his shadowed steel gaze slips toward her, releasing his hold and crutch on Hotaru to slip away from her for the girl. He can see the look in her gaze, had felt it much before, but he musters enough strength to give her a soft smile, slipping his arm around her shoulders now for more support, and gives her a look of telling her to vote for her heart, what she wants to see.

He decides he’ll do it too, as they reach the box to vote.

take me by the hand but please don't want to know me

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

Harper

Well. So this is an impassioned mess.

Harper doesn't speak, doesn't feel like he has the grounds to even if he wanted. But this system feels archaic to someone who comes from a century where democracy and checks and balances are commonplace. He doesn't want to insult anyone by claiming something so self-centered to his own timeline, like them being under developed. But it certainly is showing the cracks that his own history had already faced. A single ruler wasn't even a thing in monarchies of his past, who'd had advisers and dukes and titles out the ass. So he shrugs a bit to himself, slips in to cast his vote, and then retreats back to the shadows to watch the ending of this meeting before he departs.?

DANTE

Dante had only the word of those around him to go off of. The stories, the recollections of past events, would have seemed impossible to him just weeks ago. And now he stands there at Evie's side, entranced by the conversations going around him, and rather, over his head.

Or, at her side until she steps in front of him. He can't help the way his heart warms seeing Evie's impassioned take on the matter. Dante had never seen her speak up like that, though that may be due to his short time with her. Regardless after she returns to his side he squeezes her hand before moving to the front to write his own vote.

There are plenty of options between this Loren guy, Wessex, and others as proposed by Jigano. But Dante's mind is made up as he writes in his vote and returns to Evie's side with a nod towards Clem though there's no time for words with everything else going on.

& the moon is the only light we'll see
no, i won't be afraid

Aonghas listened to Wessex with a look of quiet scrutiny on his face. A quick summary of what would clearly have been far more nuanced events – events that didn’t particularly paint the Ascended in a good light either. Speaking of peace and then listing the number of deaths under her command in the same breath didn’t exactly do her cause any favours. Then no call for questioning or clearing up what she had said. It wasn’t reassuring.

A single person had directly given their own name forward only to be immediately shot down with fair reasoning and scepticism. The follow-up suggestion of a council seemed like a good idea in theory, but as Evie had said, there wasn’t much point to discussing that now. That would involve much more prep.

It was messy as this kind of thing tended to be and not everyone was going to be pleased with the result. So Aonghas quietly folded his paper and cast his vote.

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 sideways very quickly. Wessex makes her explanations - some of which the girls knows, others being new revelations, each one making her fists clench tighter as she tries to keep her expression calm. She wishes she were surprised to hear that the Wraith wants to open more portals, that nothing she said on their last encounter left any impact on the woman's mind. That she is still blinded by the Voice's empty promises, still too selfish to consider the repercussions her actions will bring on the rest of the world. She would challenge, would speak, would show her strength- but in a puff of smoke and a the span of a blink the woman is gone, fled the dias on which she stood, leaving Amalia shell-shocked where she stands. Of all the things she had expected of Wessex, none were ever that the woman might take a coward's way out. And then the voices begin to rise. Arguments, combative, egos and ideas, but Amalia scarcely hears them. She is still staring where Wessex once stood, the world slowing to a crawl around her as she tries to make sense of what happened. Is this the woman's master plan? To throw them into chaos, leave them at each other's throats, use the mess to prove why she is still needed? If so it is genius, for in the wake of the Wraith's departure there is nothing resembling cohesion. How are they to vote, when nobody else has put themselves forward? How are they to choose another leader, without knowing how anyone else will lead? Amalia does not contribute to the impassioned uproar; there is nothing she can do but add to the noise. So she writes her message on the paper, a bandaid for a deeper problem, her dark eyes still scanning for signs of the Wraith. "You cannot hide from your actions, Wessex," the girl says quietly to the dias, the crowd, to wherever the woman lurks, disappointment heavy in her voice, betrayal in her eyes. "You're better than that- or you used to be. You used to be so much more." Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you