Site Wide Event Always be mine


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#1
capturing the
sun


So steadily had the days been growing longer that it seemed an eternal LongHeat had come to grace the world. Despite many going to bed far later because of how late the sun decided to set, fatigue didn't set in. Indeed many felt refreshed in the morning as sunlight peered through windows and slithered its way through cracks beneath doors.

But all good things must come to an end, so they must.

But not tonight.

The sun has sunk low, bathing the world in bright vibrant tones that scream across the sky with fingers of colour. Soon it will slip below the horizon and if you've not caught the sun by now, you've lost your chance for this year.

Within the Wildwood the fae have prepared a lovely festival. String lights hang from the trees and a few hanging snakes have even taken to moving about magical orbs of softly glowing light from bough to bough. There is food prepared and set out and the trees have parted so that the stars can be seen through their thick canopy as darkness finally descends.



Welcome to the fae's catching-the-sun festival! Please post here with the gift that you've brought, and then give it to someone else! You must post here twice in order to gain credit for thsi aspect of the SE! (feel free to make break-off threads as well!)


Neron Launceleyn
the Hailstorm
Barman at the VlamVloed

Age: 29 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#2
WISE MEN WONDER WHILE STRONG MEN DIE
Neron had not been into the Wildwood other than that unfortunate time when the fiery luxere had been causing problems. And given that he had not been told to douse flames in the Greatwood (and the fact that the culmunation of the event with the luxere had been his twin losing his lover), he had seen no reason to return. Until now, of course.

The sun set and he arrived alongside the usual guardsmen who had accompanied him to the Hollowed Grounds, though he dismissed them soon enough to enjoy the festival on their own merit. His ribs were mostly healed from his encounter with the bull, and he had his gift prepared in the magic that buzzed at his fingertips.

Meandering through the lights and festivities, Neron kept an eye out for Rexanna. If and when she appeared, he would try to catch her eye.
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#3
ADAM
After the rather disastrous end of Fiat Lux, even Adam was a little hesitant to come to this next party, but things had to go on. Life couldn't end because of one terrible thing; if it did Caido would hardly move at all. He headed into the Greatwood dressed in his best, little beads in his hair and an open shirt bearing all sorts of exciting colours and patterns. The highlight of his outfit though was the thigh high boots, bright red and laced in a complex pattern that had taken him an hour to perfect on either side.

With his gift for Peter in a little bag (he had absolutely no pocket space) he waltzed into the festival, smiling at all around and at the setting of the little event. "Cute."

It seemed he was one of the first there; as much as Adam liked to be fashionably late, it meant he was one of the earliest ones at the snack table, which he made a beeline for and grabbed whatever looked good, along with whatever the Fae had for booze. He was going to go wild tonight.
Look who makes their own bed
Lies right down within it
Base Code by Sky!
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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#4
Sam
Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

Sam knew there was an ban on Ascendeds in the Greatwood and he did want to respect that. So he would! In a way, sort of.

He had gone to the effort of completing all parts of the event so far, so he felt it would be an unsatisfying ending to not attend the gathering, which marked the end of the season as well as the task of Capturing the Sun. However, he did not have to attend it in any way that anyone would notice, except perhaps his giftees: before he had taken one step in the forest he had made himself invisible, hoping to escape notice.

Reaching the festival he sat on a low branch of a tree and watched, hoping he could go mostly unseen from the higher vantage point and away from the main throng of party goers, holding his little bundles of dried flowers in his hands until those he wanted to give them to appeared - Remi's bundle he had burned the night before, thinking it a gift of sorts to his memories of the man.
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
LOREN
It had been tough for Loren to force himself to attend the gift giving event, given that the last time he’d been in the Wildwood his love had died. Still, the healer was a council member of his brother’s reign in Halo, and Loren had the gift all ready. Appearances had to be mainted and all that. So he’d followed along in Neron’s wake.

Once they arrived at the gathering, however, the healer had stopped at the outskirts. Holding the stupid painting he’d made, its colors vividly and inexpertly centered around a black paw print, he just leaned against a tree and watched as others showed up. He forced a polite smile on his face, though it entirely faked, a lifetime of hiding his emotions behind a polite mask coming to his rescue.

Staying where he was, he kept an eye out for someone he could exchange his gift with who wouldn't ask him too many difficult questions. In fact, he compelled some nearby sparrows to keep an eye out for anyone approaching him, just so he'd be forewarned.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
Weaver Hale
the Scythe
Warden of the Citadel

Age: 33 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
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#6
She has yet to come to the Greatwood - any part of it. Something about it didn’t intrigue her quite as much as the Grounds or Torchline did. Probably because tales of the fae, though not necessarily bad, didn’t sound all that inviting either. She knew full well that she wasn’t ever going to get anywhere interesting here unless she was invited, and without an invite, why bother coming? Until tonight, of course, when they were all invited to gather for the catching-the-sun festival. Weaver isn’t entirely sure why she bothers to come except for sheer curiosity. She doesn’t expect to know anyone, and she doubts this is the sort of place where she should go and get drunk, so there’s little for her to actually do.

Still, she comes anyway. The dragonfly trinket from Mavis’s stall is tucked into one of her pockets. She’s not sure why Mavis suggested it as a gift, but it is a beautiful thing and would make a lovely necklace or keepsake or maybe just be a great thing to regift. The Wildwood is lovely as well, and Weaver takes a moment to pause and simply look over the twinkling lights, the snakes moving through the trees, the starry sky above. She is early, revelers just starting to gather. Normally she would consider it uncool to arrive at a party early, but this is the sort of party that she suspects she won’t stay long. She’s here to see; get in and get out.

She settles herself on the outskirts of the party, leaning against a tree, content to watch and not mingle for the moment. It is only after she settles in that she realizes she is not alone, but rather Loren stands not too far off. She doesn’t know him, though he looks vaguely familiar and she wonders if he’s from Halo. It was too small a place not to know everyone, or at least recognize some familiarity. ”Not the party type?” she asks, not moving closer or infringing upon his wallflower space (that would be rude and against wallflower etiquette), but at least acknowledging his presence.

weaver

-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --

Quote by Charles Dickens


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
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#7
WESSEX

Go
deep throat
a cactus

Sorry Rex, but she’s sick of the Fae telling her she can’t be somewhere. The arrow sent a message last time she was in the Wildwood (for an entirely altruistic purpose, mind), and she’s about to send one back with a big ‘ol middle finger. Fuck you and your little ban, too. Because this totally isn’t about otherwise having to wait another season to level.

With her candle gift in one hand, decked in her usual black hooded cloak, Wessex approaches the edge of the Outskirts and finds Amun, tossing him a little crooked grin at their plans. They may have different reasons for crashing the party, but the outcomes are the same. You can’t keep us out.

Shall we? she asks the potter silently, holding out a hand for him to take before transporting the two of them from the edge of the Ground to the scene of the party in the Wildwood. The Wraith tries to recall the events of last year and place them on the edges of the clearing, in the shadows of a large tree surrounded by brush, where they might escape notice for a bit. Wessex isn’t stupid, she knows they’ll be found - and she knows she can escape. The two of them, Amun and herself, occasionally manage to work well together.

We’re probably pushing it if we get closer. So… I suppose we could exchange gifts. What the Ascended could possibly need with a candle is beyond her, but uh, it’s the thought that counts?


Libbs Walzek
Lockpick

Age: 27 | Height: 5'3" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
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#8
LIBBS
Libbs arrived. Yes, she may have gotten lost before she got here, making her timing a bit off and out of place. But what could she say? The Hollowed Grounds were hard to navigate sometimes! Getting to the Greatwood was the easy part- following other festival-goers who seemed to know what they were doing. Cause ya gotta fake it to make it sometimes, right?

She'd stand for a moment in the open area, her head twisting in each direction. To her side, she had a leather bag, holding some precious cargo- her gifts! Sable gaze would scour each ground for some particular individuals. A moppy headed-scarred dude name Sunjata. A tall scrawny noodle named Jigano. Or, since his gift ended up finishing earlier: a blond kingly guy named Neron, though his brother Loren would also suffice!

But Libbs was not a perceptive sort, no. She completely walked past the Launceleyns' despite being in her objective list today. Instead, there seemed to be some sort of fancy little shindig that the fae were doing that captured her attention- causing a squeak, and she'd run off in that direction.
what can I do, what can I say?
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 30 - Int: 1
ZHANSHI - Mythical - Landshark (Airbending)
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#9
my love affair with water runs deep into my soul,
the serenity as intense as the tides ebb and flow
Amun had honestly been pissed when the Fae hadn’t lifted their ban for their little party. Considering he hadn’t participated in the blight and hadn’t actually attacked the Mathair, he was more than a bit annoyed to be barred from the Greatwood. It also rankled that he'd gone through the effort of fulfilling that stupid legend.

All in all, he was feeling a bit rebellious. So it had been easy enough to make plans to meet Wessex at the outskirts, figuring they might be able to use her teleportation to get in, cause a little well deserved chaos for the Fae, and get out. Indeed, they had similar feelings about this, it seemed. The bag of gems that he'd acquired from Adam in exchange for pottery was clutched in one hand.

When she asked if the potter if he was ready, he reached out with the other hand to take hers rather than answer mentally or verbally. Then came the strange feeling of being teleported. When they arrived, he was slightly disoriented, but crouched in the brush and behind the tree. Sure thing, Princess. Here, have some gems. Some of them are glass, but I figure you don't care. With that, he held out his bag for her.

Loathe to let go entirely, knowing they could get discovered at any moment, he linked their elbows together so he could hopefully pluck the candle from his hand. Assuming she took the bag and he was able to grab her gift, he'd shift to holding her hand once more. How long do we have to wait before you can do you teleport thing? As they hid, he kept his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of the Fae.



Gems acquired in Make a Mess {SE}
nothing is softer or more flexible than water,
yet nothing can resist it
AMUN
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
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#10
WESSEX

Go
deep throat
a cactus

Ooooh, sparklies. Maybe I’ll bedazzle this cloak, it’s looking a little worse for the wear. She awkwardly takes the bag with the hand of the arm that’s linked with Amun and holds out her candle with the candle. To keep the boogie men away at night she says with a little mental chuckle.

Her eyes are also peeled for Fae, as are her ears, and whatever other spidey senses they might have. One post inbetween Give it another thirty seconds or so to recharge, The Wraith replies, thinking themselves quite lucky at the moment. She doesn’t notice Sam, and if she did, she’s not sure she would risk it to help. So while they wait to be able to leave, Wessex takes a look at Amun and his restored hand and thinks back to their new Halo shrine. You ready to build a boat yet?


Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 30 - Int: 1
ZHANSHI - Mythical - Landshark (Airbending)
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#11
my love affair with water runs deep into my soul,
the serenity as intense as the tides ebb and flow
Oh so now you take the time to work on your appearance, Princess? He winked at her. They managed to make the gift exchange in a less than graceful manner, but it happened and Amun supposed that was all that mattered. Excellent. I've been oh so scared when things go bump. Holding the candle in one hand and taking her hand with the other once more, he gave her a cheeky grin.

He nodded as Wessex mentioned that she needed a bit more time before she could take them out. When she brought up the boat, however, he raised his eyebrows. You want to help me and a bunch of other Ascended catch some Hels, whatever those are?
nothing is softer or more flexible than water,
yet nothing can resist it
AMUN
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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#12
WESSEX

Go
deep throat
a cactus

Just watching out for my third-favorite sibling, she quips back. Like Amun wants to keep any men away at night. She should have said boogie women. before her nanites tell her that her power is back to operational levels. Sure. If those are in Torchline, you’ll need someone who’s doing okay in the sun. More or less. Certainly better than before, though she’s still wary about immolating if she’s out and about without a hat or cloak for too long.

More family bonding. Yay.

Aight, I'm good. Without any further ado or warning, Wessex takes the two of them back to the Outskirts and certain safety. Sorry Sam. Shoulda told someone you were going.


{Wessex and Amun out!}


Blacksmith

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
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#13
OLIVER
The topic of gift giving had come up between him and Bastien. Unfortunately, with so many things happening recently, Oliver had started to lose ideas on who to give his gift to. He had created a painting with Loren, one that had small paw prints and claw marks. It wasn’t anything special and he wished he knew of his other shifts before, allowing for a much larger variety in his artwork. Still, it would do.

Before, he had wanted to give it to maybe Remi, but he most likely wouldn’t come. Loren has been through so much and honestly, Oliver didn’t even think he’d show up. He didn’t care for art so this would be a pretty shitty gift. Sunjata was also dealing with his own problems and probably didn’t want a lousy piece of work. That only really left a few people. Harper and Bastien stuck out the most, but would that really be okay? To give a gift to the dude he liked or maybe the art heavy guy.

Holding the canvas close to him, Oliver made sure that nobody would be able to see what was on it. Watching, he tried to find someone he knew. Maybe one of the two or maybe someone else. Just anyone. Anyone that would appreciate it. Anyone that would be happier if he gave them something. Someone who would actually like to receive art or would understand that he cared for them. Someone he could maybe call a friend.
i saw that my life
was a vast glowing empty page
and i could do anything i wanted
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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ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#14
Last year he'd attended in his human form, dressed to impress and holding out hope for better days ahead. This year was different in many ways, not least of which was that he didn't feel particularly celebratory after all that happened. He knew he should make an effort to try and relax, have fun, remember what it was he lived for...

But without Rory at his side he mostly just wanted to get the night over with and return home; an urge that had been growing increasingly stronger of late.

There was an easy way to head off unwanted general conversation, and that was to arrive in a form that had limited ability to chat. His giftee would recognize him quickly enough, and in the end that was what mattered. So it was that a silver dragon descended into a nearby clearing and then made his sinuous way through the trees to the party, finding an unoccupied edge before things really got into full swing to stretch out along. He folded his forepaws decorously before him as he lounged as non-threateningly as possible, the leather bag holding his gift hooked over one curling horn for safe-keeping as he scanned the participants, keeping an eye out for Tarasha - and tilting his head curiously and with a flicker of fond amusement at Libbs as he saw her dancing with the Fae.


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