[SWE] you're invited

It takes her a moment to realize that it’s Amalia who gives her a coin, which almost stops beggar!Wessex in her tracks. She manages to wheeze a wordless sound of thanks to the young woman before changing direction entirely and finding another stall to hide behind while she processes that entirely too simple interaction.

What could bring Amalia out of Stormbreak? It didn’t feel good. Didn’t feel right. This Festival had always been about Safrin and fire and now? Now it doesn’t feel… right.

The Wraith returns to her regular form and exits her hiding place, sending a thought to any Ascended in the area (Mabel and Nate). If anyone wants a lift back to the Grounds, meet me at the edge of Meadowreach. Fuck if I'm gonna celebrate Safrin. It was a good enough excuse as any.

She would wait long enough to see if any of them came, and if none did, she would leave without them.

-----------

Wessex out! Perhaps with an Ascended in tow. Or not.

The Wraith
the bright
the thing in the night

Wessex

Sah

Only in the dark
of night

The response from Melita pulled a small laugh from Sah. "Of course. I have complete faith in your ability to wreak havoc." He grinned but ended up tilting his head and watching her work. He recognized what she was doing with the flowers, and upon so chuckled. "Making yourself a crown? You should make one for Fangorn too." Sah wasn't sure if the Gourd would like it, but he suspected the companion would at least appreciate the gesture.

At the mention of games, Sah looked up and eyed the party. "No, I haven't. Are there some here?" He raised a brow playfully. "Are you asking to kick my ass at a game again?"

do the stars
shine bright

It's a party. In Caido. And you're all invited.

So obviously something big is going to go down - but most of you already figured that bit out, didn't you?

It sounds, at first, like the peal of a bell, emanating from the very centre of the meadows where only long grass and wildflowers play. But a second chime - louder, this time - will draw the attention of the crowd, and a wisp of something bright and ethereal spirals up from the earth, pulsing gold and copper. And it speaks, in a voice that seems to echo from befores and afters, neither male nor female nor anything in between.

"Eight more cycles of heat and snow, before the call will come. Eight seasons until war. The tools are ready, but the warriors are not. Eight seasons more to make haste, to find the relics and prepare."

---

Congratulations! You have been privy to what is probably the most admin-centred IC announcement that has ever taken place on the site! And NOW YOU KNOW. What do you know?

- We're officially in the mid-game, kids. You have EIGHT IC SEASONS to prepare for the war (or not, it's up to you!) It will come after this point, whether you are ready or not.
- RELICS. These are big, important items that will help you A LOT. They are hidden (some may have been hinted at already...) and will be introduced in various ways over the next eight seasons. How? Why? What do they do? Are we going to be obvious about them? We can't tell you. But we CAN tell you that either "side" can gain a relic, and they may only be owned by one character at a time. First to find 'em keeps 'em!
A few notes:

- This both is and isn't a call to arms. It's a HUGE achievement for us to get this far in the site's story, and this is a cue for you to be able to decide what to do with your characters, where they want to go, who they want to be, who to focus on levelling etc. etc. Don't panic, and remember to have fun!
- Your character will need to have been present at this point in the SWE to receive this information. If your character is not present, you will need to receive it IC from someone who was here.
- We say EIGHT SEASONS, because that is the timeline we have worked out. But as you guys know, you shape our story - the war could absolutely happen before eight seasons go by! But this is when the hammer will definitely drop.

What we need from you:

- PLEASE REACH OUT in your admin chats and let us know which of your characters, if any, are definitely going to be involved in this war business. We want to know who we should be focused on and where to shine our spotlight.
- PLEASE REACH OUT ANYWAY for any other plots etc. that you want for your lovely characters! Just because it's war, doesn't mean they still don't have goals and dreams and aspirations. :heart:
- If your character is not going to be participating in the war plot, please do not put them in any PQs, PQ+s, KQs related to it. These might be important.

And a final, little teaser:

When war does happen, and when it's over, it will not be the end of the site. Not even in the slightest.

longheat

you're my guiding light, when there's no guiding light left inside

It's all going as good as can be expected, given the number of those gathered and the amount of bad blood that screams between them. But as the wisp of light appears, as the chime of a bell sounds even through the noise of the party, Ronin turns. His smile fades to hear the message, which settles in his bones and prints itself there, like this is coming from something far beyond them. Beyond gods and monsters, beyond rivalries and unexpected children. This is fate tugging their strings, letting them know it's there.

"We ought to get home," he murmurs, his voice very soft in the sudden silence as he glances back at Remi and holds a hand out for Mateo. "We'll talk about it more on the way?" Suddenly remaining to see out the rest of the festivities feels wrong.

RONIN

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

It had been a tumultuous night. Good things, bad things, fun and frightening things all in a jumble. Somewhere in between, Seren had been having a good time.

But when the chime peeled across the meadow and the ethereal wisp made its announcement, the cold shiver down her spine made the girl part from her friends, to seek out her family. She came hurrying towards Ronin, pale nosed and worried with Umbra gliding along like a protective dark shadow in her wake.

"Dad..." But the words failed her. She didn't even know what to say. So she simply hovered close, overcome by the need to be close. If they left, so would she.

Seren did not want to be alone right now.

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

Maeve

It stops everyone cold. Her blood feels as if it freezes in her veins and she hurries to scoop Paige up, the girl's eyes wide with fear as she trembles in her arms, clinging to her tightly. Maeve finds Locke, fingers curling in the sleeve of his shirt as she presses close, looking up to meet his gaze and the worry is clear in her eyes. They had been having a good time. They'd been breezing through and living life as if their days weren't numbered. Now they clearly are.

"We should get her home..." Maeve murmurs, flicking her eyes to the already scattering crowd, sensing the unease that ripples through them like waves.

I'm undone about to burst at my seams
'Cause I am picturing you beside me
So let me be everything that you need

kidnap me from my reality & crushed pieces of my soul

"So that is a..no to obnoxious flirting?" With a resigned sigh, Remi nods. Ronin isn't wrong, and though no one has died or threatened death (not out loud, anyway), this very much seems like the worst-case scenario just the same.

"I see we have chosen clouds as our method of transportation." He notes, watching Mateo trundle into Ronin's arms. Seren rejoins them then, and the alchemist offers her a tight-lipped nod. Not because he's unhappy about her presence, but more so because of the general air of discontent fluttering around their shoulders.

Speaking of shoulders, wings push from Remi's and wordless he rises into the air. Ronin will no doubt feel the adrenaline-fueled pulse of his heartbeat against his finger, as if they mean to fly off to war right then and there.

colour me outside the lines

until my shattered heart is whole

REMI

Table & Gif-sniping by SKY who deserves our love and affection for always.

you're my guiding light, when there's no guiding light left inside

It's decided, then. Offering a smile to Remi that in no way reaches his eyes, Ronin whistles for his nimbus. And as Seren circles closer, he reaches out an arm to pull her close for a moment, pressing a kiss against her dark hair. "You sit on the nimbus with your brother," he suggests, lifting Mateo onto the cloud when it arrives and watching to make sure that both he and Seren are safely aboard and holding onto each other tight.

Only then does he step back, and although it will burn most of his clothes away, crimson and golden feathers stream from his arms, cloaking him completely until, with a beat of wings, Ronin takes to the air. The Taliesin family do not linger at the festival. Questions can be asked and plans can be made on the way home.

RONIN

LOCKE

It's like a thousand thoughts run through his head but there's nothing when they leave. He looks at Maeve, wide eyed for a moment before he schools his expression. "Yeah, think it's for the best. Sure her Momma misses her." He pats the girl's head and hands her the bunny he had won for her earlier. "It'll be alright." As if he has the foresight to say it. But still, she's little and doesn't need to worry about a war. He slips his arm around Maeve's waist and pulls her close as they walk back to the boat. He's got a lot to think about.

I wanna make up my mind
But I don't know myself

---

Standing on the edge of the crowd, Arialla tensed as the announcement rang out. It had no visible source, but that didn't surprise her; oracles didn't always claim their work. Its prophecy didn't surprise her either. Of course war was coming. For Arialla, it had already started.

Those teeth on her neck had been the only declaration of hostilities she'd ever need.

How the attendees reacted to the announcement interested her more than the words themselves. There were Ascended in the crowd, she suspected, as well as open supporters of the Old Gods; would any of them decide to get the party -- the other party, the war kind -- started a little early?

So far, the main response seemed to be retreat. For a moment Arialla considered kicking things off herself -- seizing the spotlight and turning the evening's revels violent. But she wasn't confident in her ability to do so, wasn't sure that people would back her up. And anyway, the oracle had said eight seasons remained until war came. Only fools tried to change the path of fate -- disobedient fools, who could not obey the gods' will.

Arialla was no fool, and she was not disobedient. Taking her eagle form, she rose to circle over the gathering on the wing. She still wanted to see what might unfold after the announcement, to be on hand to support her own side if the one-time party ended in conflict, but for now she would hang back and wait.

Arialla

Freedom. Flight. Grace. Keen-sight.

"Golden Eagle - Mongolia" by carfull...from Wyoming is licensed with CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Rusalka, Rusalka your arms out of water

Your hair like an alien bloom

Mildew had not just stuffed her face at the buffet table this whole time, though it had been tempting. No, she had been listening and watching, paying attention to the people around her. After so long in isolation, seeing so many at once was fascinating as well as a little overwhelming and she was content to just stand on the sidelines and watch them all.

She thought she could see a couple of the Ascended dotted through the crowd, but it was hard to be sure; unashamedly staring at mouths for a glimpse of fangs, Mildew probably looked rather creepy to a lot of the guests there.

At the announcement though, like everyone else, she paused and listened to the voice. It told of coming war, honestly further away than she had expected. Seasons to prepare, rather than weeks, days; time for things to develop even further. Still, a grim omen indeed, her face which had until this point bore a light smile soured; not long after she left. Would the war reach her corner of the world?

Dark-eyed Rusalka, your brow tressed in flowers

Mildew

Base Code by Sky!

DEIMOS

And sure enough; something beyond parties, festivities, a round and round venture of potential rallied. At the peal of a bell, his eyes fixated elsewhere, not on the people, not on the games, not on the scrutinizing figures, but on the wisp of ethereal qualities billowing within the field. A voice – echoing and resounding, reverberating through bones and blood, and it cooled, pooled, in the bottom of his gut and in the tips of his feathers.

War.

A call to arms – the one they’d known was inching closer and closer with every passing moment, with every significant motion of hatred, adversaries, enemies, and attempts to make peace. Whether they resisted or not didn’t seem to really matter; the notions were there.

But the semblance of relics would’ve caused a furrowing of brows, if eagles had any. It was information, regardless, that he would need to bring home.

"who's gonna let you?"

they asked. i said

"who's gonna stop me?"

All expectations make her heart feel numb

For once, it had been wise of her to not listen to Wessex’s words and summons. Ignoring it for a narrowing of her eyes, the youth stepped back, lurching further into the shadows, the moment a voice unraveled and unfurled across the wake.

For the rest of those like her, not present, not here, would need to know the parallels and heights drawn. The number of seasons left. The amount of time layered and lacquered in between pursuits of survival and hostilities of war. So Mabel withdrew, further and deeper into the encroaching darkness, making her way home on swiftness and even, eldritch steps, a lithe messenger in fields and woods.

MABEL

Melita

Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down

She would’ve taken up the offer of kicking Sah’s ass at another set of games, had the tides not turned. The party regalia seemed to flicker and falter, the world dimming into something else altogether. Which she should’ve known, should’ve seen, should’ve felt coming, but Melita was always apt to play into distractions and merriment, rather than the unspoken, lingering fortitudes of war.

But there it was, booming and loud, ricocheting and measuring, taking them all in. Eight seasons to go, if not less, before it all fell into pieces. Her eyes instantly went towards Nate, Sunjata, and Kamaria in the distance, the whole semblance of play, of festivities, diminished in the blink of an eye, in the drums of horizons calling. Her smile grew strained, tight, and her arms wound around Fangorn again, eyes barely glinting back at Sah. “Another time,” and she hastened off with a general wave, the keen stokings in the back of her mind finally working.

to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun