Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

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The Druid
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Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by The Druid »

Date: Saturday, April 27th
Time: At Dawn
Location: City Square (Board Event)




Come ye who are worthy to receive thy blessing!







OOC
Those nominated for May Queen or nominated for the Beltane Court will be gifted with a blessing (associated with a precious stone, mineral, or crystal) and will be titled the Lord or Lady of --

Once the event setting is posted, nominees are encouraged to post their characters receiving their blessing, and spectators are welcome to participate as well.

Keep an eye on this thread for more information!
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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by The Druid »

At dawn on April 27th, a court of spirits manifested in the square outside the Red Dragon Inn. The ghostly forms of courtesans and courtiers — fae lords and ladies from Beltanes long ago — filled the edges of the square, all looking to the dais in the center, where an empty suit of rusted armor sat upon the Hollow Throne.

Spectators are welcome to watch while those who have been chosen for the Beltane Court are ushered forward by a ghostly page to receive their blessing. All members of the court are encouraged to kneel before the Hollow Throne to receive a vision. As it fades, they will find a stone or crystal within their hand, a symbol of the blessing they have received.





OOC
Those nominated for May Queen or nominated for the Beltane Court are gifted with a blessing (associated with a precious stone, mineral, or crystal) and will be titled the Lord or Lady of --

Nominees are encouraged to post their characters receiving their blessing, and spectators are welcome to participate as well.
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Mina
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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by Mina »


Mina arrived shortly after dawn in a simple blue dress that matched her eyes, fidgeting nervously with the rune imprinted ring on her finger. The shades made her nervous, as did the idea of receiving a blessing. The last blessing she had received from the fae had come with many strings attached, and she would be paying the price for it for the rest of her life (however long that may be).

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward when the ghostly page gestured that she should do so. Her chin was raised high as she reminded herself that she was a Champion. She cowered before no one. Still, she may have trembled a little when she knelt before the Hollow Throne.

Then the vision began and Mina Ardelean relived every unkind word, every punishing gesture, every moment of fear and loneliness and heartache she had ever known. She shook. She cried. She bent low beneath the burden of her past, hiding her face.

And the visions changed. There was someone at her side, a steadying hand on her lower back. There was a home filled with life, laughter, and love. There were gardens to tend and wounds to soothe and heal. There were family and friends and battles to fight, but not alone. Never alone.

When the vision ended and Mina stood, there were tears on her cheeks and a smooth oval of Moonstone clasped tightly in her hand.

New beginnings. Don’t look back.
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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by Mist Gul »

Lord of the Sapphire


It seemed very strange that upon lifting his gaze and head, he was looking at the governor. Pharlen Von Tombs, garbed in a trench coat, green Lee jeans, desert boots, an Alice in Wonderland T-shirt, and a battered felt hat. Yet she was somehow regal and commanding in those desert worn clothes.

He stared at her, wondering how she had come to be there, wondering what had become of the ghostly court, the Hollow Throne that he had knelt before.

"Son of twilight," she spoke in a strange, whispering voice, not in Common, but in Sindarin. Mist closed his eyes briefly in surprise, he hadn't known she could speak the language. The question never came to his lips.

"Never do you seek within for the man you were meant to be," she noted, her chin raised.

"That man no longer exists," Mist responded.

"For he has been trained and beaten, tortured and formed, forced and enslaved, a product of comprachicos who will disfigure a child with all the care and skill of an artist," Pharlen responded, turning away from the elf. He stared at her back, wondering how she could know these things.

"Forgive, forget, continue on your course, striving to be loved, to be loveable, giving freely of yourself and taking nothing in return." There was a strange mocking tone in the soft caress of her voice. His brows knit.

"I don't forgive or forget, Madam, I will never forgive some of them. They don't deserve it, and it gives me no comfort, I only want to--"

She glanced back at him when the sudden strength of his voice dropped to nothing. She smiled.

"Yes, yes?" she prompted. Mist exhaled, his eyes wide, his head lowering with his shoulders. He stared at the ground. Fog laced over the stone, then rose around them in a thick wall.

The words of a poem written for him by some stranger came back to his memory. How he had come to see the disfigurement of runes as beauty, how he had come to accept the creature he had been made into as himself.

What other choice did he have, he couldn't escape himself. He couldn't escape his own body. He couldn't re-make it. He needed those runes, now that he knew what they were and how to command them.

Her smile had faded. All Mist could see of her face was a blank gleam of white from one of the lenses of her glasses. He focussed on that light.

Mist's head lifted slightly, his hand outstretched. Streamers of vivid blue swarmed around his hand, and he idly wondered at them. He hadn't called any power into being.

"I will open my mind for myself," he finally responded to the phantom. He could see the curl of her smile before she vanished in the fog.


His hand closed over a blue sapphire, a simple table cut gem in lustrous pure blue.

His eyes opened to the throne of empty armor, under the ghostly gaze of ladies and lords gone by. Shaken, he rose to his feet and stared a long moment at the stone in his hand. He took in a slow breath, then bowed.

"I bring the blessing of knowledge of the self," he announced in a soft voice, "Wisdom and persistance."

Rather than to slip away and hide in his meditation room, Mist remained, standing proudly among the others, to welcome the other lords and ladies as they arrived.


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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by KhaoticBliss »




The current Queen of May (for a few more hours, anyway) had a lot going on these days, and when the summons arrived in the predawn hours, she wasn't in the least bit surprised (having received one each of the last three years running), but she was at least a little glad (and not for the first time) that she needed little sleep.

In the clothes she was already wearing (because who had time to change when you were being summoned at four in the morning?) Saila made her way to the square. At first, she didn't really get that the ghostly court before her was in fact comprised of ghosts, they looked like normal people to her and she took her cues from those around her. She watched in silence as Mist knelt to receive his blessing, and though she may well have wondered what it was that he had seen, she'd been through this too many times already to actually ask.

When it was her turn, the oh-no-wait-I'm-pretty-sure-he's-a-ghost? page beckoned her forward, pointing to the spot that she should kneel. Not too punched out about the whole concept of kneeling, really, Saila rolled skinny shoulders, shifting her weight. "Does the May Queen kneel?" she wanted to know, asking of the Hollow Throne in a murmur that likely would not have carried to any but the sharpest of ears.

The 'vision' that came to her first was more sound than sight, a rich and rumbling laughter. Never change, the disembodied voice said to her with a certain measure of affectionate exasperation. Nonsense, the mercurial teen replied in her mind with an amused toss of her regal locks. I am always changing.

That's true, the voice agreed after a moment's reflection, and at last her peculiar eyes locked on the source of the sound, her head tilting curiously. I had another blessing in mind for you, but on second thought, I think this is better.

Her hand, loosely curled in a fist at her side, squeezed around the foreign object that had suddenly appeared there, jagged and asymmetrical in her palm. She lifted her hand to examine it more thoroughly, running her finger over the curious geometric shape. A delighted laugh spilled from her lips then, warm and ringing in the silvering of dawn. It's a made thing, like me!

Yes, came the reply, though naturally occurring, it is an element unto itself, not quite like any other, and it is so rare in nature that it is most often created in a lab. There was a pause. You know what to do.

I mean, no, not particularly,
Saila snickered, fearless, but that's never stopped me before.

Even the other members of the court could hear the rich, rolling laughter that followed her as she walked away from the dais, taking her place once more among the others gathered.

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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by Juniper »

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Juniper stood still before the dais, her heart hammering, her eyes would shift to where Nicklaus waited for her and she'd give a small half smile. She stood watching the others go up before her, the inner voice questioning her and why she stood to be honored with others to be a Lady of the Beltane court but she stood there ready to receive it anyway.

A spectral hand was extended to her, bringing her back out of her inner evaluations. Smiling a little at the page she'd step up and go to the Hollow Throne eyeing the empty rusted armor before she slowly knelt before it closing her eyes. Time stood still, one breath, two, several more, nothing was happening her fiery wings crackled lightly as Juniper held her breath. As she knelt her head started to hurt and to those around her they'd see a fire flare from the center of her forehead. Behind closed eyes, she saw everything all over again, Young Juniper, youthful and happy, later years of her and the demons murderous rampage beset upon the innocent and guilty alike. Her imprisonment and solitude for 300 years. All her happy and sad moments but as the emotions rose to overwhelm her and tears rode down her face the warmest of blankets fell over her shoulders and everything she saw she seemed to be seeing and feeling differently almost as if some on switch had been flipped. Calming hands soothing away her stress and anxiety hatred and fear and sorrow all calmed and smoothed. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes the fire dying down to reveal a slowly opening third eye, ghostly in appearance, lavender just like Junipers eyes. This lasted but a moment before the third eye faded still wide open. She looked down as she felt something appear in her hands she looked down at the floral form of the amethyst and a small smile formed before she touched it to her third eye bowing a little more getting up and moving back into the line swaying just a little before fainting.


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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by Nicklaus Burison »

Nicklaus caught Juniper as she fell, jostling a few of the closer spectators in his haste. Stitches tore in his formal breeches from the width of his stride. The amethyst flower nearly tumbled from her hands, but Nick elbow-juggled it back into her grip as he lowered her to a clear patch of ground.

"Juniper? Hey, June, you all right?"
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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by Juniper »

She would moan softly and blink pale in color but seeing Nicklaus she'd smile and reach up calm on her face "mmhmm I'm alright..." and she stayed in his arms to keep from disturbing any more of the proceedings.
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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by Rachael Blackthorne »

Lady of Obsidian

Rachael Blackthorne extended her right black leather gloved hand to meet that of the spectral page at the edge of the square. Her lithe, long legs, hidden under her strapless black velvet gown's full skirt, easily kept pace with the page's steps as he escorted her to the dais. Overlayers of gossamer sheer black silk atop the velvet bloomed around her when she dropped to a graceful kneel before the empty suit of rusted armor that sat upon the Hollow Throne.

Rachael's sapphire hued eyes quickly shuttered closed behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses with the sudden power that overwhelmed her mind.

Images bloomed in rapid succession. The faces of those over time who betrayed the woman known now as Rachael Blackthorne in some fashion by their abuse of what power they held over her. The painful consequences that she suffered from those betrayals.

And yet, through it all, an underlying black glassine ribbon of clarity and truth—decorated with the silver shield of her office, the shimmering black rapier and dagger that she wielded, the seventeen felines that supported her with an unbroken circle of Fae energies, and the diamond and sapphire golden bands that she wore in proof of her love for her husband Ian—surrounded and guarded Rachael from succumbing to the temptation of abusing the powers that she herself possessed.

You know what you must do, daughter of the knife and vial. I give you the strength to endure what you face and accomplish your task.


The deep, resonant voice echoed in Rachael's mind. Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze focused on the chunk of obsidian that now shimmered against the palm of her left black leather gloved hand.

The newly blessed Lady of Obsidian rose gracefully from her kneel before the Hollow Throne and turned to face the gathered ghostly courtesans from the Fae courts of the past along with those in the crowd who had received their own blessings and those who had yet to be blessed.

"I bear the blessing of the ability to successfully dispel the negative effects that result from the abuse of power." Rachael's words carried to those gathered easily and clearly, without the need of her inborn ability to amplify the tone of her voice.

The Lady of Obsidian drifted to stand with the others who had received their blessings. Her raven-haired head bowed. Rachael let the waves of Fae energies present—energies that reminded her of the seventeen Fae felines that resided in the Blackthorne Household, that reminded her of home—wash over her. A rare, fond smile twitched to form on her usually stern ruby red lips.

I will do this.

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Lady of Clarity and Purification

Post by Michelle Montoya »

Lady of Aquamarine

The ghostly court didn’t unnerve Michelle as much as she thought it would. Her steps were quiet, not hesitant but not brazen with confidence. Her inauguration into the court was unexpected, as was this blessing. She knelt gracefully on one knee, head bowed. Rumours had it that she was to receive a vision of some sort and then receive a physical token of the gift. The Lady of Atrebla knelt for some time, five minutes, then ten then fifteen. And still the vision did not come. Michelle broke the reverent bow and looked up at the Hollow Throne and then at the page. Was she missing something? Her silent question was answered by a small voice in her mind ”Bring him.”

Michelle gathered her children and took them to the day festivities of Beltane, they left shortly after dinner time and returned to Atrebla.

---

She returned later that evening by carriage. There may have been a few onlookers left but there weren’t many as most of the court and other participants had gone to the wilds for the crowning of the Queen of May. Michelle quietly hoped Mallory would forgive her absence. Opening the carriage door she let herself down and then supported Derrick. The bandages over his eyes were fresh and the cane he held was buffed and polished. Holding his arm she guided him towards the Hollow Throne. She aided him into a kneeling position and looped her arm through his. Their knees hardly touched the ground before the briefest vision overwhelmed them.

They were standing together in the soft glow of pure light on a pristine beach where the clear aquamarine water lapped lazily near their feet. Derrick stood tall and clasped his wife’s hand in his. Dark brown eyes stared into hers and there wasn’t a sign of illness or trouble on his face. For the first time in a long time, Michelle felt absolutely at peace. Derrick brought her into a close embrace and whispered in her ears “It isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It all works out in the end. Trust in us, in our vows. Move forward with faith and confidence in the future.”

When the vision cleared Derrick was holding her hands in his. She felt something smooth inside her grip. A blue aquamarine stone. Gazing into the stone she felt a sense of calm. It brought her clarity of purpose, washing her fears, stress and insecurities away. It was a gift to be shared with others.

The stone was later set in a simple gold bracelet.




Quote adapted from Gordon B. Hinckley
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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by Bailey Raptis »

Bloodstone: fills you with a surge of courage, self-esteem, energy and protection so that you can enjoy living in the now.

April 27, 2019
Red Dragon Inn


The ghosts of Faerie beckoned Bailey to kneel before the Hollow Throne, and so he did, before he could second-guess himself. As he knees pressed against the cobblestones, those thoughts came, but by that point it was far too late to go back. When was the last time I bowed to the Fae? Did I ever do so willingly? The thought hung in the air, heavy like the fog looming over Dockside’s waters this morning, before the answer came. No. Never.

His brain screeched to a halt when he forced himself to focus on the spirits, and saw one of them approaching him. The specter looked perfectly androgynous, dressed in a poet’s shirt, kilt, and ghillie brogues that laced up to their knees.They were handsome; they were beautiful. A lump stuck in his throat, his heart skipped a beat, and then he could feel it drumming insistently against his ribs. That’s when the shame kicked in: a hot flush on his face and a sharp twist in his guts, like someone had grabbed hold of them and squeezed. He lowered his head, embarrassed to lock eyes with the ghost, but when their cool fingers brushed against his chin, he shifted and lifted his gaze.

Art thou afeard?” the spirit asked him, and his heart jumped once more. They spoke with two voices, echoing, a combination of a man’s tenor and a woman’s contralto. “Worry not.

“Why would I be afraid?” He tried to sound tough, yet his eyes still couldn’t bear to meet the specter’s.

I am Fae. Thou art fae.” As they spoke, their voices seemed to dance and dart around each other, one starting a split-second before the other, and finishing in much the same way. It distracted Bailey from protesting aloud, though the Gentry ghost noticed his apprehension anyways. “If it be now, ’tis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come—the readiness is all.

“Shakespeare…” Bailey trailed off, as he finally met the pale blue eyes of his interlocutor.

Aye. Art thou eft to receive thy blessing?”

“...Yes.”

Good!” Before Bailey could stop them, they pressed two fingers to his forehead, and his eyes shut despite his efforts to keep them open.

***
Do your best.” All that was there at first was Andrea’s voice -- no. Not just her voice. Another curled around it, like the Kindly One that had blessed him. Or cursed, Bailey thought. But whose voice? Neither of the two from before, nor any he could recall hearing before. Pitched in the middle of vocal range -- a countertenor or contralto?

“Do your best.” It repeated, as he opened his eyes to see the Isle, the crystalline tower waiting in the distance for its fate to be decided. He blinked, and the scene shifted to the Arena, his jaw and left shoulder coated in his own blood. Matt’s voice, Mallory’s voice, Jonn’s voice, Runt’s voice -- they combined to form a cacophonous choir singing those words, along with the unknown speaker.

“Do your best.” Another blink, another shift, this time to The Callow. Bodies danced around him, sweat flying everywhere, but when he tried to see their faces, they shimmied just out of his sight. The mysterious voice combined with Max’s, Dany’s, Roshie’s, Grethe’s. The music swirled up to drown them all out, rising in speed and volume until it seemed ready to burst Bailey’s head and then --

Silence. He’d shut his eyes during the aural assault, and didn’t dare open them even when the coast seemed clear.

“Bailey…
abra seus olhos.” The countertenor/contralto spoke, alone, with no accompaniment. Bailey obliged the voice, now finding himself in pure purgatorial white. Nothing else was visible -- not even the source of those words.

“Who are you?”

Sua bênção. Your blessing.”

“And the vision?” Bailey waved a hand at thin air.

“You have the courage. To stand in for Mallory when she was unable to fight on the Overlord’s behalf. You have the skill. To defeat Gren for the key to the Citadel of Stars, to defend it against Jin Chae. You have the desire. You love and lust fiercely, though you try to hide it. Don’t. Believe in yourself. I will protect you for a little while, so that you can live in the moment. Live in the now. The way you used to live. The way you should.”


***

Bailey drifted back to the here and now, dazed. Someone or something had slipped a bloodstone ring on his right index finger, placed bloodstone-studded earrings in his ears. Something cold, slight damp, and wooden touched both of his shoulders.

Arise, L’rd of Bloodstone.” Bailey did as he was told, knees shaking as he pulled himself up. Once he felt steady on his feet, he rushed forward to hug the spirit, but they were gone. All of the specters were gone. All he could do was hug himself, as that familiar tingle of glamour and goosebumps prickled his skin.

“Live in the now.” He turned to the north, to the Wilds, and began the long journey to the Fires.

((Please let me know if you’d prefer not to have Bailey “hear” your character during his vision, either via PMs here or Discord. Thanks!))
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Re: Beltane 2019: The Lords & Ladies of Beltane

Post by JewellRavenlock »



The Empress strolled into the area in front of the Red Dragon Inn well after dawn when the sun was shining brightly in the perfect blue sky this fine Beltane morning. While others treated appearing before the court of spirits reverentially, Jewell did not. She showed up in jeans and a t-shirt featuring a an Empress characicture, winked at the ghostly paged, and knelt before the Hollow Throne.

And saw visions of a noble nature.

When she stood, her brow was furrowed in thought and burdened by a circlet of lapis lazuli. She adjusted the crown, gave an upnod to the page, and waded through the crowd.
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