Dressed to Suppress [OPEN]

[Finn]

"Flatterer," he murmured, but his cheeks were bepainted pink all the same. While he had grown accustomed to the idea that more people than not would find him attractive, Arvælyn's regard made him feel desired in a manner more welcomed, more exciting.

The would-be farstrider was amiable enough with their gruff beard, content to let the adults play politics while they stayed safely on the sidelines with the wine and the music. Finn laughed at Arvælyn's sally at Kyrin's expense, then again at his magical maneuvering for the last of the wine.

"Thank you." A sip. "Of course—!" His attention followed Arvælyn's, his ear attuned to the modulation of the music. Everything played out like fine theater: Cithæra and her highest-born children met with the Queen and the tension of it rippled through the room. He wondered if he would get a closer look at the Aurisian delegation, either here or later as Arvælyn's plus-one at a meeting of Cithæra and her various and sundry children. But for the nonce, everyone seemed to be present, all the familiar faces—and he was even starting to recognize some of the elven elite from other events, religious and regal.

Eventually, he supposed, they would do their rounds, but for now, Arvælyn had offered him a dance, and he set aside his empty glass to take his lover's hand with a grin.

Finn bowed over Arvælyn's hand in Kalzasern fashion—it was, after all, de mode—and kissed his golden knuckles.

"I thought, my prince, you would never ask."

And then they were off, Finn's long shanks and sure hands guiding his lover out among the dancers.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

► Show Spoiler

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- - -

As the Færie wandered into the main hall, his eyes glossed over the crowd as if in search for faces of a more familiar nature than not. There were, in fact, many people of whom he recognized. Many he was not all too pleased to see and many that he was, all peppered into a crowd of many whose identities were entirely lost on him, too. Those with which he shared familial bonds with he would seek to avoid especially, however. Of which he’d already spotted a few, and much as this was expected, his stomach still yet turned. It was ever a tragic day if he had to lay eyes upon his mother.

Avoiding her presence and that of his elder family members, he wove through a crowd hoping to arrive on the other side of the room in order to decrease the likelihood of any of them clapping eyes upon him. For if they did, then they might have the audacity to approach him and press words like needles into his psyche. A fate he did not desire whatsoever, and such a thing might even make him regret coming at all– but he almost felt obligated to, in a way. He wanted to at least be present for something as seemingly momentous as this. Both unfortunate and fortunate all at once, this scenario.

As he crossed the small sea of people, he noted the presence of some friends made in quite recent memory. Arvælyn and Finn were present, having arrived together as one would assume. He also saw Hilana, which to some degree surprised him, though he was happy for her all the same. Once he’d managed to cross the room, however, the music dimmed and shifted in key.

It was odd, almost. Though he realized almost immediately that such a thing was meant to signify the arrival of royalty. The dissonance of so many Symphonies shifting at once in surprise, curiosity, and some in concern was grating to the Fæ. His gaze on those proceeding forth was set and his expression was blank, but this whole scenario was foreboding in an odd way. He recognized what it was that their regalia signified, and though he did not know the reason for such a thing, it was plenty strange a portent all on its own. A portent he did not like, but being a man without any real power, what could he do?

After a beat, the novelty of their arrival waned and many went back to their standard socializing and so forth. Æros blinked, gathering his bearings again and moving to grab a flute of wine as he relocated the faces of his friends. As he did, however, he realized that Hilana and an elven boy he did not recognize had found one another, and, nosy as he was, this wasn’t an interaction he could quite interrupt as it appeared that the two wanted to share a dance. Secondarily, such a notion looked as if to be shared by that of Finn and Arvælyn, though this he had very much expected.

He chose to stay solitary in that moment. He didn’t envy the others, no, but the sights thereof made his heart yearn for the presence of his own lover. This was…not an event to which he could at all bring the boy given that an invitation was very much required, unfortunate as such a thing was.

- - -

'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Raithen]

The youngest Phædryn officially present had been announced a little separately, and with much less general stir than had his more lofty and legitimate mother and siblings. A few heads lifted at the sound of his family name but they had ducked back to their own business almost instantly. His wings had caused a stir of their own the first time he'd been officially introduced in public but it had been many years since they had been anything but an immediate cue to most of the court that he was, relatively, unimportant.

His reputation of being pretty but, ultimately, the least skilled and least politically savvy helped as well. It was all true, but the emphasis allowed him to do the tasks he was assigned with little suspicion. After surveying the room to make note of any notables that hadn't been expected and finding none he turned to go and greet Finn and Arvælyn only to find that the pair had moved to the dance floor. He watched them brief, a little smile of interest gracing his golden smile. They were both lovely, and together even more so. If his excursion into the desert had taught him that neither was available to him it had not dampened his appreciation.

Turning again to go greet Hilana he found that she too had taken to the floor with Lord Æros, of all people. The pairing was confusing but Hilana was lovely, and Rai wouldn't begrudge anyone the desire to take her hand.

Turning to see who his mother was gracing with her attention he saw she was on the royal dais, as was proper, greeting the sovereign. His observation was just in time to catch the tiny reaction to the unknown person standing beside the queen. The knight was beautiful, and the fact that Raithen had never encountered him before, to his knowledge added the space of intrigue. A moment was all the time he took to consider his choice before subtly catching his mother's eye. Small changes in expression, the raising of just the left eyebrow, a tilt of his head, eyes moving to the unknown man, were enough to explain to her his intention. Her head inclined minutely without breaking her current conversation and a smile broke over her winged son's face once again.

Moving to the dais he waited while those with greater prestige greeted her majesty. When he moved up himself he was cordial and warmer than most of the others. He hadn't spent a great deal of time attending to the safety of the highest in the land, but he had spent some. Enough that he knew his slight show of connection would most likely not be taken poorly. When he was introduced, out of hand, to the young knight he bowed, letting a different sort of warmth tug at the edges of his courtesy.

"Sir Ayreon," He came out of the bow and met the other man's eyes, distinctly, "I have not seen you at court before. May I welcome you and, if I be not too bold," Here he stopped and looked again to the queen as though asking her permission as much as the knights, "ask the pleasure of your hand in the next dance?"

Almost as much as flying, Raithen enjoyed dancing. If the stately court version was less to his taste than that which could be found elsewhere in the city, well, the night was young, he was young, and who knew where he and Ayreon might end up?

[Pharaoh]

“Raithen Dux.” The Solar Sovereign’s eyes darted to the tell-tale wings at his back. She made a point of noting the Phædryns, whether true or baseborn, but this one was hard to miss as the only living Avialæ of Aværyan lineage… albeit not enough to impress a Sanguinist as devout as Thalya IV Imperatrix. She inclined her head and gestured for him to pass to greet the ambassador. When Raithen troubled himself to greet his attendant knight, as well, Sir Ayreon seemed taken aback. No one else had greeted him with more than a nod. A sidelong glance was also cast by the Solar Sovereign, before she returned her attention to the approaching Princess Varvalla of Gens Astræon-Sol’Aværys.

“Your Resplendence…” The Aurisian knight had registered the winged man’s title as it had just been uttered by the Solunarian monarch, though he might not have taken note if not for his starkly different, and rather striking, appearance. His voice was deeper that one might expect from one with his features, and his Vastian was accented- favouring a guttural Aurisian ‘R’ rather than the flipped or rolled one used by natives.

“I will accept your welcome, but I must, with reluctance, decline your hand. I am in service to His Excellency tonight as honour guard.” He inclined his head in a polite apology, but leaned forth to lower his voice conspiratorially, “But… perhaps, after the lights go down on this grandiose pageant, I might entreat you to show me how Solunarians revel when they are not under the eye of their Sovereign?” He offered a sly wink, before rising to his full height and resuming his sentry duty.

With representatives of each branch of the House of Sol’Aværys having processed into the ballroom and made obeisances to Her Divine Radiance before greeting the Aurisian ambassador, the ball continued. Courtly couples promenaded across the dance floor, guests of grand and slightly less grand status paraded their spectacular fashion senses before both their betters and their lessers, haute hors d’oeuvres enhanced to enliven senses beyond the taste buds by ætherically adept chefs were enjoyed, and fine spirits were imbibed. When the guests were as near to relaxed as one could ever be in the presence of the Solar Sovereign, the hour was at hand.

► Show Spoiler

“Populus Solunarius!” A surge of otherworldly awe burst through the crowd from the origin point of the Solar Sovereign. It was well known amongst the elite, albeit not the lower castes, that Mesmer fell amidst the massive menu of magics manipulated by she who was meant to be their most masterful mage. The discourse faded to a halt, the music shifted as if being conducted by the shear will of the Sovereign to underscore her proclamation. All would look to the monarch as she rose from her throne, the miniature sun rotating above her crown moved with her and faded slightly as not to blind those now gazing toward its lustre.

“Today we celebrate the long and storied history that exists between Auris and Solunarium. We are grateful that His Excellency, Ambassador d’Averyx, has seen fit to grace us with this evening of opulence here at the embassy, which is in loco Auris. But we have a surprise for you all today. Princess Valæra, please step forth.” The dark-haired moonborn of House Phædryn quit her mother’s side and stood before the Sovereign’s dais, curtseying dutifully, before Her Radiance gestured for her to stand to her left. Now flanked with the ambassador on one side and Valæra on the other, the queen smiled faintly.

“The princess has been hard at work in Auris, where our blessed Founders, He of the Sceptre, and She of the Scourge, sit amongst their pantheon. The Aurisians recognise the glory of Aværys and the serenity of Varvara. They value our relationship and acknowledge our Faith as righteous. And so, they have afforded us a boon. Ambassador?” She gestured to the pale elf at her side, who regarded the crowd before them with a stoic ease, as he addressed them in slightly accented Vastian.

His Excellency, Davion D'Averyx
Aurisian Ambassador to Solunarium

“Long have our allies in Solunarium been forced to trek for many miles and traverse the Crystal Sea to visit their holy site in our realm. But no more. Although our embassy in which you stand is considered in loco Auris, and thus you stand upon Aurisian soil at this very moment, we would do you one better. Let it begin.” The ambassador gestured, as those on the dais descended its steps onto the floor before it. Within moments, the room began to quake as the dais and the high seats upon which the queen and ambassador had been perched moments earlier, melted into the floor and it was as if they’d never been there. The queen, the princess, the ambassador and his tall ward all turned to the rear wall which began to warp before the eyes of the onlookers. Within the great arch that mounted the wall, the stone began to glow in hues of white and blue and soon there was no stone visible at all. Moments later the bright glow dimmed, save around the edges of the arch where timespace was still warped by pulsating blue-white light. But within the centre, was a vision of something else.

“Behold!” Cried the ambassador, “Kaladon!” He raised his arms in triumph as, indeed, a great volcano became visible, looming in the nighttide darkness, emitting an orange glow from its mouth beyond the newly formed portal. “A temple of the Varværyn Faith has been erected in Auris, and this gate will stand open for those deemed worthy of the pilgrimage! Come, Scions of Solunarium, and stand upon the true and hallowed sands of Auris!”

The Solar Sovereign took the ambassador’s arm, and the pair were the first to step through the portal, but they were soon followed by other royal delegates, as well as members of the Aværyan Guard.

As guests stepped through the massive portal, they found themselves within a clear, crystal pyramid. Its vaulted ceiling was tiered, and so a prismatic effect warped one's view of what lay beyond it, but one smooth, transparent wall was facing Mount Kaladon directly. While ornate, the temple was not after the typical Solunarian fashion. There was a simplicity to the architecture, which relied upon illusory effects created by the refractions and reflections of light against surfaces so transparent they might have been invisible if not for how they cast back the light of the two moons above. But there was no doubt that the structure had been built to highlight the mountain itself- framing it as if it were some verismo painting or stained glass mosaic. It might have been both depending upon the angle from which one viewed it as the light played against the image.

As guests dispersed throughout the large chamber, which was clearly the sole hall of the temple (at least aboveground), Aurisian attendants moved to offer sparkling wine to all who thirsted.

“The Temple of the Radiant Rending, in which you now stand, shall be operated jointly by Aurisian and Solunarian devout.” The Solar Sovereign proclaimed, “The Ministerium Divinitatis will take applications from all who would make their sacrifices before the site of the Founders themselves and the office of the Princeps Pontifex will assess who is deemed worthy of this blessing, before presenting their names to the Aurisian Embassy. We accept this boon in deference to Auris and acknowledge that this portal shall be used only at their discretion. Now, then, strike up!” By the time her speech was finished, the musicians had set up in the temple and were poised to play a jaunty, elegant tune as The Solar Sovereign raised a goblet of bubbling white wine.

“And let us vaunt a new phase in the ancient alliance between Auris and Solunarium! Pro Deus et Domina! Semper altius et excelsior!” The ambassador turned to toast the Sovereign, as the room erupted in cheers- as dedicated Mesmers situated throughout the room subtly urged the assembled toward due excitement.

[Hilana Chenzira]

The promenades and courtly dances were easy enough, especially since they were amongst a line all doing much the same, and through it all, Hilana stayed on her toes as if she was in the heels she had worn in Tertium. She was glad of being in the delicate sandals tonight, laced though they were and hidden under the black gown; otherwise she would have been looming over a number of the dancers on the floor. But through each step and passing back and forth with the young Patrician who had not yet grown tired of her - somehow - she was also keeping an eye out for her friends, trying to keep track of where they were so that she might be able to gently coax her present dancing partner in that direction so that one of them might swoop in and scoop her up, so she could have some fun with them.

There was Æden’s black and gold Runeforged cape, which she had gotten a preview of earlier in the night when she had been getting ready at his familial home, and she could see the Starborn beyond a number of Elves and Patricians. Hilana almost thought she saw Arvaelyn and Finn before deciding that that definitely was the two of them, what with the fantastic outfits. She wanted to ask them what they thought of the fashion tonight, and if it reminded them - at least Finn - of their home beyond the Seas. There was Æros, with the intricate, colourful attire, and remembering a visit they had enjoyed earlier in the month, she could speculate on if it was a work of Masquerade or if, like Æden’s, it was Runeforged... And those wings told her Raithen was not too far away, and that pleased her, though he had moved towards the dais. That was a no-man’s land for the Vastiana, but considering the Avialae’s titles, well. That was a different ball of wax entirely. That would be something to talk with him about, too... at least, when they got some alone time.

As the music drew to a stop, Hilana did as well, not at all even winded from the lively rounds, despite the bewilderment of the young man who had been working to keep up with her by the time the Sovereign had essentially ended the music now that she was getting up. That was one of the nice things about being relatively unknown, she could be a wildcard and hopefully step up to whatever expectations they had of her. She knew full well what Patricians thought of her own Caste, but the girl was determined to step up and not fall on her face tonight. She listened, her eyes wide and her hands vanishing within the extravagant sleeves to hide any small display of fidgeting that got away from her. She hated to admit that the excess fabric was useful for that, but useful it was. But all fidgeting was still as she stared in frank astonishment to see the portal on the wall, and all of a sudden, things made a bit more sense from earlier in the season.

The pilgrimage. Through a portal. Finn had been right about that guess. Well, one thing was for sure, Hayima’el would not need to come with them this time. His adventures would be on his home turf, not this one that was so far away. So close, and yet, so far. She didn’t say a word, didn’t make a sound, but she certainly mouthed, ‘Founders’ in wonderment before collecting herself once again. As people made their way through the portal, Hilana’s breath caught in her chest as she stepped through, her senses practically on fire as she kept herself reined in. She hadn’t been prepared for that, much less the new structure that they now found themselves in

She did accept another glass of wine as they were being offered amongst the guests, murmuring a “Thank you,” to the attendant as was natural instinct for her. Where the Vastian she had been dancing with moved closer to be amongst his own, crowding to get a better look and situation, Hilana was content to stay within the crowd and observe from that level of safety, and perhaps she would be able to circulate some more, too. As the music began once more, and the cheers were loud, her own voice joining in before she took a sip of the sparkling wine and began to investigate the Temple of the Radiant Rending, her curiosity getting the better of her.

[Arvælyn]

Arvælyn had enough experience with stage choreography, that the courtly dances were comparably simple to pick up. He might have asked Phocion to shift one of their martial lessons toward a bit of dance instruction, but he was loath to summon one of his half-brother's uniquely icy scowls. Besides, he had many more important things to learn than a promenade he could pick up by flowering the wall for a bit before taking to the floor.

His hands were cool as ever when Finn took hold of them and they made their way into the midst of the great chamber with its sundry strangers- Many of whom were blood relatives who didn't know he existed. To be in front of the stony-faced Sovereign was a daunting thing- her golden gaze scanned frequently across the lines of dancers at their revels. Did he imagine it lingered upon him? His focus was upon the dance, and his aligning his Symphony to syncronise with Finn's so their steps might be seamless. It felt like a scene out of a play or a storybook. A princely ball in a fantastical realm leaping and twirling before an empress with a miniature sun hovering over her crown.

He could have danced all night, but such was not to be. The music changed and a pulse surged into his Symphony that forced his feet to halt. Blinking at the sensation, his eyes were compelled toward the throne and she who sat it. He stared at her in awe both manufactured and genuine. He had never felt a Mesmer more powerful.

The crowd began to fill the gaps between the erstwhile dancers, as proclamations were made by the Sovereign and the Ambassador. The queen confirmed that the moonborn girl who'd entered with his mother was indeed his long estranged sister, and then announced that the next phase of the party would take place thousands of miles away.

"Wow... I guess it's back to Ailizane we go." He said to Finn. He felt he needed to force a cheeky smile to pose a joke that wasn't a joke: "And don't get any ideas when we're on the other side. We have to come back." He knew Finn would remain in Solunarium for him. At least to a point, but he yet feared they would cross it. He wasn't sure whether it would be through his own deeds or because of the severity that surrounded them in this land where candour and façade danced together in just as courtly a fashion as the ball guests all around them.

He clung to Finn's arm as they followed the lazy flow of the guests as they crossed through the portal into Auris. Though the transparent walls, he regarded Kaladon and the word echoed in his mind as it had in the Temple of Midnight's Mother. It took the intrusion of an Aurisian servant into his sightline with a tray of drinks for him to be broken from the reverie. He nodded and accepted the drink, looking to Finn.

"Looks like our pilgrimage just got a nifty shortcut, innit?"

[Finn]

It was a relief to dance with Arvælyn, their symphonies entwined even when the steps demanded their fingers not be. In general, he buffered his own from all the state mesmers attempting to adjust his mood. He let a bit seep in, but he kept his music his own for the most part.

Finn was happy.

That was until he felt the Empress' Rune command him. He thought he might have resisted, his own power strong enough while she settled the entire room into her cadence, but it wouldn't behoove him to earn her attention, let alone her ire. The dance stopped, and he tried to hold onto that happiness that existed when it was just him, Arvælyn, and the music. His eyes settled on Thalya IV, the Ambassador, and all that played out before them. He paid more attention to Arvælyn's sister, though, because she shared blood with his lover more closely than most of his diverse cousins.

"Huh."

He grinned at the joke. "Well, I'll be plotting my way through the slipspace as we go, so unless there are wards... I could probably get us from Tertium to Kaladon without melting my brain. But I won't kidnap you to Karnor just yet."

As they walked toward the portal to take their turn traversing vast distances, Arvælyn was so good as to secure them a fresh drink.

"No wyverns or camels for this Prince of Solunarium!" he declared.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

► Show Spoiler

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Despite being a dancer of consummate skill, Æros made the rather deliberate decision to abstain from doing so. People did ask him, some who had done so because they recognized him for who he was and others who just fancied looking at him. Some even asked purely because they’d noticed he’d been turning everyone down and, on the off chance he’d say yes to them in particular, it would be a greater boost to one’s ego. Still, he just was not at all interested in doing so. The reason for that was ultimately made unclear as he did not say, even to those who had enough gall to actually pose the question in his direction.

Other than these interruptions, the starborn Færie stood still as a statue, looking out at the crowd before him. His perception thereof was really not making much use of his sight, however– he was mostly passing the time listening to the Symphonies of those around him, to the magic of other Mesmers and so on. He cast nothing at all, just opened himself to the songs of the room.

His own Symphony that evening was an odd thing. Despite the majestic beauty of the scene that played out before him, he felt disconnected from it, almost disassociating himself from the reality in which he stood. When his mind did this, nearly all of his own emotions were softened. Positive, negative, anything in between, nothing felt like his own. To some degree, he was aware of why this happened, though that did not always give him the ability to do anything about it, much to his own vexation. He hated to feel like an outside observer to his own reality, yet here it was, happening again.

Then there was the command of the Empress’ Craft. It broke his trance-like state, his gaze shifting over in her direction, a vague sort of curiosity donning his features. The movement of the room around him shifted, slowed, then stopped in anticipation for whatever it was she sought to say. Æros’ breath caught at the reveal, fascinating as it was beautiful.

The elven Færie followed the languid flow of people through the portal, for there was no rush, no hurry. Æros wanted little else than to just enjoy the scenery around him once he’d made it through the glistening, magical doorway.

- - -

'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Pharaoh]

R E V I E W

Æden
Lores: 8
XP: 15 (May be used toward Runeforging)

Æros
Lores: 8
XP: 15 (No magic. Maxxed Mesmer XP.)

Arvælyn:
Lores: 8
XP: 15 (Masquerade or Mesmer)

Finn
Lores: 8
XP: 15 (Maxxed Mesmer xp)

Hilana
Lores: 8
XP: 15 (No magic utilised)

Raithen
Lores: 8
XP: 15 (No magic utilised)

Injuries/Ailments:
Inebriation

Loot:
Solunarium just got a nifty portal to Auris, although it may only be used at the behest of the Aurisian Embassy.

Notes: Major plot points set into motion. Keep an eye out for developments in future open threads!