A crisis had been averted and the collective relief felt by all manifests itself in unadulterated glee and merriment. All around you, Ageless celebrate the simple pleasure of being near their kindred. They smilingly call out to one another to joke and chat, or help themselves to heaping plates of food and fine drinks.
Philosophy, Calming, and a few volunteers pour themselves into the task of filling the bellies of their brethren. Serenity and Constancy are two of the kind souls who have offered their aid, and run back and forth carrying trays of food or pints of ale.
Keeper, Smith, and several others are playing some unusual form of drinking game. Occasionally, a cry will come from that direction, indicating that someone had rolled the cup of dice very well or very poorly.
Nearby, Corvus has withdrawn to a place of quiet contemplation. With an expression of longing upon his face, he sits upon a large boulder and looks up at the night sky. His mother notices his discontent, and she joins him, protectively wrapping her arms around him. He gazes up at her and manages a weak smile, more for her sake than his own. She whispers something into his ear, and whatever it is, it is enough to raise his spirits, at least for the time being. He returns to his typical demeanor and begins to laugh heartily as he realizes what Dennan and Fensten are up to.
Bran finds himself surrounded by several young Ageless women. As the son of the Archon and the General, he possesses the innate charisma of his parents, though he is usually far less outgoing than his brother, Corvus. For the night, it seems that he and his elder sibling have switched roles. While Corvus is comforted by his mother, Bran looks uncertain and slightly embarrassed over the attention that is being given to him. Due to his parentage, his youth, and the fact that he is one of the few mortals in Avalon, many of the Ageless find him simply intriguing.
He smiles politely as a young woman puts her hand upon his shoulder and whispers something into his ear. Whatever it is, it is enough to make him blush and he quickly excuses himself so that he may be red-faced and bashful elsewhere.
Muse is engaged in conversation with a handsome young gentleman who wears the colors of the Fierce Legion. Her lute is upon her lap and she is tuning the instrument to a setting that is more to her liking.
Everyone seems quite at ease, and despite the general noise and exuberant behavior that abounds in this area, the atmosphere is relaxed and comforting.
@Sembas:
When you part from Archer, you find Besnik looking up at you with his beak agape and, if it is at all possible for a falcon’s eyes to grow wider, the most stricken falcon eyes you have ever seen. He glances towards Faile who merely rolls her eyes again and shrugs, an oddly human behavior for a fowl. Besnik shakes his head as if dispelling the vision from his mind and begins to strut back and forth as he squawks his disbelief to Faile in “Falconese.”
Faile gestures to a low branch nearby and Besnik gestures to his recently injured wing. Faile rolls her eyes again, suspecting that Besnik may be one to milk his injuries, but acquiescing to his request out of pity. She picks him up in her talons once again, and you see the two make their way towards the branch where they might share a laugh at you ridiculous humans and your silly spit-swapping.
“I… uh… I’m sorry… I… don’t know what came over me… I…” She laughs nervously and offers an embarrassed shrug. “Dear me… you must think me awfully forward. I assure you I’m no common bit of smut, I just… we have a great deal in common, and me and Besnik and… and you and Faile… I just.”
She bites her lip and you can tell that she is contemplating what implications, if any, might result from that recent moment of indiscretion. A dismissive shake of her head is accompanied by a slight smile. “Oh the hell with it!”
She kisses you again, but your moment of passion is interrupted as you and Archer find yourselves doused with freezing, cold buckets of water.
“What the-!” Archer glances upward and shakes her fist at the culprits.
You see Dennan, in his bear form, and Fensten holding empty buckets in their razor sharp teeth.
“Dennan!” shouts Archer.
Dennan shapeshifts back into his human form and laughs so hard that the mountainous man nearly falls out of the tree. Fensten, too, lets out a playful roar, and you realize that poor branch is noticeably bowing in the center.
Dethys arrives beside you and tsk-tsks at your sopping appearance. “My, you two look quite the mess.”
He is accompanied by his wife and son, Captain Blood, and another gentleman that you do not recognize.
“Here. Let me take care of that for you,” offers Dethys. A simple wave of his hand results in you and Archer being alleviated of the soggy condition of your clothing. You find yourself in perfectly dry clothes.
Blood smirks at Archer knowingly, and the latter blushes slightly.
“Birds of a feather, eh?” poses Blood.
Archer smiles shyly, and quickly attempts to draw the topic of conversation away from the topic of her interest in you. “So, Dethys, who is your new friend?”
“Ah!” exclaims Dethys. “Archer… Sembas… This is Depheir Kogthar. Sembas, Depheir , like yourself, has been recently Chosen. He’s a Childer Immortalis who has just accepted General Fury’s offer to aid the Bulwark. I’m sure you two will become quite well-acquainted.”
@Fenwick:
As you attempt to engage yourself in the conversation, you notice that Hestia abruptly stops talking in mid-sentence. She raises her head to the air, as if sensing something that cannot be perceived with the eyes.
“Hestia?” speaks Cleo. “Are you alright?”
“It’s… nothing… it’s just… I thought I felt something,” responds Hestia, her voice accented with confusion.
Cleo frowns and shoots you a knowing look before returning her attention to Hestia. “What was it?”
“I just thought…” Hestia shakes her head as if dispelling some troubling thought. “I’m sure it’s nothing, my dear. Just my mind playing tricks on me.”
You hear Cleo’s voice within your mind, and you quickly realize her message is being directed at Cardack. “I swear to you, Cardack Silenus, if you upset this poor woman…”
“I don’t intend to!” exclaims Cardack. “Damn it! She must have sensed me here.”
Knowing that you might not understand, Cardack explains. “Those of the Legion Immortalis can sense each other. If you bond with another of our kind, the feeling is even stronger. Hestia and I were quite close. Even though she does not actually KNOW that I am here, part of her can feel me. Luckily, she probably thinks I’m dead, so I doubt she will further investigate this matter.”
Hestia rests her hand on your elbow. “Oh, yes! Cleo has an amazing home, not too far from mine actually. She has the most darling little garden. I’ve been watching over her abode during her absence, and it has not lost any of its beauty. You simply must see it, Fenwick, especially now that its mistress has returned!” Suddenly, Hestia’s smile dissipates. “You… you are staying, Cleo… aren’t you?”
Cleo smiles, but there is a touch of sadness there. “I don’t know if I can, Hestia… Not yet, anyway. I still have to guard the gates.”
“But there are others who can guard it,” insists Hestia. “We can help you! Dethys, Fury, me-”
Cleo shakes her head. “It is still my responsibility. However, if I can solidify my ability to divide my person, I might be able to come up with a more permanent solution. However, for now at least, I’m afraid that I shall have to return to the gates after tonight’s festivities. But I promise I will come back soon!”
Hestia nods her understanding. “Well then… We shall just have to make the most of tonight, shan’t we?”
Cleo glances up at you with her devastatingly radiant smile. “I intend to.”