Forum Home Lusternia.com Lore Wiki Vote! Forum Rules VOTE ON TMS!
Home› Life in Lusternia› World Library› Event Scrolls

Nelras and Alexandria's (unusual) wedding

AlexandriaAlexandria
edited September 2019 in Event Scrolls
Cloud-strewn gardens of cirrus and sky.
The fragrant scent of wind wisps and skyblooms fills these beautiful aerial gardens, carried on the sigh of a gentle breeze. Their dewy petals kissed with condensation, these cloud-spun flowers are well-tended by both sunlight and rain, healthy and vibrant in their colourful array. They blossom in abundance behind elegant, curlicued fences of translucent crystal that have been sculpted to mimic the whimsical, circuitous nature of wind. Colour has separated each section of the garden, meticulously organised so as to create an intricate, floral mandala when viewed from above. A spiralling, glass-wrought staircase ascends to reach its centre, then stretches out into a prismatic walkway to allow one to leisurely stroll through these cloud gardens. Floating above the floor, a round and fluffy wisp of cloud is ready for travel.

<Alexandria>
She is a feathered warbling trill mist-wreathed demigoddess changeling. She is slender and willowy, and the near-translucency of her skin gives an almost gaunt quality to her thin frame and pale colouring. Keen eyes of stormy grey are stark against the light flesh around them, and slightly quirked lips of lavender give a cast of friendliness to her face. Her broad, feathery wings are of a shining silver-blue that matches the plumes on her head, gemstone stars studding their surface also. Tattooed on her hands is an illustration of a boreal cascade of crystalline snowflakes. She walks with the truefavour of Czixi. She walks with the truefavour of Isune.

Dazzling gemstone stars dance along each silvery-blue plume that falls from her head in a flurry of celestial radiance, their sidereal beauty unmarred by any other colouration. The top tier forms a crown while the rest follow in a pattern that grows longer until they reach her shoulders where they then cascade down the back of her neck to terminate at the waist.
She is wearing:
threaded prayer beads of the Welkin Goddess wrapped several times around her right wrist
a nebulous pauldron of trailing mist
an entrancing red rose tucked behind one ear
a star-adorned gown of midnight blue silk and gossamer
starry midnight blue sandals of winding straps.

(Hallifax): Merlose says, "Hello, Hallifax! Today is a beautiful day, as today marks the wedding of Quintessence Nelras to the Marquessa Alexandria Shevat!"

(Hallifax): Merlose says, "For those interested in attending, and I hope it's all of you, please make your way to the Aerie's cloud gardens, where the wedding will be held very shortly."

A baleful shroud of mist encompasses the morning sky as Czixi, the Welkin manifests Her presence fully within the Basin of Life.

(Hallifax): Merlose says, "For those who aren't familiar with the location, make your way to the crystalline overlook, above the Transcendental Aviary, and REPOSE WISP."

(Hallifax): Aiya Ehc'zi says, "We will be with you presently!"

Iatira arrives, following Overseer Choros Shevat, Syndicate Agent.
Arriving on a round and fluffy wisp of cloud, Choros disembarks the fluffy transport.

Choros wipes the back of his hand across his head in relief as he mutters, "Whew."

Choros gives you a peck on the cheek.

Arriving on a round and fluffy wisp of cloud, Kethaera disembarks the fluffy transport.
You flash Choros a joyous smile.

Iatira flashes you a joyous smile.

You give Choros a peck on the cheek.

Overseer Choros Shevat, Syndicate Agent says, "I almost fell from that cloud. It really should be checked against safety regulations."

Daraius arrives, following Aramel Shevat.

Arriving on a round and fluffy wisp of cloud, Aramel disembarks the fluffy transport.

Iatira Savath says to Choros, "It's the zoo of animals."

Iatira nods her head sagely.

Arriving on a round and fluffy wisp of cloud, Sylandra disembarks the fluffy transport.

You say to Choros, "There is a failsafe measure. Nothing to be too concerned about."

Arriving on a round and fluffy wisp of cloud, Twan disembarks the fluffy transport.

Twan curtseys gracefully.

Kethaera inclines her head politely to those around her.

Nelras smiles politely as he inclines his head in greeting to the recently arrived guests.

Iatira flashes Nelras a joyous smile.

In the distance, a cluster of figures becomes visible, descending from high above in the direction of the gardens.

Choros raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Iatira smiles softly.

You clap your hands together merrily.

Cutting wood into sturdy boards, Daraius assembles a frame. He then stretches a cloth over the frame until he holds a perfect canvas, suitable for painting a work of art.

Daraius mixes the tinctures together and creates a palette of fine paints.

One arm in Aiya's and the other extended beside her, Ruin descends from the skies to land upon the prismatic walkway. Mist envelops both the two women and the human on Aiya's other side, whose robes flutter as they alight upon the ground.

Cloud-strewn gardens of cirrus and sky.
Floating above the floor, a round and fluffy wisp of cloud is ready for travel. There are 2 frisky puppies here. There are 2 green parakeets here. There are 2 curious young kittens here. A noble  unicorn wanders here with an air of quiet serenity, a fluid shimmer of silver light playing about his long horn. An unexpected vision in emerald, Ruin stands here with poise and grace, a battered sword hovering at her back. Glittering in a periwinkle and gold dress, Aiya Ehc'zi stands here, observing her surroundings intently. Humming idly under his breath, Eurael lingers here with an intent, focused gaze. Researcher Merlose is here. Barely visible beneath a thin veil of swirling grey mists, a mourning dove is here, rubescent streaks for tears and flecks on wings like blood. Iatira Savath is here. Minister Daraius Shevat lingers here, his figure traced in a soothing aura of effortless serenity. He wields a knout of scintillating golden motes in his left hand. Overseer Choros Shevat, Syndicate Agent is here. Lady Sylandra Shevat, the Winter Sonata is here. She wields a gnomish shop ledger in her left hand and a delicate crystal staff in her right.

Choros inclines his head politely to Aiya Ehc'zi.

Choros inclines his head politely to Ruin.

Appearing as a tall, intense human, Eurael bears an unsettling timelessness that suggests his image may be nothing but a lie. Little of his skin is visible - his robes are high-collared, and bear two layers of sleeves. One is tight to his skin, and ends in silk gloves of the same dark purple hue as the upper layer, which billows in a bell like shape to the elbow. A sweeping mantle not unlike a silk gorget spills from his throat, embroidered with an intricate silver pattern. The thread echoes the colour of his hair, which is long and tousled on the top, cropped close on the sides. A short beard that frames his square jaw. His handsome face is dominated by his blue eyes, their sapphiric forms cold and intense.

Eurael says to Ruin, "I am impressed. That was far more controlled than I expected."

Iatira's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

Merlose's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

Nelras turns to the new arrivals and, smiling, says, "I am glad that you all could make it."

The corners of Ruin's mouth turn up as she grins mischievously.

Aiya Ehc'zi curtseys gracefully.

Daraius dips his bewhiskered canid muzzle to the new arrivals and other assembled citizens.

Sylandra curtseys gracefully.

With great warmth, Aiya Ehc'zi says to Nelras, "We would not miss it for the world."

Alexandria beams at Ruin, giving her a brief round of applause. "Yes, I am

Ruin winks at you, then flicks her left hand, dispelling the mist around them. She loops her arm back into Aiya's and brushes a swathe of condensation from the side of her gown.

Seeming quite unlike herself, and yet at once entirely comfortable, Ruin stands here in a beautiful emerald gown. It is a simple fall of pleated cloth that gathers on one shoulder and cascades down over the body, leaving the other shoulder bare. It comes together in a false belt at the waist, leaving the sides of the torso uncovered, before splitting off again - as if the gown were but one long strip of material. Though the material comes down as far as the ankles, the lack of side panels grants it a dramatic split all the way up each leg, modesty only granted by the tight wrap of cloth that serves as a short underskirt. Astonishingly, her usual riot of dark brown hair has been clawed back into a crown braid, though many pieces of it have escaped to frame her dark-skinned face. But there is some sign of the normal Ruin - for Salvation rests at her back, suspended there by skeins of mist, and she has made no attempt to hide the weathered look to her face or the scars that mar her cheek and throat.

Nelras ceases to wield a frosted glass and wood viola of dawn-touched hues in his left hand.

At Aiya's other arm, Eurael stands with straight-backed posture, his sapphire eyes gleaming. "The Lady will be present when it is time," he states, his voice low and melodic.

Nelras ceases to wield a mechanical fountain pen in his right hand.

His tail swishing rhythmically, Minister Daraius Shevat says to you, "How are you feeling, thrice-great grandpup?"

A semi-translucent overdress, edged with thick panels of opaque periwinkle silk, envelopes Aiya's form. Another thick band of that same silk cinches her waist, drawn into an oversized bow. The sheer silk of the dress itself is starched, granting it an a-line shape unnatural to its thin nature. It is pale gold in hue, and has been covered with a further application of gold and silver leaf, granting it the appearance of gently flaking metal. Beneath it, adding a second dimension to the gown's shape, the lucidian wears a silver sheath dress that hugs tightly to her shapely form. A daintily featured lucidian with a resting expression of hope, Aiya stands with poise and grace. Natural, crystalline striations cover her entire body, lending a rough-hewn edge to her otherwise peerlessly clear form, most notable upon her head - where they splay forth to trail out in finespun curls that tinkle with prismatic radiance.

Appearing as a tall, intense human, Eurael bears an unsettling timelessness that suggests his image may be nothing but a lie. Little of his skin is visible - his robes are high-collared, and bear two layers of sleeves. One is tight to his skin, and ends in silk gloves of the same dark purple hue as the upper layer, which billows in a bell like shape to the elbow. A sweeping mantle not unlike a silk gorget spills from his throat, embroidered with an intricate silver pattern. The thread echoes the colour of his hair, which is long and tousled on the top, cropped close on the sides. A short beard that frames his square jaw. His handsome face is dominated by his blue eyes, their sapphiric forms cold and intense.

Alexandria smiles brightly, saying to Ruin, "Love the gown. Aiya does amazing work." She turns her smile to Aiya Ehc'zi, and adds, "Yours is also wonderful."

Aiya Ehc'zi's crystal body swells as it glows a deep royal purple.

Daraius nods in agreement to Ruin and Aiya Ehc'zi.

Choros frowns down at his suit, brushing a bit of dust from the sleeve.

Choros purses his lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as he carefully gathers his thoughts.

Regarding the gathered guests with a gentle smile, Nelras says, "I am glad that each and every one of you could be here this afternoon. I do hope that none of you found the journey to be difficult."

Choros starts dusting a single-breasted, bespoke suit with quartz buttons.

Minister Daraius Shevat says to Nelras, "With Counsellor Aramel leading the way, it was a painless transit from the opera house."

Quintessence Nelras, Her Silvern Legate says to Daraius, "Ah, wonderful. I am glad to hear that."

(Luminous Quokka): Twan says, "You plan to wed with a spatula in your hands? Is it a promise to keep him fed or the gentle version of a noodle roll?"

You cease wielding a sticky spatula of Solstice peppermint in your left hand.

You cease wielding gleaming spectral tongs in your right hand.

Aiya Ehc'zi glances wryly at you and hides a grin behind her hand.

Alexandria fans out her wings briefly, as if considering an attempt to hide behind them as she laughs quietly.

You tell Quintessence Nelras, Her Silvern Legate, "Are you ready, my love?"

Clearing his throat, Nelras says, "Please might I ask anyone who is wielding weapons to put them away for the time being. I assure you that they will not be necessary here." He glances quickly at Ruin. "Of course, you may still wear them if you wish to, so long as you do not feel any need to use 

Choros's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Ruin smirks.

<People start unwielding things>

<Choros starts removing a bunch of jewellery>

(Choros) Tall and slender, this young man seems the epitomy of youth and innocence. He is an alluring sileni corporate demigod. While his race is rarely seen in the Basin of Life, this doesn't seem to deter this young man from wearing fine clothes and seeking to live life to its fullest. Hair of a cinnamon hue cascades down the back of his head and almost hides a pair of short, nubby horns, the hair ending at the base of his shoulderblades in a mass of curls. Brown, warm eyes smile out from underneath neatly trimmed eyebrows inquisitively, with a wide nose and a luscious smile directly below it. His body, where not covered by clothing, seems graced with a very fine layer of golden hairs, almost downy in texture. He walks with the truefavour of Czixi. He walks with the truefavour of Isune.

Iatira's eyes twinkle enchantingly at Choros.

Choros shrugs helplessly at Iatira.

(Luminous Quokka): Nelras says, "Choros, I said weapons. Not 'Everything'. Please don't remove everything."

Overseer Choros Shevat, Syndicate Agent says to Iatira, "I clank when I walk. Don't laugh."

Choros's eyes sparkle with amusement.

A look of utter annoyance showing on his face, Choros glowers darkly.

Nelras tells you, "I am ready, my love."

Twan begins to wield a warm tulip of dawn in her left hand.

Merlose flashes Twan a joyous smile.

Merlose begins to wield a cool tulip of dusk in her left hand.

(Order): You say, "We are both ready whenever You are, my Lady."

Overseer Choros Shevat, Syndicate Agent smiles and says to Eurael, "Good day. I don't believe we've met before."

Eurael inclines his head politely to Choros.

Despite the clear sky, mist begins to roll into the gardens. At first thin and insidious, its presence is soon so voluminous that it becomes thick, opaque and cloyingly cold.

Nelras tells you, "Ah, I believe that the Lady Welkin has arrived."

Whatever Eurael was about to say in return is never heard, for he closes his lips and turns to observe silently.

Within its cinereous depths, the flowers around you are swallowed whole, stealing every inch of colour from the elaborate floral mandala. Soon the gardens around you are naught but mist and sky, as if the entire world had vanished.

A perpetual current stirs the mist, making it appear as if movement comes towards you from all sides. At the moment that this begins to instil a sense of nervousness into the congregation, something shifts on the staircase.

Much of the Welkin Goddess's form is recognisable. Her hair flutters long on one side and shorter on the other; She bears the same shifting, storm-hued skin. In this instance Her eyes are pure grey, identical in shade to the cloak that flutters around her neck and scatters mist in Her wake. But these colourless aspects of Her form stand, today, in sharp contrast - to the deeply hued, blood red gown that envelops Czixi's form.

Moisture hangs in the air around the Welkin Goddess as delicate skeins of mist drift in Her wake, cascading in every direction in defiance of gravity. It is amidst these tendrils that She hovers, alternating between constant, agitated movement and impossibly perfect stillness. There is an intensity to Her presence that belies mortality, and certainly She is a radiant immortal. But She does not have the implausible figures of Her kin, appearing instead as a diminutive human, barely four foot from the top of Her head to the tips of Her bare toes. She has blue-grey skin that shifts with Her every movement, rippling like clouds in the sky, changing from thin striations to overcast shadows and back again. Thin, asymmetrical locks fall to frame Her face, clipped close to Her head on one side and reaching down to Her collarbone on the other. As myriad as the twilit sky, that hair flits from every shade of indigo through to ebony, with highlights that take on a greyer tone. Her sharp and delicate features are otherwise unremarkable, save for the slight turn to Her perpetually darting eyes and the darker hue of Her lips.

She is wearing:
an armoured circlet of fulminating sparks that sheds lightning from Her brow as She moves;
a fluttering cloak of frayed faille that swirls with thread-like skeins of mist;
a bisected silver-and-crystal cyclone armband around the top of Her left bicep;
a captivating gown of glistening crimson that envelops Her body in bloody splendour;
and a delicate mistglass hand chain upon Her left hand.

You look at a captivating gown of glistening crimson that Czixi is wearing:
Rich, blood red velvet envelops the body of the Welkin Goddess in an artfully draped gown. A lace bodice, adorned with beads, envelops Her chest with a sweetheart line. Silk of the same crimson hue runs both underneath it for modesty and over it to grant shape, sweeping dramatically over one shoulder. On the other arm, the silk extends out of the bodice like an armband, before wrapping down to join the skirt as it descends from the waist. Asymmetrical and layered in an almost formless manner, the skirt extends from a straight line at the waist. At its longest it skims just below the Goddess's feet, and at its shortest parts to reveal the bare skin of Her upper thigh. Whenever She moves, the material glistens, as if it were made of nothing more than liquid blood.

You look at an armoured circlet of fulminating sparks that Czixi is wearing:
Crafted from gleaming palladium, the circlet is a wide band that stretches around the Welkin Goddess's head - much of it disappearing beneath the choppy fall of Her shifting, storm-hued hair. Four strips of metal have been bound over one another to create a stiff structure, layered in a shallow, step-like formation. Two other strips, curved to follow the line of Her cheekbones, descend from just in front of Her ears and offer a guard to the rest of Her face. At the crest of the circlet, where it armours the bulk of Her forehead, a teardrop gemstone has been set amidst a spiral of white chalcedony; lightning sparks and ricochets perpetually from within its glowing heart.

You look at a fluttering cloak of frayed faille that Czixi is wearing:
Pale, cloud-like falls of frayed faille silk envelop the Welkin Goddess's form, sweeping around Her neck like a scarf and falling from beneath that coil in gravity-defying ribbons. At first glance it appears as if the silk is simply splaying at the edges, threads askew - but as the Goddess shifts the drifting strips of cloth twist and warp, emitting tiny peals of grey mist as they move with a mind of their own. They hang all the way to the Goddess's knees, where they splay out into scattered raindrops that fall about Her bare toes.

You look at a bisected silver-and-crystal cyclone armband that Czixi is wearing:
Woven in thin bands of silver and crystal, this windswept heirloom curls about in a perfect cyclone upon the upper arm. Sterling silver comprises the majority of the armband, swirling about in curlicues reminiscent of the Air Plane's constant, howling winds. They twist and wind to form an unusually symmetrical eye of the storm as they coil about the arm. Here, the sharp design of a crystalline dagger plunges itself into the cyclone's centre, bisecting the armband perfectly in half. An embellishment of frost-touched crystal rimes the armband's edges, bestowing upon the silver the mesmerising, yet icy quality of the chill gale its design so intricately mimics. When caught by a passing beam of light, the translucent crystal shines as if glistening with condensation.

You look at a delicate mistglass hand chain that Czixi is wearing:
At once a piece of great complexity and pure simplicity, the base of this hand chain is a platinum bracelet studded with shattered shards of mistglass. Dark and smoky in hue, the Divine power within these fragments shifts so frequently that at times the edges of the shards appear to blur. From equally spaced points along this bracelet, four platinum chains extend. They rest on the back of the hand, crossed over so as to give the impression of being woven amidst one another, as they extend down to thin rings made entirely of the same mistglass. The outer two rings are twisted, whilst the inner two are a traditional rounded shape, bearing the same nebulous edges as the shards within the bracelet itself.

Bringing Ruin and Eurael with her, Aiya Ehc'zi curtseys deeply, lowering her head in respect.

Daraius acknowledges Czixi with a brief dip of his bewhiskered canid muzzle.

Choros inclines his head politely to Czixi.

Iatira curtseys gracefully before Czixi.

Nelras bows respectfully before Czixi. A slight smile crosses his lips briefly and he says, "Thank You for the honour of Your presence, Lady Welkin."

Alexandria dips into a slight curtsey before Czixi, spreading the skirt of a star-adorned gown of midnight blue silk and gossamer as she does. She says simply, "Thank You."

Smiling warmly Merlose curtseys before Czixi.

With the barest hint of acknowledgement, Czixi continues to descend the stairs, Her bare feet not touching the ground, but skimming the air just above it. "If there is anything that I am fond of, it is the impossible."

Kethaera bows respectfully to Czixi.

The mist that has come now to waist height ripples in Czixi's wake as She passes through the congregation, coming to stand before you and Nelras.

Czixi, the Welkin states, "There are some things that are certain within the demesnes of Creation and Destruction. One of those things is this: we break each other."

There is a sudden, harsh snap to Czixi's voice. No longer is it soft and murmuring - it is hard, clipped, vicious. "You are here, now, because you wish to challenge that fundamental truth."

In a flurry of movement, Czixi whirls, facing both Nelras and you and all others as well. Her gown spins in her wake, the faint light straining to permeate the mist making it appear, momentarily, to scatter blood throughout the vapour. Her voice continues, coming now from Her physical body alone.

"To stand against the inevitable nature of all persons, mortal or Divine, to destroy and be destroyed by that which they love."

"To snap the yoke that wraps around the throats of those who love another, the harness in their lover's hands."

"To look upon this person and trust them wholly, completely, with everything that you are or shall be."

By now, Czixi's face has taken on a violent, angered expression, and at Her side you see that Her hands are clenched so hard into fists that essence spills from Her palms. "I am fond of impossible dreams," She says, almost as a broken laugh. Then She sneers, cutting off the brief mockery of mirth. "This one is foolish."

Choros crosses his arms expectantly.

Daraius exhales a terse huff of a growl.

Bitterly, Czixi, the Welkin whispers, "Fools together, you look upon it and choose it regardless, dancing that fine line between bravery and idiocy and falling into the embrace of both for your trouble."

"Pitiable, enviable, you lift your heads in defiance." Czixi glares at you, Her expression withering, and barely even spares a glance for Nelras, Her eyes skittering over him as if disgusted. "You stand together before these people who would judge your leap of inevitable doom."

Czixi snaps Her arms out, throwing them as if to ward something away. That essence which had been shed by the grip of Her nails splays out, sending tendrils of immanidivinus energy surging forward. They weave tight, but harmless bindings around the hands of Nelras and you, and begin to creep upwards.

Nelras regards the Welkin Goddess impassively as She speaks, until the moment the tendrils of energy reach his hands. A slight smile comes to his face then and he glances at you.

Alexandria watches and listens unflinchingly, showing no sign of concern as she glances at Nelras briefly before turning her eyes back to Czixi.

Czixi, the Welkin intones, "What will you vow to the world, foolish lovers, to proclaim this impossible dream?"

Choros smiles softly at Iatira.

Aramel is silent, but her gaze flickers over Czixi with concern, the barest hint of a frown furrowing her brows.

Iatira smiles softly at Choros.

Kethaera gives only a passive smile, turning her gaze to Nelras and you.

Twan nervously wrings her hands, almost crushing the tulip between her fingers.

Merlose sways slightly in the mist after the goddess's speech, before her ears swivel towards Nelras and you.

Nelras turns his head to slowly look at each guest one by one. "Here we stand," he begins with a smile that does not hint in any way at the unusual situation in which he finds himself. "In the presence of those who care for us the most, as we prepare to begin to face the impossible together." His attention turns to you and does not stray as he continues to speak. "In the sight of all who are gathered here, I would speak my vows to you."

Quintessence Nelras, Her Silvern Legate says to you, "Let us take flight as our dreams and our hearts have taken flight, for I shall always fly at your side."

A glassy look appears in Aiya Ehc'zi's eyes, and she shifts her arms, dropping them to interlace her fingers with Ruin and Eurael's.

Choros surreptitiously takes Iatira's hands in his, listening to the vows.

Nelras' voice grows more intense and his expression more determined as he continues to look only at you. "I shall remain with you as you soar ever higher through clear skies and good times, and when the skies grow dark I shall be with you still."

As Nelras speaks, the tendrils linking him to Czixi surge up his arm. They sneak dazzling skeins of power around his throat, slowly coiling around the skin there in a slow, incessant spiral - but do not tighten.

Daraius stares at Czixi intently, twitching his tail in agitation.

Daraius' ears swivel attentively towards Nelras and you.

Nelras does not show any sign that he has noticed the coiling tendrils, such is the attention he is paying to you as he continues to speak. "And if the skies should grow so dark that you cannot fly, then I shall offer you shelter from the storm until you can fly again." He lowers his voice, although he still speaks loudly enough to be sure that all can hear him. "And if you find that your wings should fail you, you shall fly still for you will have my wings to carry you."

Lowering his voice further as he speaks only for you, Nelras whispers, "And I will love you, always."

Aramel's expression, which has grown clouded at the sight of the misty skeins around Nelras' throat, softens at the words into something almost wistful. She glances away, towards you instead.

Alexandria smiles softly at Nelras as she listens, her eyes dark with emotion and her focus intent on his face.

Kethaera turns her attention fully to you, brushing back a few strands of hair away from her face in the process.

Ruin quietly manifests a handkerchief out of nothingness and hands it to Aiya, whose glossy crystalline cheeks have a clear need for it.

Alexandria's smile blossoms into a radiant expression, with no hint of anything other than joy. "In this wondrous place surrounded by friends, family, and most of all, the ones that I love, I rejoice in every moment of luck, chance and - most importantly - determination to fight against the Fate that did not make the path that led here clear or simple, so that I can speak for all to hear the words that sing in my heart when I see you, Nelras."

Pressing one hand to her throat, Alexandria says to Nelras, "With all of my voice, I love you. I will always tell you what is on my mind and in my heart, so you will never have to wonder what guides me as we face what life brings together."

As you speak, the tendrils linking you to Czixi surge up your arm. They sneak dazzling skeins of power around your throat, slowly coiling around the skin there in a slow, incessant spiral - and as before, do not tighten, their frayed edges caressing your pressed hand.

Touching one hand to her temple, Alexandria says to Nelras, "With all of my mind, I love you. I will hear and especially listen, so you will always know that what you wish is dearly important to me, and that I will fight the Fates themselves to help you find it."

Lowering both hands to hold them out, her palms facing up, Alexandria says to Nelras, "With all of my actions, I love you. I will be by your side whenever you wish it, through stormy skies or calm, ready to support you in every endeavour, be it our usual endeavours or seeking the impossible."

Taking Nelras' hands in her own, Alexandria says to him, "And with all of my heart, I love you. I will be a vessel for your solace, your joy, and anything else you may need, so you know that there is always a place for every part of what you feel."

Merlose sniffles softly, brushing a happy tear from her eye as she beams at the mist-twined couple.

As the vows are made, the binding strands of essence pulse with a slow, rhythmic heartbeat.

Kethaera blinks, brushing at her face again before quickly glancing away from the pair.

Softly, hoarsely, Czixi laughs. It is not a pleasant sound. It is the sort of sound that echoes through the halls of the i'Xiia Asylum, and this close it is all the more unsettling. "I hear you," She whispers, Her face illuminated by a mad, dazzling smile. "You are fools together. Perhaps you find that a comfort, and perhaps it is one, though it is small and futile."

Sylandra gently touches her rime-covered prayer beads as she listens, her face impassive as the frosted string coils in her fingertips.

Her whole body tensing, Czixi, the Welkin hisses, "Cling to it."

Czixi winds Her hands around Her own strands of essence as She speaks, pulling Nelras and you closer to Her, even as the tendrils begin to splay out from Nelras's throat and reach towards those fraying from yours.

Czixi, the Welkin hisses, "Cling to that foolishness, that stupidity, that flame within your heart that screams a protest to this truth-wielding world."

"It will not save you," Czixi spits, now close enough to you and Nelras that but inches remain between. Her smile continues, Her eyes now empty and white. "But that is not the point - for you will burn together, a pyre of your own making, and is that not worth every scar upon your mind and your body and your soul?"

Then, as abruptly as it appeared, Czixi's smile vanishes. It is replaced by the same anguished, feral look as before. "Face the world as the fools you are," She states, and that light that surges from Her essence illuminates every inch of the mist around you. It is blinding, all-encompassing, there is nothing but the mist and the light and Her voice, bitter and hard and broken. "Bound in word and bond and deed, together and together and together."

Czixi wishes to marry you to Nelras. To authorize this, type AUTHORIZE CZIXI TO OFFICIATE.

You authorize Czixi to officiate your wedding.

Tears flow freely from your eyes as Czixi, the Welkin appoints you to a Dancer in the Firmament.

The mist around you contracts: surging, tidal in its force, much of it rushes through the gardens and crashes into the forms of you, Nelras and Czixi - sending all in its wake fluttering and tumbling. The light dims enough to show the bindings of the Goddess's essence waxing with the absorbed power, before they sink into Nelras and your bodies, leaving nothing in their wake.

When the last of the light fades, Czixi seems small in comparison, surrounded by nothing but the faille of Her cloak, its thin tendrils fluttering. "At least," She whispers, softly, lightly, as She reaches out to tilt up the chins of you and Nelras, "you will not be alone when you sunder each other into a thousand, broken pieces."

The faintest growl rumbles in Daraius's chest as he gazes intently at the wedding party and officiant.

Sylandra gently reaches over and takes both of Daraius's hands in her own.

Brushing yet more tears from her eyes, Aiya Ehc'zi brings her hands together in rapturous but polite applause.

A few moments later, Ruin reaches round and bumps Eurael on the arm, and the two of them follow suit.

Choros softly claps, nodding almost imperceptibly in thanks to Czixi.

Daraius spares a look of pure bewilderment at Aiya Ehc'zi and the other Czixians.

Iatira smiles through misty eyes at Nelras and you.

Expression now somber, Kethaera lifts her hands in a few rounds of quiet applause.

Alexandria's face is solemn as she listens, though a faint smile still tugs at her lips. She does not speak, instead regarding the Goddess with an expression of mixed respect and empathy.

Aramel's smile is slightly strained, but she nevertheless applauds the newly-wedded couple.

Twan's lips lift to an enthusiastic smile and she offers her applause as she recovers her calm demeanor.

Sylandra applauds quietly as well, the sound restrained and polite.

Nelras quietly says to you, "We shall never be alone, now." He turns to Czixi with a thin smile on his lips and there is a hint of defiance to his voice as he says, "If we are fools, then so be it. You say that it is inevitable that we shall be broken by each other's hand? I would rather that than spend eternity knowing regret for what could have been." He turns to you once more and his smile broadens.

Clearly audible above the murmurs and applause of those gathered, the sound of clapping can be heard from the side. Slow, measured, tinged with steel and gaining in volume with each clap.

"How... very... touching," a lilting, smoky voice enunciates and the clapping stops.

Choros gives a plaintive bleat, a surprisingly beautiful and harmonic chord.

With a flourish, Ruin draws Salvation from the scabbard strapped to her back.

Iatira's eyes sparkle with amusement at Choros.

A velvety indigo fog roils through the crystal wards of Hallifax. The fog carries a soft, intoxicating scent that promises dark triumphs and pleasures alike as a presence manifests somewhere within the city.

Choros sweeps the air with his hand and his eyes glow with a phosphorescent blue. (meld)

Essence still dripping idly from Her palms, Czixi hovers perfectly still, Her eyes fading to pure grey as they lock on the mist before Her. With a curl of Her lips, Her face transforms into an ugly snarl.

Nelras mutters and traces a cobalt blue pentagram in the air that remains hovering before him.

The cinerous mists about the gardens stir and bleed to a vivid indigo hue in the vicinity of the voice, dispersing slowly to reveal the radiant figure of Drocilla leaning languidly against the air itself. Her hands are gathered before Her, armoured hand frozen mid-clap upon the other palm.

Choros begins to wield a delicate crystal staff in his left hand.

Choros stretches languidly.

Daraius's ears fall back against his head and all pretense of polite patience evacuates his expression, replaced with one of open irritation.

Eurael positions himself in front of Aiya Ehc'zi, prepared to ward off all dangers.

Her voice a lilting melody, innocent but for the narrowed, wary eyes which belie the sweetness, Drocilla, the Enchantress says, "I have not taken you for such a romantic, Welkin."

"Only You would find this charade romantic, Drocilla," Czixi murmurs, Her voice hoarse and low. As She speaks, the cinereous hue to the mist regains some purchase over the surroundings, transforming it to a marbled combination of indigo and grey.

Nelras stands beside you, reaching out to take one of your hands in his own.

Aramel lifts her hand to her weapon in a quick, abortive movement, before her motions still as she glances warily between the goddesses.

Drocilla offers a wicked half-smirk of ruby lips as She takes in Czixi's form. She inhales slowly and exhales with a pleased purr, then remarks sweetly, "You do you look dashing in His colours, My dear. Is this allegiance or do you desire His place?"

All semblance of colour drains from Czixi's face - even Her furious expression fades and falls, replaced by a look so blank it seems for a moment as if She has departed Her physical form.

Coquettishly, Drocilla, the Enchantress says, "We wouldn't want to be in competition now, would We?"

Iatira creases her brow in a frown.

Merlose moves closer to the newlyweds, watching the newly arrived goddess warily.

Ruin follows at Merlose's side, keeping one eye on Aiya Ehc'zi and the other on Nelras and you.

Choros clears his throat at Merlose.

"Why," Czixi whispers, the sudden speech causing the mist about Her to flutter like a trembling breath, "are You here?"

Minister Daraius Shevat states, "Indeed."

Wisps of indigo fog suddenly obscure Drocilla's form and She reappears right besides Nelras. "Why, I have come for him, of course." She pauses then adds with a wicked smile, "As family does."

Iatira gives a horrified gasp.

Kethaera creases her brow in a frown.

Softly, Drocilla, the Enchantress says, "House d'Vanecu has long served Magnagora and Me well. Nelras here has blood of the Warlords in him. How could I not come, for him."

Sylandra lifts a dainty hand to her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.

Choros casts a glance at Daraius, shaking his head.

Minister Daraius Shevat says to Drocilla, "Nelras is as much of House Shevat as I am. His bloodline is irrelevant."

Turning swiftly to Drocilla, Nelras says, "You may have taken my sister, Enchantress, but that is..." His voice trails away and he blinks, trying to clear something from his head.

The luxurious, exotic scent of vespertine blooms fills your nostrils as the Enchantress looks down upon Nelras. Her closeness, the deep lavender of Her eyes, and the fragrance is all a heady combination which sends your thoughts adrift.

Czixi's eyes do not leave Drocilla for a second, but the mists around Her flicker into life, coiling protectively around Nelras like a cinereous shield.

Drocilla reaches out imperceptibly fast and grips Nelras' chin in Her steel-taloned hand. "Darling," She breathes, "I take all I desire. Home is always there, waiting for you. You may even sit upon His Council of Betrayal. The highest honour."

Iatira casts a worried look to Choros.

Aramel arises from her seeming shock at Drocilla's words. She takes one small step forward, and it is clear that this is an argument she has had before, though not with such exalted company. "We are what we choose to be," she whispers to Nelras, though her voice carries to the goddess too. "Even in matters of family."

Narrowing her eyes, Alexandria speaks with a touch of steel to her voice. "He can speak for himself, so I will not defy You for him. But You have entirely missed Your mark, if You think this is likely to have any effect You might desire."

Twan appears to be frozen in place, black eyes darting left and right as she attempts to understand the events unraveling before her.

Breathing deeply as he is forced to look into Drocilla's eyes, Nelras whispers, "You would offer me a seat upon His Council of Betrayal, when I would have earned no such thing? The only betrayal I have committed is that of...being here." The last words sound more forced, as if he struggles to speak them.

(Hallifax): Choros says, "Citizens of Hallifax are reminded that our treaty with Magnagora is still in place, up to and including the part where we may ask a member of the treaty to depart city premises. Otherwise, normal city protocol for guests and their treatment is still in effect."

Quietly, her voice low, Lady Sylandra Shevat, the Winter Sonata says to Nelras, "Even the Divine cannot force mortals into Their service. That is a vow that must be made of one's own volition. She may ask for you to join Her, but no matter how honeyed Her words, it is your actions that will define you, not Her desires."

Choros nods his head at Nelras.

Her sultry lavender eyes swirling with evanescing motes, speaking to Nelras alone, Drocilla, the Enchantress says, "Presently. All in due time."

(Hallifax): Aramel says, "Perhaps the Board could come to some sort of joint resolution regarding our guest? I do believe we have a quorum present."

(Hallifax): Choros says, "I welcome discourse, but our current...guest, has committed no actual crime."

Essence pools now from Czixi's hands as She holds them outwards, letting the energy within them flow forwards and join with the tendrils of Her mistcloak. The more that flows to encompass Nelras, the thinner Her form appears, poured as it is into that shield. "Take Your hands off him," She snarls, "now."

Nelras's eyes flicker to Sylandra before being drawn back to Drocilla as a languid smile comes to his face. Whispering softly, he asks, "If you believe that will tempt me, when I forsook His Order long ago, what is it that You offered my sister, Lady Enchantress?"

(Board of Directors): Kethaera says, "I disagree that a crime is necessary to have been committed."

(Board of Directors): Daraius says, "Likewise."

Drocilla's gaze shifts to Czixi, ruby lips pursed as She releases Nelras surprisingly gently. "All that was and is His will be Mine in due time." A wicked grin blooms upon Her lips as Her eyes rove over Czixi's form. "All," She adds pointedly, and with that She dissipates into velvety indigo mist, leaving in Her wake the heady scent of musk and spices.

(Board of Directors): Daraius says, "I don't believe the presence of any god ought to be suffered by those who don't welcome it."

(Board of Directors): Choros says, "A crime need not be committed to exercise one's rights to politely expel a member of the treaty from the city. Nor does it require the Board to vote or be in agreement."

Iatira gives a horrified gasp.

(Board of Directors): Aramel says, "Oh, she's gone."

Iatira creases her brow in a frown.

(Board of Directors): Kethaera says, "Good riddance."

...

Czixi, the Welkin murmurs, "Fight on, My Effervescent Sylph. I will be with you as you do."

Aian Lerit'r, Lead Schematicist exclaims to you, "A *paperwork* emergency, Chairman!

Comments

  • TridemonTridemon
    Drocilla said:
    Don't need to invite Dro, she considers herself perma-invited everywhere. Except to @Carakhan's tea party apparently.  :'(
    Try less identity/property theft. <_<
    I'm Lucidian. If I don't get pedantic every so often, I might explode.
  • ShaddusShaddus , the Leper Messiah Outside your window.
    Drocilla's gaze shifts to Czixi, ruby lips pursed as She releases Nelras surprisingly gently. "All that was and is His will be Mine in due time." A wicked grin blooms upon Her lips as Her eyes rove over Czixi's form. "All," She adds pointedly, and with that She dissipates into velvety indigo mist, leaving in Her wake the heady scent of musk and spices.

    Not sure if I should be turned on by this, or post  this gif.



    Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
Sign In or Register to comment.