Keski, a nervous disciple of Petrichor, Aletta, an even more nervous disciple of Petrichor arrive, following Brigida.

Rowenova has joined the a brick and wood wishing well.

Delilah has joined the a brick and wood wishing well.

There are several dozen people milling around. One person is juggling. One has just finished up a lackluster song. Sabella--I mean, Queen Alarice sits on a wooden throne, leaning to the side and looking off into the distance as if she is monumentally bored. "Yes, thank you, maybe if you were juggling flame it would have been mildly more interesting," she gestures to dismiss the poor juggler, who looks pretty downcast.

Acilius, 2 House Mazetti Aspirants arrive, following Valerio.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Benvolio, a beleaguered valet arrive, following Berenice.

Already bound hither and fro searching for a book -- funny how those volumes one through five make no sense when two is missing -- Delilah all but skates through the corridor beyond the Assembly of Peers. She holds no interest in duels, alas, but the shortcut from here to there tends to be an effective one. Never mind when Scribble makes a sound of put-out delight, and tugs on her sleeve. Is it a vendetta solved in blood? No. Is it a pile of ash from him to slay and a joker to vanquish with sharp words? If only! "Look, it's the Queen." Delightful. "You might actually succeed this time," he adds.

Her sharp upturn of a smile holds a sliver of warmth and plenty of danger.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Benvolio, a beleaguered valet leave, following Berenice.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Benvolio, a beleaguered valet arrive, following Berenice.

Another young gentleman steps up and starts to recite some poetry. "There was a young fellow named Rick--"

Sabella as Alarice holds up a hand immediately, "NEXT!" She shouts, giving the man a baleful glare until he moves on.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Renault, the mustachioed Lycene arrive, following Theo.

2 Ashford House Guard arrives, following Olivia.

Rowenova leans up against the nearby well, armored bracer resting down for a support structure to hold up the young scout whose wolf pelt is actually back framing around her fair face (healed up) rather than down over it too often.

Rowenova leans up against the nearby well, armored bracer resting down for a support structure to hold up the young scout whose wolf pelt is actually back framing around her fair face (healed up) rather than down over it too often.

Brigida walks in, the clack of her walking stick a little muted by all the green on the judgment green. She'd be more annoyed, but as the Archlector of Petrichor it's kind of her job to be totally down with grass. She glares at jugglers and singers and other failures at life, parting the crowd before her until she gets up to where she can see 'Alarice'. "Huh. I always imagined her being a little less skinny."

Berenice heard the NEWS, and there's a bright smile of amusement as she steps out onto the Judgment Green in a pale blue seasilk gown, her dark hair left loose to tumble down her back. She looks about to catch sight of the crowd that's already gathered, and then she starts winding her way closer. Is there a line? She could surely START a line.

Olivia arrives, presumably investigating rumors of necromancy? Or at the very least, she's curious of what the fuss is. With a little basket on her arms, she makes her way through the gathering crowds, and eventually arrives at the side of a familiar face. "Well, you are not... in a panic, Archlector, so I will assume the dead have not literally risen. Is it a performance of some kind?"

Richard walks at a steady pace. He then performs a respectful bow to Queen Alarice "Your Higness, Richard Wyrmguard, an honor to meet you." This is followed by another bow to several people in the vicinity as well as his introduction: "Richard Wyrmguard." Then he stands firm and remains quiet.

Berenice has joined the line.

Sabella -as-Alarice gives Richard a bored look. "Was that the best you had? An introduction?" She asks dryly. "I suppose no one's tried that yet."

Rowenova has joined the line.

Pasquale has joined the line.

Perronne is returning from the Archives of Vellichor, humming lightly to herself, when she hears rumors that Queen Alarice has been resurrected and is holding court. That's a little odd. So she tags along with the steady stream of folks going to gawk. She peers around with interest at the torches, the bards, the THRONE! And oh, hey, there's a person on the throne. She starts trying to slither through the crowd to get a better look. She probably isn't subtle, and someone probably gets a very polite foot-trodding or elbow to the ribs.

Pasquale is here for the show. He navigates through the crowd in a sweep of dark silks, rustling himself eagerly up to join the line. With as much dignity as he can manage but, he rather wants to play.

Delilah has joined the line.

If there is a line, Delilah's on her way to it, the swirl of her dress in liquid motion. The Thorn's comment earns a faint check of her gaze, a marked smile. "Every bit as gracious, no doubt." That quiet remark lilts on as she falls in behind Rowenova. "I wish you best of luck," she remarks gently.

Turn in line: Berenice

Rowenova glances back to Delilah with a little grin, "Thank you so much, and... you as well!" She offers over a side hug to Delilah.

Paloma has shown up to keep an eye on the going ons, dressed in her full King's Own gear and wary glare for the people merrymaking.

"The last time the dead rose it wasn't too bad. A bit smelly, but you can't blame them. Rotting away is just a part of life. Even when you're dead." Brigida tightens her fingers on her walking stick and gives a dry chuckle. "Just ask me again in about ten years." She turns to look over the crowd, offering Perronne a wave when she sees the woman.

Olivia has joined the line.

Catching Brigida's wave out of the corner of her eyes, Perronne first turns around in a complete circle, to see who the Archlector might be waving at. When it appears to be her, she blinks, peers at Brigida, then waves back enthusiastically! Her path changes to bring her closer to Brigida, and when she reaches her, she curtsies quite properly, before leaning over to whisper a question.

Richard focuses on "Queen Alarice" and smiles at her briefly. Seeing as he was the first to speak, he looks towards the queen, and then he starts to speak, "Have you ever heard the tale of the goddess Death and the Physician?"

"I believe," says Brigida to Perronne, just loud enough for any other confused people to overhear, "it is some sort of contest to get a special prize at Lady Monique's latest bid for attention. The Gala, hosted by Monique, Lady Monique, the Minx of the Marches, Lady Minx, an enormous statue of Lady Monique and then, in very small letters, Prince Tyrval."

Sabella-as-Alarice glances over toward Brigida before drawling, "Archlector. I remember you as younger. Ah, yes, you may stand over here," she waves to Paloma and gestures to her side. "Did Prince Tyrval send you? Late on purpose, I imagine." She rolls her weighted attention back to Richard. "I don't believe so, but you'll need to get in line if you want to try to impress me."

Whether or not she was actually in any sort of true concern over Alarice's appearance, Olivia does seem reassured by Brigida's typically unimpressed certainty over the whole thing. "I do not think we will so easily be rid of you as that, Archlector," she comments back, with fondness. "I hadn't even really heard about it although I think I did see some people gathering once and not realize what was happening. I'll go and try just for fun! Shall I show her one of the flowers? Maybe she'd like that."

Richard nods "Very well." And he soon joins the line.

Richard has joined the line.

3 Redreef Guard arrives, following Ember.

Ember arrives, following Ximun.

Since a line seems to be forming quite quickly, Sabella-as-Alarice gestures Berenice forward with a sigh, "Let's get on with it so I'm not here all night. It takes quite a bit to impress me, but sure. Why not. It's not like I have a kingdom to maintain and run and protect or anything."

Perronne laughs a laugh that is only a shade more hearty than a giggle at Brigida's summary, then glances around somewhat guiltily. "That sounds fun, though. And look! The, uh, Queen is very regal! Her petitioners are very well-dressed! Although I notice none of them brought an elf for her to stab, which seems like it would cheer Her Majesty up a bit." This last in something of a stage whisper.

It looks like Berenice /has/ managed to start the form of a line, and she sweeps forward to dip into the lowest, most respectful of curtsies. "Your /majesty/," she says, eyes bright as she lifts them to Alarice!Sabella. "Princess Berenice Velenosa. Such an honor to meet you." But she looks to Richard, then, to see if Alarice will be hearing him first. When she dismisses him, she continues. "I understand that you have a token that you're reluctant to part from?" Her head tips. "I know that you're a woman of action who doesn't care for a simpering of words. So I have to wonder -- what /does/ tempt the most famed and illustrious of all our monarchs? From everything that's been written -- adventure, I think. So that is what I bring." And what she actually does is tell a story: one of Alarice herself, the sort that is told to children, embellished beyond what's realistic -- she didn't /actually/ have a griffin, obviously, but the children always love those versions of the stories. It's a tale of heroics and bravery and discovery -- in short, very /Grayson/.

Berenice checked charm + performance at difficulty 60, rolling 12 higher.

Brigida nods to Olivia. "Queens can be capricious. They are allowed. Though Alarice was practical. She might like your flowers." At Sabella's goading the Archlector gives a soft snort. "Ah, too true," says Brigida to the Queen, tone dry, but something approaching a smile on her lips. "I am rather old. I'll never forget the day I delivered Prince Tyrval. So loud and needy, with all the crying and screaming. He was pretty bad as an infant, as well." Leaning on her walking stick she walks up to stand near Sabella. "I assume this means you aren't expecting me to regale you with song and win the prize."

Arriving with the Baroness, Ximun glances aside to Ember. "Want to guess on how long she gets to hold onto her token?" he asks curiously. He has no want to get in line.

Paloma lets out a little grunt of displeasure as she moves to take the spot next to Sabella. She looks her over a few moments, muttering something quietly before resuming her dour observance of the gathering.

Ember folds her arms over her chest, her eyes sweeping over the people gathered. "I think she'll hold on to it. Want to wager?" She asks her cousin, giving him a side look, a smirk on her face. "Remind me to tell you a story about the ..Queen there, one day." She mutters, gesturing towards Sabella.

Gianna makes her way onto the Green, regarding the musicians from the Bard's College with a critical eye. What she sees seems to be sufficient, because she nods to them and turns her attention toward the crowd.

Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, 3 Thrax Guards, Marquessa Pudding, a pudgy puppy arrive, following Sorrel.

"Sure." there's a grin from Ximun to Ember. "I win, you help with the rest of the armor I'm assembling." As if she hasn't enough, but he's gonna goad her. "Ah. Good Queen Alarice. Is she as something else as she is beautiful?" he asks the Baroness with a playful smirk. And he tucks his hands into his pockets. "I'll say she loses it before the night is fully started."

Keski, a nervous disciple of Petrichor have been dismissed.

Aletta, an even more nervous disciple of Petrichor have been dismissed.

Sabella gives Berenice a long, long, loooooooong look. But little by little, in spite of the hard mask she has on, she starts leaning forward. And then her eyes glitter at the parts where Alarice is just the damn best at everything she does and by the end she's on the edge of her seat as if she didn't live through all that or something, wanting to know what happens! As it finishes she stands and bursts into applause very much more Sabella than Alarice. Then, perhaps realizing she's broken character a bit, she clears her throat and reaches up to unclasp the medallion from her neck. "Let me preface this by saying it has been an extremely disappointing evening when it comes to entertainment so of course the first person to not be entirely bland was going to keep my attention. So congratulations, Princess Berenice Velenosa! A throne will be awaiting you at the Gala. And as for the rest of you," she eyes the crowd as she steps forward to hand the medallion to Berenice, "Maybe we'll have someone else here for you to impress in a moment, so take notes."

Perronne makes a slight little sound when Brigida is summoned to the Queen's side, but who can refuse the orders of Queen Alarice herself? Besides, there's a story! She shuffles through the crowd again to try to get a good ear on the tale, and listens with pleasure.

Armored as always, Valerio arrives with a faint look of curiosity on his scarred features. A quick turn gets him out of the way of folks filing in and out. This gives him a moment to take a look around and observe with an arched eyebrow over the eyepatch.

"You're on. If I lose, you'll get another ten thousand silvers to toss about." Ember murmurs, folding her arms over her chest. She steps away from her cousin and moves to take a seat on a bench. "Better vantage point." She says under her breath.

Berenice's lips widen to beaming at Sabella -- er, Alarice's -- reaction of applause, and she laughs with warm delight when she's offered the medallion. She takes it, holding it close between her fingers, and offers another deep, graceful curtsy to Salarice. "I'm glad that my tale proved _adequate_, at least," she says with bubbling humor. "Thank you, your majesty. You're /most/ generous." She slips off to the side, looking on as Salarice notes the potential arrival of someone else to impress.

With the idea in mind that she should at least try, Olivia finds her way toward the line, although Brigida continues to hold as much of her attention as the faux Queen, particularly as she seems set on doing her own comedy routine to go with the gala business. The bit about delivering Tyrval definitely gets a laugh. "I would almost believe all of that was true, if I didn't know better." However, turning back, she does seem a little dissapointed, or better confused, that it is all over before she has even a chance to move forward in line. "Oh. Is it over already? What a strange contest. But worth it for the necromancy Queen and Archlector comedy routine."

Sorrel struts her way into the Judgment Green, all proud and tall, heading over in the direction of Sabella and sweeping a small but dramatic bow. "Queen Alarice!" she declares. "I hear that the people are entertaining you, and I am quite interested in entertainment, being myself an elf." Or at least playing one. She's not really dressed the part, unless elves like dressing brightly, and perhaps they do, for she is quite brightly dressed. "It is I, the Leader of the Metallics, and I am quite bored. Quite, quite bored. Are there any good people out there who might entertain me?"

For the telling of the tale, Delilah is very much quiet; the demonstration of Berenice's creativity and the twist upon the story about Alarice leaves her lightly thoughtful. Faint lines dance upon her brow, and that smile curves upwards, slight but prettily rendered. "Inspiration to be found everywhere, but certainly remarkable." Her head snaps up somewhat to the woman marching in. Her finger points to Sorrel. "//You//. I contended with you yesterday and shall aim to do so again, Emperor!"

Turn in line: Rowenova

"Looks like it's already over." Ximun offers with a snort. "Though I am curious of the new entertainment that is going to be arriving shortly." And right on queue, there is a Sorrel. "Another coin holder? Would you wager to win the token of the Metallic Elf?"

Rowenova checked charm + performance at difficulty 60, rolling 56 lower.

After side hugging Delilah, Rowenova pushes off from the supportive well via her other hand behind her before suddenly becrying to Princess Sorrel with an enthusiastic tone to her Northern voice as if to sing! "Tip a glass, you stubborn lass, another drink for you. Pour the rum, it'll be fun, that's going to be 2. Keep em filled, ain't no fancy frills, 3 are down the hatch! Look at em go, there 4 in a row, Now the lass has got to go." Despite whether she does quite poorly (most likely), she still tries, even if it is not her actual turn might inspire an ear bleed! "Composed and Written by L-" but then gets cut off as a moldy tomato is thrown to splat right at her leather vest!

Brigida winces when Rowenova starts singing and looks to the queen. "Do you have any medallions to give to people who wisely don't sing?"

Sabella-as-Alarice sighs and sits back in her throne, gesturing to Rowenova as she looks to Sorrel, "Do you see what I've been having to put up with? At least now I'm not alone."

Turn in line: Pasquale

Rowenova suddenly flashes cobalt blues with smoldering anger toward those who started throwing the splatting vegetables. "YOU ARE WASTING FOOD!"

Pasquale checked wits + propaganda at difficulty 60, rolling 7 lower.

Someone yells, "Get off the stage!"

"You should have brought some more trinkets to close our ears with, Majesty!" comes the call of the male Redreef from the back as Ximun just shakes his head. "Or at least something strong to drink." he offers quietly to Ember. Tomatoes? No tomatoes here.

Gianna can't help but wince when Rowenova sings. She reaches up to rub her forehead just as though it actually hurt. And when the scout stops, Gianna looks quite relieved.

Berenice puts Legendary Medallion of The Gala in a small purse of dark violet silk with fox embroidery.

Soren is in the middle of picking something out of his teeth with a toothpick when he arrives on the green, looking like someone who didn't exactly expect the gathered crowd. Or was just passing through the area and came upon this whole...thing. With his usual vacant stare, he spits out whatever had been in his craw to the side before moving closer to inspect just what the hubbub is about.

Perronne gives the singing her best try, but no, not even Perronne can remain enthusiastic through the whole of the song. By the end, she's rubbing one ear and shuffling her feet. She throws an obligatory chastizing look towards the tomato thrower, but...there's not a lot of heart in it.

Sorrel gets aubergine and lurid green musically noted backpack from a rainbow striped backpack.

Olivia is perhaps then scared away by the singing!

Pasquale eyes the thrown tomatoes. It's nerve-inducing, that. Still, he ascends the stage with a straight-backed authority that can double for confidence, if one fakes it well enough. "Queen Alarice the Great. The Elvesbane. It is an honor just to stand in your august presence. And to hear such stirring tales as those told by the likes of Princess Berenice of the Lyceum." He might as well get some sucking up to the rep of his great house in there, while he has the opportunity. "I feel any tale I presented to you would pale in comparsion to your grandeur. But. I shall give it a go." And he does, reciting an account of one of the legendary queen's great battles. Designed to wow the crowd, though it doesn't quite, and comes off rather dry. Still, he doesn't drone on so long as to get any fruit thrown at him.

Sorrel gets a deep garnet backpack from a rainbow striped backpack.

Turn in line: Delilah

Sorrel gets Legendary Medallion of The Gala from a deep garnet backpack.

Ember makes a face, shaking her head at Ximun. "I'm only okay with losing so much silver a night." She pushes to her feet, and leans down, picking up a small pebble. She narrows her eyes as she takes aim, and tosses it at Soren, hoping to ping him on the arm.

Sorrel puts aubergine and lurid green musically noted backpack, a deep garnet backpack in a rainbow striped backpack.

Richard checked wits + etiquette at difficulty 60, rolling 29 lower.

Rowenova tumbles away from the performance area, opening up target practice for the next person who might fail terribly, too! She hunkers down just behind where Ximun and Ember are. She picks off a slimy mess from her vest and skirt before quickly chucking it into a rubbish basket.

"Many people ask me if my husband ever disliked that that was my title. Elvesbane." SAbella-as-Alarice tells Pasquale as she steeples her fingers a little giving him a thin smile, "I actually always made sure it was used at any and all events he attended. Perhaps I ought to add another title tonight. Tell me," she leans a bit to Sorrel while keeping her eyes on Pasquale. "Can you think of something to strike fear into the hearts of all those that think they are worth the time of the Queen, but are very, very, very clearly not. Slayer of Time Wasters seems a bit long."

Gianna takes a deep breath. The singing is over. She adjusts the bronze adornment in her hair and turns toward Sorrel. So brightly coloured. Gianna wrinkles her nose, seems to realize she's wrinkling her nose, and promptly looks away.

Calling out from the gallery, Ximun offers unhelpfully, "Queen of Boredoms!"

Rowenova has left the a brick and wood wishing well.

"Redundant." Sabella-as-Alarice says to Ximun.

"Acurate." is Ximun's counter.

Rowenova finally flees after a certain cult of scout haters caught on to where she was hiding out back there! Little do they know, she can outrun them!

Arm pinged, Soren's eyes snap toward the thrower, as if evaluating a threat. Oh, it's just Ember, causing him to roll his shoulder, and with it, whatever tension that had been in his neck before ambling on over. The medic clicks his tongue, the sound air being sucked through his teeth. "Hey." he greets to Ember casually, giving an idle gesture to the crowd gathered. "The fuck is all this about?"

Ember claps Ximun on the shoulder, laughing. "You're going to get a reputation. I look forward to you getting yelled at. Then they'll come to me to bitch, and I can laugh too." She smiles up at Soren and shrugs a shoulder. "They're putting on a play or some shit." She points at Sabella and adds. "She's a Queen, or something."

Sorrel shakes her head slightly at some of these performances, looking quite unimpressed. "So you're saying they're doing better for you than they are for me, my lovely Queen?" he inquires of Alarice, quite in character now. "For they've already won your mighty token. Tsk, tsk, humans. Why can't they be a bit more like you? Heroic and impressive?" He spreads his brightly colored hands to the crowd. "Come, surely you cannot be all of you unable to reach this impossible task? Where's human ingenuity to impress the Greatest Mage of All Time? For that is how so many came to join my Order, the Metallics."

That hug leaves the Whitehawk girl laughing, and her arms briefly wrapped around Rowenova. Presuambly she robs luck for the sake of fortune. As that impassioned and untested song begins, her expression takes on a wince, sympathetic and clearly touched. It may not be touched in the best way. "Oh! Let us write it out later, at least!" she calls out her encouragement. Then comes Pasquale's attempt, a soft smattering of applause for his efforts, another of those tales wrought well. When he escapes the fruit, it's her turn. From that wishing well she must set her path on a celestial firmament. Sunset tracks with Delilah's movements as she sinks into a curtsey for Alarice:Sabella, and then the garish brilliance that is Sorrel. "You dare to stand before us, o Emperor, in a land once you knew, once you shaped, and ask about impossible tasks and ingenuity? Will you not give favour to those who have held true against the darkest tides?" And hers is a quiet telling thus, a negotiation rendered in terms of the victories against darkness, sacrifice and bravery, against the shadows churned. <Laglaglag>

Richard is unsure if his story would be any good, but he does go into it either way. "Let me preface this, stating this is completely fictional and in no way represents any real life story, any similarities are pure coincidence."
He pauses and then starts the tale: "A man managed to get Goddess Death to be the Godmather of his son. When he decided to become a physician, Godmather Death decided to give him a gift. This gift was a very powerful herb said to heal anyone."
He pauses there and with a deadpan face continues after taking a breath of fresh air. "The rules were simple, if the Physician saw Goddess Death at their feet, they were sure to die. But if at the head, he could give them this mysterious herb and they would heal."
Another short pause "As time passed by he heard of a king who was gravely ill. And when he went there, his Godmother was at the feet of the King. But the physician, moved to helping the king, decided to trick death by switching the king, so that he may have his Godmother Death at the king's head. Then he gave him the herb and he recovered." Now he pauses in case someone doesn't want to hear the rest.

"You mean I'm already not getting yelled at, cousin?" Ximun asks Ember as he glances behind him to the wolfy girl. "What brings you over to the 'Don't give a phuck' area of the event?" comes the question from the huntsman before Ember goes summoning over Soren. The man tilts his head in an upnod of greeting. "She was placing wagers, but I think I already drained her dry."

Brigida looks over to Sorrel's colorful outfit and grimaces. Then she sits back and watches as people fail to impress the Queen. "Ah, Alarice, you make me wish I actually had known you." When Richard tells his story she gives him a prim raise of her eyebrows at every pause. "Next time write it down on your hands, dear."

"Enemy of Ennui, perhaps?" Pasquale asks wry, with a parting sweep of a bow. "In any case, your grace, it is an honor to be publically slain by a legend such as yourself." And with that, he retreats. Offering another little bow to Delilah, and a look that isn't without sympathy, as he returns to his spectating spot to watch her.

Richard offers Berenice a brief smile "It tends to be a long story. So I tend to let people let me know if they wish to know more or if they don't wish to."

Binky, an asshole crow, Gregory, an unassuming disciple arrive, following Aureth.

"I feel like everyone misheard me when I said to take notes from the Princess Berenice, who talked about me, and told exploits where I was a hero, and instead heard 'think of a boring story unrelated to the Queen and tell that one instead' and I feel badly now that my guard has to stand here listening to all of this." Sabella-as-Alarice gestures to Paloma with a flat look to the crowd. "Where'd that juggler go? I'll take that sort of performance over the lot of you boring me to tears with...what was he talking about? Tea?" She waves a hand dismissively at Richard, "Everyone knows Death drinks hot chocolate with cinnamon. Also souls. NEXT!"

Soren listens, his brows on his shaved head making the knots all the more visible. Looks like he's mentally chewing over what he's looking at, hand scratching at his neck. "Huh. Sounds poncy as shit." he states absently. "But I've been told I have shit taste when it comes to arts, I ain't probably the best person to evaluate." The glance between the pair of Redreefs is quick, before adding. "Yeah, she's pretty good at that."

4 Thrax Guards arrives, following Fatima.

Voice pitched to carry, all be it with obnoxious cheer, Aureth kibbitzes from the back of the crowd: "Death doesn't DRINK souls, she HUGS them."

Delilah checked charm + diplomacy at difficulty 60, rolling 20 higher.

"If I've ever yelled at you, you'd know it. These other ladies?" She gestures around the area. "I don't think they'll have the same oomph." Ember says to Ximun, smirking as she shifts on her feet. "You haven't even managed to be an annoyance yet. I hope you're not working on it." She gestures between Soren and Ximun. "Cousin, this is Soren Temple. Soren, this is my cousin Ximun. He apparently starts fights or something."

Paloma's frown only deepens when she is gestured towards, the glare of her displeasure being laid on no one in particular.

Richard smiles apparently unbothered and stands away from the line, having not succeeded in his task. But he looked quite content with himself, despite not really earning a token.

"Knowing that hugging is involved has made me decide to live another sixty years," drawls Brigida, narrowing her eyes as she picks out the Archlector of the Queen of Endings.

"Good. The longer you live, the better." Aureth gives Brigida a rake's grin. She's seen a hundred rake's grins like it over the decades, though. "I don't want seniority, keep it away from me."

Oh, hey, there is a voice she knows! Perronne's head cranes around so fast that one might fear to hear a crack. She starts wiggling through the crowd towards Aureth, trying to sidle over to just inside conversational range. Or maybe she's just trying to take shameless advantage of the space an Archlector gets in the crowd as opposed to a merchant. She whispers something to him, with a grin.

Brigida sniffs. "Tell that to my joints."

Keski, a nervous disciple of Petrichor have been dismissed.

Aletta, an even more nervous disciple of Petrichor have been dismissed.

Fatima saunters her way onto the scene where she has heard foul magics (or, alternatively, pageantry) are afoot. "My my, what is all of this?" she wonders. While she makes a swishy approach, it turns out to be... quite the crowd, and when some of the mob gets just a little too close and begins to jostle her, a few of her guards decide to take offense and 'gently' remove the poor fellow from her path. "Ah, sorry, sorry, they're a little overzealous sometimes," she calls out, and makes her way closer. "So is this a play?" She'll probably just ask someone at random, wherever she ends up.

Valerio has joined the small circular table.

Aureth's teeth flash wide at what Perronne whispers, and he tilts his head in an acknowledging way.

"Death doesn't fucking hug souls." Soren doesn't ever look affronted by anything in life, but that almost borderline bothers him. His attention is diverted back to Ember and her cousin, causing him to look more at the latter. "Apparently? So he may or may not start fights? There's not much of a middleground to be had in that kind of thing, y'know? You either start a fight or you don't."

Turning his head to the left so he can observe the crowd a little easier. Valerio simply shakes his head, and finally picks himself a seat to observe the organized chaos. A quick look to Acilius and he has a flask of something in his hand and takes a quick sip. Stretching his legs out before him, his arms fold and he leans back in his seat to watch those that have swarmed the throne area.

A huge hideously ugly mastiff, a Solace acolyte named Pyotr arrive, following Thena.

A huge hideously ugly mastiff, a Solace acolyte named Pyotr leave, following Thena.

Sorrel is standing next to Sabella-Queen Alarice, portraying Platinum, Leader of the Metallics, who seems fairly well impressed with Delilah's works. "Ah, such accusations," he says, for she is a he for the moment, and he nods. "Yet you impress me, and should none best you, you may have my Token with goodwill. Are there any others who might impress the Leader of the Metallics, standing here beside Queen Alarice?"

"I ignite passions or some shit." Ximun comments dryly. "Which is a poncy way to say that I got people's knickers in a twist last night." he shrugs his shoulders. "Not everyone is all ready to go all handholdy Progressive." Though he frowns. "I should get back home. And make sure you didn't stiff me on the wager." There's a wink at Ember. Because his player's medicines are starting to kick his ass.

Fatima checked charm + seduction at difficulty 60, rolling 0 higher.

Relic arrives, following Harlan.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Richard before departing.

Ember smirks towards Ximun. "Rest well. I hope you managed to get that room fixed. The pink was really bothering me." She offers her cousin a casual salute. "Try not to get in trouble as you walk home."

Delilah hisses through her teeth, her fingertips brushing through her hair with a laugh. "I will owe a debt for any who would rather not," she says, "for whatever that is worth. For that," she gestures. "He is my life's work. If you choose not, I would tell you of that man. It may be worth more than a night's enjoyment, it's worth a lifetime's gain."

"Shit I haven't even started yet, Ember. I was enjoying the blueberry lotion you left." A tip of Ximun's head in a bow, and he's hoping down from the peanut gallery to head off.

"She does too," Aureth says with easy equanimity. "She spun them from Her blood and spins them in her hands, and then embraces them when their time upon this world is done. I'm really the wrong person to argue that one with, friend."

Sabella-as-Alarice waves a hand, "She won't hug your soul if you keep arguing with her favorite." She points out to Soren. Then she sighs dramatically and looks to Sorrel-The-Metallic, "You should've been here earlier. A princess told a story about me and made me seem even more glorious and brave than I already am. Tyrval would've hated it."

"I'm sure the story didn't even manage to do the reality justice, your majesty," Berenice calls over to Salarice from where she's slipped off to watch the other petitioners, a smile bright on her lips.

Harlan comes in from outside and pauses, apparently here to watch, more than anything else. Thus, he's fairly quiet.

Brigida watches as Soren and Aureth discuss the finer points of thanatology. To Soren she says, "Even if he were making up everything he's saying, he's still got more authority on the subject than you, dear. So agree and look forward to your hug."

"Yep, I don't fucking care." Soren says with one of his empty smiles before looking back to Ember saying her goodbyes to Ximun.

"Enjoy being wrong, then," Aureth says with an easy shrug, after murmuring an aside to Perronne.

"Unless you find this interesting, we can go find a drink somewhere." Ember says turning towards Soren with a nod. "I'm already a few thousand silver poorer for having been here."

In between public theology bits, Perronne has been whispering to, and listen in turn to quiet words from Aureth. But something he says as her flinch back and give him a shocked look. "You WHAT?" That was not her inside voice, but she doesn't seem to notice. Instead, she's reaching up as if she's going to feel the forehead of the Archlector of Death and check him for sudden, raging fevers.

Captain Teemo, a mountain lion cub arrives, following Leona.

There's a particular tension in Soren's neck. Like something is aching to snap. Oh good, Ember is distracting the medic. And that empty smile passes onto her then. "Aw, I was just about to start having a good time." He scratches at his neck, considers, then shifts his shoulder like something on his back was itching. "Alright, sure."

Brigida watches Soren, then shakes her head. "You'd think a young man like that would be comforted to know that eventually someone would hug him."

3 Redreef Guard leaves, following Ember.

Ember leaves, following Soren.

Fatima still isn't precisely sure what's happening here. There is a dead Queen and a dead hero and maybe some other zombies crowding the place. Someone is kind enough to inform her that she's allowed to go 'impress' said hero. "Really? Mm. Well, alright." She stands there a moment, uncertain precisely of what she's supposed to be doing, and then takes the natural course: she reaches up and 'adjusts' the bodice of her gown, giving it a bit of a tug and side-to-side shimmy, and once satisfied with the state of her bossom, prepares to make a slinky, sashaying approach toward where the two not-corpses are gathered. "My Queen, my... Lord Metallic?" Ok, she's uncertain on titles there. "It's beyond an honor to meet you both. All of us, I think, have been raised on stories of your deeds, and to meet you in person, in the flesh..." She bites her lip, "It's beyond a pleasure." There is some eyelash-batting and all the rest as she siddles into a place standing between them both, though she eventually turns to Sorrel and reaches a hand toward her chest, just to... barely brush near the opening of her colorful bodice. "Perhaps shall we go find some other kind of entertainment?" Then a glance back to Alarice. "You can bring Tyrval if you like. More's the merrier, and I find him a charming fellow on rare occasion." She touches fingers to her spider medallion as she mentions him.

Cheryl the Assistant Innkeeper, Scourge, a sweater wearing rat-dog arrive, following Mae.

Aureth's skin is without any sign of fever, and the look he gives her is one of wry, tolerant humor. "Not a madman, I assure you," he says. He even bows his head a little to permit her better access. "Some of the stories are pretty wild, I know." He does nothing to intervene with the retreat. "There's really no way to break that one gently, I suppose. It /does/ make it very silly when people decide they know Her better than I do, though."

Stepping out onto the green, jingling as she goes, is Mae. She's in a black dress, with a dark cloak over it. Her usual attire. Just as usual is her wide-eyed stare. What in the heavens is going on...

Leona meanders onto the Judgment Green, looking about curiously at the crowd in general. There's a peculiar sort of tension to her shoulders as she looks around - as though she's looking for someone in particular. At her side, a half-grown mountain lion cub gambols, mostly sticking close to the tall woman's side. She murmurs something softly to the cat and then just... watches. And then she sees Aureth and there is a bit of relief evident on her features as she steps over and murmurs quietly to the Archlector, "what the actual fuck is going on right now?"

Aureth cackles despite himself, and then leans in close to mutter a reply to Leona.

Brigida watches Fatima with a raised eyebrow, then says to Platinum, "That's certainly a new tactic." Sitting back on her heels she clamps her hands down on her walking stick and mutters, "It beats someone else deciding their song about the Queen is worth hearing."

Perronne snatches her hand back, and turns brick red. "I am sorry, Blessed Aureth. I didn't mean to imply..." and then she just sort of trails off and tries to look invisible as a member of the King's Own approaches. She's not a small woman, so it completely fails to work.

Sabella-as-Alarice snorts at something Brigida says, then turns her bland attention to Fatima. And barks a laugh that's not quite amused, but it's probably better than the stony silence that has greeted others, "Please, by all means, if Prince Tyrval looks your way you are welcome to the attention," she leans back on her throne with a very slight smile, "Just be careful of the pig." And without explaining that she looks to Sorrel-The-Metallic. "Well? What say you? She did make me laugh. If only for her misjudgment and later embarassment."

Valerio has left the small circular table.

Acilius, 2 House Mazetti Aspirants leave, following Valerio.

Gianna stays where she is, watching. Blinking. She is attempting to keep her face neutral. It is... sort of working?

"I think this is our winner," Sorrel says with a flourish toward Fatima and a wink. "But please. My heart is for my lady only, and since her death I have been quite sad," the Lord Metallic informs the Thrax princess, reaching for the Medallion of the Gala to hand it to her. "There will be a particular seat for you at the Gala and special prizes."

Mae eyes Sabella, then Sorrel. She looks no less confused, but opts to say nothing at all. Instead, she spots Aureth and Leona, and heads that way. It's Leona she'll end up next to, stepping up without a word (though with plenty of jingling), and reaching out to wrap a hand around the knight's arm.

Delilah has left the a brick and wood wishing well.

Scribble, a Delicate Social Butterfly have been dismissed.

Harlan has joined the small circular table.

Leona looks at Sorrel and one eyebrow goes way, way, WAY up. She is frozen, even as Mae puts a hand on her arm, and then she shakes her head and murmurs something softly to Aureth. And then she smiles to Mae - that normal, welcoming smile. "Mae. It's been far too long."

Scribble, a Delicate Social Butterfly leaves, following Delilah.

Aureth checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 31 higher.

With her own prize secure and having seen who got the other, Berenice flashes a smile to those she knows and starts making her way off of the Judgment Green.

"Oh, darling, its fine if you just want to cuddle and talk about it. I understand that's sometimes all someone needs." Reassuring the faux-Metallic, Fatima's look turns from vampy to more sympathetic, though still with a lot of eyelash batting involved. "Even if I should have to regret it for all time. I suppose Tyrval is always there for backup." The Second Best Blood Mage is sure getting a rough treatment, today. Offered a medallion, she does reach for it, looking curious more than excited, as she's simply shown up here and seems still only half-aware of what's happening. And then, realization: "Oh! This is what Caspian was going on about, the other day. I ran into him but everything he was saying was terribly confusing." She taps her forehead. "Acting, acting. I get it."

Harlan has, apparently, seen what is going on here, and has also seen that it's ending. So, he turns and starts to make his way elsewhere. He's spent enough time, after all!

Harlan has left the small circular table.

Relic leaves, following Harlan.

Aureth scratches his hand at the back of his neck, and turns eyes a little overbright towards Perronne. "Don't worry," he says. "I know it's weird." Teeth set against the curve of his lower lip, he adds, "Hallo, Mae. Have you met Mistress Perronne yet? Perronne, this is Mae Culler, and Dame Leona; each is one of my favorites. In very different ways."

Sabella claps her hands twice then stands, "And that would be the end of this court gathering. There is still one medallion out there to be found, just be better than we saw tonight. The two of us shall see you again at the Gala. Please don't bore us to tears there as well. Should you wish to lodge a complaint, the King's Own right here will not want to hear anything about it and neither will Lady Monique. I definitely don't. Thank you for coming, the realm seems to be fine. Good night!" And with that, Sabella-as-Alarice pushes away from the throne and the torches go out! Spooky! Or, you know, those two Bard's College musicians no one noticed had stopped playing went and extinguished them on cue.