Maren takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Khanne gets Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Desiree takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Aslaug takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Apollo was here early, probably. Probably! Sitting at a lucky table, with his feet up on the bench next to him, reading a book. Of course, as people start to filter in, he pulls his feet down, flashes smiles or offers a dip of his head, as is appropriate. He's got a tankard of Fond Memories sitting by him with about an inch drunk off the top. It seems appropriate.

Desiree has joined the A fateful table with bench seating.

As dusk descends on Serendipity Square, there's a pleasant buzz of activity, not the least of which is driven by Raconteur Brewing Company's ever-pleasant staff offering up a selection of libations to guests. The tables have all been drawn closer together in an arch, allowing the space between them to serve as something of a makeshift stage. This is the spot Marquessa Lianne Malespero occupies as the crowd begins to gather. Fajra must be holding her marquessa's beer as the blonde standing nearby has a pint in either hand in different shades of gold. "Welcome!" Lianne calls to the crowd. "This evening, we're celebrating a fine collaborative collection of poetry on the subject of time. The whole collection is available for everyone to take right over there." She gestures toward a nearby chest hosting books bound in sets of three. "We'll also be running a small extemporaneous poetry competition. In teams! If you'd care to participate, please let me know so that we can match you up. There are some very lovely prizes up for grabs. But, most importantly, enjoy yourselves this evening. We--" She looks toward her cohost and clarifies. "--Mockingbird Evaristo Arterius of the Bards' College and I are delighted you chose to join us."

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

Opting for the comfort of one of the side benches, Lady Desiree Wyrmguard is sat upright with her hands upon her lap. The program for the poetry resting over her thighs as her gaze remains down. Quietly humming to herself, the blonde Noblewoman is in her own world before the calling voice of Lianne perks her up.

Fortunato slips in, a shadow in umbra, gold, and dusk, and settles himself in an audience position in the back, behind the benches. He does not, as yet, take a book.

Maren steps into the festive square with understated elegance, her pace unhurried as she takes in both architecture and those gathered. Her expression is warm and curious as she pauses to take one of the collection of poetry books, and then also as the silvery-haired elder moves to take a nearby seat, settling on the edge of it and nestling the books on her lap.

Maren has joined the An auspicious table with bench seating.

Raimon arrives, with a thoughtful and pensive mien about him. He's done his best, to the very limits of his abilities thus far. Indeed, they have been pushed forward by the effort. Thoughtful. Contented. And: at Peace.

Evaristo is excited like a child in a candy store, about the selection of drinks, and has already suggested he should get one of each during the evening, cause he just can not CHOSE, but for now he has decided to go with a Fortuitous Instincts and is sipping from it, standing next to Lianne as she welcomes the guests and officially opens up this event. "Good evening, everyone!" he adds. "I must say I am truly in AWE about the poems in the On Time collection. Such talent! I am so very honoured Marquessa Lianne thought of me to cohost this lovely event." He is dressed in an outfit that emphasises his vocation as a sailor AND a bard, in a combination that is good enough to make even the richest noble jealous. He even tips his fancy new hat at the guests.

Apollo, rather than making a big showy fuss, simply lifts his chin and a curled hand when the poetry competition is mentioned; he'd like to participate, and if he gets a look of query, he'll nod to confirm.

After arriving Pasquale glances around at the various faces. A nod or two are spared and then he moves over to the table Maren has just chose and murmurs a few soft words to her.

Pasquale has joined the An auspicious table with bench seating.

Apollo has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Pasquale gets Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Fluffy, a wild nanny-cat, 2 Eswynd shieldbearers, Loryk, a cocky but amiable reaver, Klavdiya, who is definitely a handmaiden and not a reaver, Butterpup, a Graypeak Mountain Dog arrive, following Medeia.

"Fortuitous Instincts, please." Khanne orders her ale before looking for a seat amongst the growing crowd. When she first arrived, she would of course have greeted Lianne with a smooch to her cheek. Snatching up one of the collections, the shaman dressed in shades of lilac and green, finds a place to settle. When the hosts welcome everyone, her attention goes to them, and after Evaristo, she applauds lightly. "Lianne often has the best ideas," she says with a nod.

Raimon takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Siggi, a small fox, Aralie, the shy assistant, 2 Redrain Guards arrive, following Drea.

Aslaug shuffles towards the chest and pulls out a cloth bundle of books after the invitation is extendedn. Once the bag comes free, she shifts back into the crowd, running her hands absently over the cloth to feel the books contained within while peering out from under the brim of her hat at all the faces collected in the square.

As Pasquale approaches, Maren rises, offering the young Malespero lord a respectful bow, before retaking her seat. Her smile is gentle and brightens her eyes, before she replies in just as much of a quiet tone to him, once she resettles her books upon the table.

Medeia takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Lifting her chin to smile bright towards the stage, Desiree excitedly shifts against the bench sat upon. Her features bright while her soft left hand remains upon her lap and the page in the program she was just reading over. The blonde hair from her hairpin escaping slightly, framing the curve of her soft cheeks and skin.

Lianne's fingers flutter in Khanne's direction, not a wave, but a fond dismissal of that praise. "It was most definitely a collaborative effort. The Mockingbird has been a joy to work with." She turns a warm smile toward Evaristo before turning that same pleasant regard out over the crowd. A quiet bunch tonight, it would seem. With a lift of her chin, she proposes, "How about we begin by all of us writing a poem together to get to know one another, mm? We'll each contribute a line, something which begins with 'I am' and finishes with metaphor and says something about who we are." Brows lofted high, she asks those gathered, "Are you game?"

Fortunato chuckles in the back. "I am not often much 'game', but I can contribute a line, certainly."

"Sounds lovely," Apollo agrees, and lifts his beer in a lazy sort of toast. He's game.

"I can certainly try," Khanne replies with a small shrug.

Aslaug simply nods her head slowly at the suggestion, clasping her hands loosely in front of herself.

Medeia arrives with her usual few guards, who are summarily given leave to enjoy a drink and the poetry as they please. The lady herself takes one of the collections on offer and tucks it under her arm while she collects a drink - Measured Skill - and looks around to decide where she might sit. She gives a wave of greeting to Lianne and Apollo, but doesn't interrupt as the opening poetry game is explained. A nod and murmured agreement comes.

Khanne has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Pasquale takes a seat after Maren has returned to her seat and looks to Lianne and her suggestion. His response comes after a few moments, a not too certain nod.

Kethry has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Medeia has joined the An auspicious table with bench seating.

Recently returned to the city, the Princess Mother of Farhaven arrives, accompanied by a small fox scurrying along at her heels, and a demure assistant. Pausing for a moment to get her bearings, the silver-haired Mother Bear observes the crowd, listening to what is said. Spotting a few familiar faces, she inclines her head, and then proceeds to find a place to settle.

"Let me just get a bit more drunk first..." Evaristo jokes, gulping down more of that ale, which he clearly enjoys. His eyes glitter with good cheer and mischief, he nods and finger-wiggles to people he knows, which are quite a few.

Drea has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Lifting her fingertips up there is a wiggle from Desiree's position as she smiles bright, "I will take part. I promise very little."

"I am out of practice," Maren laughs, softly. "But since there is no danger of embarassing my daughter, it will be diverting to take the risk." There's more than a hint of humor twinkling in her eyes. And she offers the lord seated next to her a reassuring wink.

Apollo takes Poetry On Time - Volume I from Poetry On Time Collection.

Drea gets Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Raimon has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Apollo is sitting, drinking - appropriately - a tankard of Fond Memories, that being the only drink named in such a timely fashion. He's got one of the books from the poetry collection in hand, a finger used as a bookmark. He seems ready to participate in the introductory event, but turns back to the table, and - like he was finishing a sentence - says: "I might publish a volume after this called 'Late'. Nothing quite wanted to come together." A sheepish look, and he amends: "In time."

Winter, A Highhill Puppy arrives, following Kiera.

Lianne brightens when her proposal is answered with willingness to try from a good number of the attendees. "Wonderful!" is nearly laughed for her delight at the prospect, for her cohost's comment. Drawing a deep breath, she straightens a bit, expression turning faintly thoughtful. "Let's see what we can do to anchor it in the moment, in our temporal theme. Who we are *now*. Whenever you have your line, simply call it out. Fajra--" The two-beer-wielding short-haired blonde behind the marquessa hurries to set those drinks down now that she's suddenly called to action. "--will take notes, write our poem down. And I'll begin." Another deep breath, a pause for thought, to weigh who precisely she is in this moment. "I am a flutter of fireflies caught in twilight."

Fortunato claps twice on the end of twilight, a soft percussion. Then he looks up toward the ceiling and takes a deep breath. "I am a weed-flower out-of-season, turned away from the morning edge of frost."

6 Ivory Shields, Oubi the Owl arrive, following Graziella.

Seeing Pasquale, Medeia makes her way to greet him, and Maren near him, speaking softly to them before offering her line of the poem. "I am the waves crashing against a rocky shore."

Kethry offers from her seat next to Apollo and Khanne: "I am a link in a long chain drawn forward."

Aslaug contemplates for a few beats after absorbing some of the lines echoing around her and adds in softly, "I am a wind whisper riding the sunset."

As others speak their words, Drea listens to them all for a time, before finally speaking up, "I am a mother bear, fiercest when protecting her cubs." She has obtained a bundle of the poetry books, which rests in her lap, while the fox has curled up at her feet.

Apollo gives a warm smile to Raimon at a whispered greeting and murmurs something back. Then he lifts his voice. "I am... the languid stretch before the sun rises," he says, expression just warm enough for the words spoken.

"I am a star that shines brigher every night," Evaristo calls out, reaching for his second ale from the list. He smiles innocently. "Oh wait, haha. Maybe that isn't exactly right... How about: I am the star that lights my own way?" He beams. "This is fun! Harder than I thought!"

"I am the fun one while my sister rules." Cheekily, a smile touches all across from ear-to-ear as the Lady Desiree speaks to the room. Her fingertips wiggling towards a server to come attend.

Princess Graziella arrives just in time to hear the instructions for the game but she shakes her head politely when anyone looks to her for input, frowning softly and saying simply, "I am the tide, in an hourglass of unmaking." She offers a chilly smile to anyone who glances her way and then finds a quiet seat to sit.

While Fajra hurries to write everyone's contributions down, Lianne collects her beer, murmurs a word of gratitude, and drifts among the crowd, eyes alight with genuine joy as she takes in each line. Already, she's learning so much about everyone! When she moves past Raimon to be handed a note, she looks to it, nods and returns to Fajra to assure his quiet contribution is added as well.

Pasquale offers "I am a star shining relentlessly through the darkest of nights." before asking something of the two sat at the table with him. He looks up at Apollo's latest offering and gives a brief smile and nod. "That ws a good one Apollo."

Khanne has to think a long moment on her line, but eventually says, "I am a coiled spring waiting for the right moment to be unsprung.... Mmmm. No. I am the dawning sun rising over the horizon ready to illuminate a new day." She nods to Evaristo. "It is indeed not exactly easy."

Maren rises as well as Medeia approaches, bowing gracefully before retaking her seat. It is a seamless and easy, a natural movement, at least for the elder courtier. Once she resettles, she offers, "I am the echo of the footsteps taken before me on the path, fading into the quiet until I am stirred again."

Drea's gaze turns to Graziella as she speaks, lifting an eyebrow at the cryptic metaphor. She studies the woman closely for a moment, before turning to her assistant, instructing her to fetch her a drink.

Apollo flashes Pasquale a grateful smile, and then it grows brighter at Khanne. "It seems we're soon to meet," he says, their metaphors having an agreeable union.

Kethry looks to Raimon, who sits next to her, and elbows him. "No! That is worth saying -louder-," she insists.

Kiera steps into the room, catching on to the game after after a moment "I am a scrap of paper in air, torn and yet soaring"

Apollo beams a smile at Kiera's imagery, having caught first on the voice, then twisted to find her face - he lifts his beer to her.

Perking at Kiera's voice, Desiree's smiling across to her while a server brings a glass of the lightest beer possible. Her feet tucking underneath the bench she is sat poised upon while listening to the lines provided by everyone taking part.

Raimon's eyes grow wide at Kethry's suggestion. He looks a bit mortified. "Aye, glad Thee think so!" Raimon muses: "I'm getting better at this, the more I put work into it." (( It's true. But take effort! Raimon has stubborn-ness in excess of talent. ))

Graziella sends a tight lipped polite plastic smile to Drea when she glances her way, saying, "Change is, afterall, the thief of time." She leans back in her seat casually and seems to content to listen to other talk about themselves rather than offer more of those 'crytpic' metaphors.

Evaristo looks increasingly impressed by the contributions, listening with rapt attention. "This is lovely," he says, raising his glass in a toast to everyone.

Graziella has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Medeia listens, not wanting to speak over anyone's contributions, but she does lift her cup to acknowledge Evaristo and then Raimon as she notes their presence.

Kiera returns Apollo's smile of greeting before moving over to where Desiree sits to join her cousin

Once the last voice has called out their line, Lianne takes the page from Fajra and steps forward to read, her voice soft but certain, her posture drawn up, chin lifted:
"I am a flutter of fireflies caught in twilight.
I am a weed-flower out-of-season, turned away from the morning edge of frost.
I am the waves crashing against a rocky shore.
I am a link in a long chain drawn forward.
I am a wind whisper riding the sunset.
I am a mother bear, fiercest when protecting her cubs.
I am a cautious singer, of uncreated notes.
I am the languid stretch before the sun rises.
I am the star that lights my own way.
I am the fun one while my sister rules.
I am the tide, in an hourglass of unmaking.
I am a star shining relentlessly through the darkest of nights.
I am the dawning sun rising over the horizon ready to illuminate a new day.
I am the echo of the footsteps taken before me on the path, fading into the quiet until I am stirred again.
I am a scrap of paper in air, torn and yet soaring."

At its conclusion, she heaves a contented breath, sinking just a little, then looks about the crowd. "We are magnificent, mm?" She angles a look toward Evaristo, joy glinting in her eyes, before looking across the group again. "We've had a couple volunteers to compose poetry on the spot, and I'm certainly open to more. If anyone cares to participate, let me know. For now?" She raises her pint. "Enjoy your drinks, get to know one another, and thank you for being here." With that, she drinks then drifts toward a couple of dawn-leaning sorts.

Lianne has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Kiera takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Kethry smiles brightly at Lianne. "Beautifully done," she says.

Graziella takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Drea's expression remains stoic and unperturbed by the plastic smile she is given by the Pravus princess. She doesn't get into a wider debate on the subject, instead giving Graziella a tip of her chin in acknowledgement, before taking up the tankard of Dangerous Liasons that is handed to her by the shy Aralie. She listens curiously then as Lianne puts all the metaphors together, her lips curving in a smile. "What a lovely and unique way to begin introductions." She tips her head in a nod to Lianne's creativity, and then takes a drink, before glancing down to the poetry books in her lap.

Evaristo has joined the An auspicious table with bench seating.

With these lines collected into one poem, Evaristo's expression turn more thoughtful and serious. "I think," he says, "that at one point or another, we have all been, or are, those lines," he says, smiling lopsidedly. "Very beautiful." He raises his glass again in a toast, then he too moves out to mingle. "Drink, be merry, prepare for more fun and games!"

Kiera has joined the A fateful table with bench seating.

Smiles with a full draw of her thin lips towards Kiera, Desiree scoots on the seat before lightly clapping her hands for Lianne's performance and after to the room, "Thank you everyone for that."

Fortunato makes a low hum. "Marvelous poetry to come from many minds." He ekes himself along the back, though, rather than sitting.

Lianne settles beside Apollo for the moment, though she tracks a lurking Fortunato even as she answers, "I had magnificient material to work with," of her performance, genuinely pleased with the collaborative effort. Asked a more direct question, her brows loft high with... uncertainty, it would seem, as she looks to the man beside her and replies more quietly.

"Oh, I do appreciate how it all comes together.. it -does- make for such a lovely poem." Graziella's speaking voice is a distinct airy intonation that anyone familiar with her has heard before, it drifts along accompanied by vapid aloof eyes, "Will you have it published? I think I should very much like a copy of that one... should call it, I Am."

Evaristo grabs a chair and sprawls out on it, joining the table with Medeia, Raimon and Maren for now, so he can chat with some of the guests.

Evaristo grabs a chair and sprawls out on it, joining the table with Medeia, Pasquale and Maren for now, so he can chat with some of the guests.

Aslaug slowly dips her head once more to Lianne as she did at the first invitation of collaborative poetry.

Petroc, the most unassuming man you have ever met arrives, delivering a message to Kiera before departing.

6 First Legion Centurions arrives, following Patrizio.

Fortunato waggles his fingers toward the front of the gathering, a general farewell. "To more spectacular material," he says, and departs.

Ugarte leaves, following Fortunato.

The event is in full swing, with guests now mingling around at the tables, studying the poetry collection that is presented this event, or preparing teams for an upcoming game that is, of course, poetry-related.

Pasquale nods to Lianne. "I will Lianne."

Patrizio drifts in from the street without, with his usual entourage, though there's the lingering closer to the gate, as if he's getting the lay for the land, making an appearance that is Sebastian-appropriately late. And perhaps then some.

Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, 3 Thrax Guards, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog, 2 Thrax Elite Guards arrive, following Sorrel.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: The sun is setting over the city, the square cast in warm light and long shadows. The current rotation of drinks are posted on a blackboard, servers weaving among the crowd. A chest holds the collected set of books for the evening's official release. Take one! Anyone wishing to participate in the poetry competition need only notify Lianne.

Want to participate in a TEAM POETRY COMPETITION where participants alternate lines in the same poem? Page Lianne! Now accepting volunteers!

Graziella, wide-eyed but with a gaze that lacks the sharpness of curious scrutiny, is sitting with perfect posture at one of the tables and following the flow of conversation around the. Her vacant gazes that wash over others when they speak, only clinging occasionally to a curious word or phrase. She nods, from the corner of her attention when Lianne says possibly and then agrees with a very soft but acception nod, nearly a whisper into the edge of her glass as she off hands a, "Very good."

Graziella, wide-eyed but with a gaze that lacks the sharpness of curious scrutiny, is sitting with perfect posture at one of the tables and following the flow of conversation around the room. Her vacant gazes wash over others when they speak, only clinging occasionally to a curious word or phrase. She nods, from the corner of her attention when Lianne says possibly and then agrees with a very soft but accepting nod, nearly a whisper into the edge of her glass as she off hands a, "Very good."

Tittering quietly with Kiera beside, Desiree's sipping barely on her pale beer as she's nodding, "One to watch out for you'd say?" Glancing towards the room once more, an entertained smile kisses her lips.

For an event that is supposed to be about the subject of time, Sorrel shows up late. But perhaps that's part of her charm, the whole not being on time. She meanders in, casual smile on her face, and she nods to her cousins and her friends.

Briefly, the jade eyes turn towards Sorrel at the latter's entry on his heels, and there's a dip of his head, as if both of them seem to have chosen to arrive late, before he's meandering to get himself a drinker nd then moving in the direction of his cousin. "Graziella, are you causing trouble of the artistic kind?" Asks he, with a playful note to his words.

Maren indicates her intent to participate in an elegant lift of her hand, before murmuring something to those at the table with her with a bright smile.

Medeia joins Maren in volunteering at the behest of Pasquale. "This is certainly not the worst thing I've volunteered for."

Kiera waves to sorrel from where she chats amicably with desiree to whom she nods

Wiggling fingertips towards Princess Sorrel, Lady Desiree is leaning her chin on her knee while murmuring quietly to Kiera, "Who else should I?" Her voice a breathy whisper between the cousins.

"Cousin!" Graziella beams when Patrizio walks in and then she waves a hand playfully in his direction, beckoning him over even though he was already approaching, holding that same arm out as if she expected a quick one-armed hug of greeting on his way in. "Trouble?" She draws her brows in as if the very notion 'simply' confuses the poor princess, "I don't cause trouble, or art. I /make/ them, silly Patrizio!"

Patrizio laughs, but there's the brief, warm, one-armed embrace of Graziella as he joins. "I don't know - I kind of like the image of 'causing' art," he counters quietly, and then takes a good pull from the procured drink. And only /then/ the cast about of his gaze to see what people are up to. "Did I miss anything that I ought regret missing?"

Patrizio has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Graziella takes A fancy writing quill made from a peacock feather from a simple cloth bag embroidered with the phases of the moon.

With volunteers chiming in, Lianne rises from her seat to step toward the center of the arch of tables again. "Alright, my lovely friends! We have five teams of two among you! Such brave and brilliant souls." Really, she needs a moment to just admire everyone, so pleased is she with the degree of participation. "My magnificent cohost Evaristo will be composing with Maren. Prince Raimon will be working with Lord Apollo. Princess Sorrel and Lady Kiera. Lady Medeia and... Aslaug, was it? And, lastly, Princess Graziella and Lord Pasquale. If anyone else, in pair or solo, wishes to participate, you need only let me know. I can pair with an individual participant."

"Now, the task before you is a simple one. A poem on any facet of time you wish written in alternating lines. As short or as long as you'd like. When you're ready to read, simply step up and do so. At the end, we'll all vote for our favorite that was not our own. If you have any questions at all, you need only ask." Pointing to the spot she'd previously occupied, she assures, "I'll be right over there."

Sorrel meanders over to sit with her cousins, though there are plenty of reasons to recommend the other benches as well, and she's got a grin for everyone. "Lady Desiree. Lady Kiera. Have you both been enjoying the poetry? What'd I miss?" she wonders curiously as she settles down. "Ah, Kiera! We'll be working together."

Sorrel has joined the A fateful table with bench seating.

"I'm going to head back to the House though Kiera. You'll survive, yes?" Smiling to the side, Desiree's sipping the last of her drink before handing it to a passing server. Her hands brush over her gown before she's gathering up to her feet. Slight, she dips to the hosts Lianne and Evaristo before beaming across a smile, "Thank you for the poems and drink. Lovely it was."

At his table, Apollo turns to smile at Raimon. "Well - I've read your journals a bit, your highness. I think I'll enjoy this." And he drops his voice to whisper with the Thrax prince, murmuring about what they'll write.

Aslaug looks around with slight bewilderment in an attempt to search for a face that matches the name she had been paired with.

Apollo mutters, "What ... ... favor? I ... like to write about... ... Repetition? Or waiting? What do you ..."

Pasquale lifts his head when Lianne teams him with Graziella. He soon looks over to the other cluster of tables where the Princess is presently sat. "Should we plan around your table or mine Princess?"

Princess Graziella pulls out a peacock blue hardshell case from her bag and from /that/ she extracts a huge peacock feather quill that can easily be seen bobbing at her table from almost anywhere in the room. The subtle iridescence of the peacock sheen catches the light as she bobs the writing implement in Pasquale's direction, "I can come join you!" And do she does, hopping up and heading over to sit with Pasquale as the tail end of her words can be heard, "Which of us should start?"

Graziella has left the A lucky table with benches.

Graziella has joined the An auspicious table with bench seating.

The name of Medeia's partner is unfamiliar to her - a rare thing, which makes it fairly simple for her to spot the bewildered looking about of Aslaug as the other half of her poetic pair. She lifts her hand and smiles. "Lady Medeia Eswynd. Would you like to join me here?" There's an open spot beside her.

A beautiful songbird arrives, following Emberly.

Desiree has left the A fateful table with bench seating.

2 House Wyrmguard Guards leaves, following Desiree.

Evaristo looks absolutely pleased with being paired with Maren and immediaetly leans in closer to her so the two can get started.

radiates a slight gout of relief from herself as Madeia's voice calls out and she shifts over to where she is sitting, lowering her voice to a murmur in reply.

After standing to greet Graziella and offering introductions should she need them Pasquale looks over to Lianne again. "Lianne. Is there a particular topic we should be using?"

Khanne is overheard praising Lianne: Always a beautiful host with the loveliest of ideas.

Kethry shifts in her seat from staring off elsewhere, looking at Apollo as he mutters, smiling as she listens. Her chin planted on her palm, her elbow on the table, she seems content to observe for now.

Emberly has arrived a little late she moves into the area, loooking around and she moves to take a seat close by to show her support.

As people begin go to pair off and set about with their writing, Lianne settles back into her seat and looks up to Graziella. "Any facet of time you'd like. If it would help for me to provide a more specific topic, I'm certainly glad to do so." To the crowd, she notes, "We've another volunteer, if anyone cares to be paired up and give this a go as well." She'll let that sit for a moment before volunteering herself. Hosting is thirsty work, and she's a pint to finish. And refill.

Khanne is overheard praising Evaristo: A Dashing host with excellent ideas and great talent!

Captain Curls, an attentive, ebony guard poodle, Aspira arrive, following Quenia.

Carrick looks around as he walked through the city square. his eyes flitted to the gathering of people, curiosity getting the better of him. he moved closer to the gathering to listen in

Patrizio listens keenly when there's the discussion about what's going on, the jade eyes drifting this way and that, though he's holding his voice for the moment where he's settled. Better for him to take in the poetry than try to do work of it himself, as he's partaking his drink.

It seems the Marquessa of Igniseri has found herself with some free time, and so Quenia has been wandering the streets, taking the time do a bit of shopping. Parched, she was going to stop at the brewery, however it seems she's stumbled upon an event.

Pasquale looks contemplative for a while at the subject before leaning to murmur softly to his partner.

Emberly gets Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Emberly gets Poetry On Time - Volume I, Poetry On Time - Volume II and Poetry On Time - Volume III from Poetry On Time Collection.

Kiera has left the A fateful table with bench seating.

With Lady Kiera hurrying off unexpectedly, Lianne suggests, "Lady Emberly, would you care to compose a poem with Princess Sorrel?" with a nod to the renowned spellsinger.

With a smile, Sorrel motions towards Emberly now that Kiera has abandoned her to run off after something she'd forgotten to do. "Please! Come join me! I need a co-poet!" she calls.

Emberly looks to the Princess and she smiles a little "do you have a topic you would like to attempt?" she asks taking a step closer to Sorrel.

Emberly has joined the A fateful table with bench seating.

Drea lingers in her chair, enjoying her drink, watching curiously as the different groups put their heads together to create their poems. She doesn't seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere, serene content to let the buzz of voices wash over her.

Patrizio takes another sip from his cup as he's looking about, that smile as he's considering the murmuring. Though there's definitely an eye briefly to those who're working at the table where he's settled, not interfering but also clearly looking to suss out bits of the creative process out of a curiosity of his own.

Carrick looked at the pairs of writers studiously hunched over in work, and grinned. Clearly not the kind of competition he was used to, and likely not the crowd for bawdy rhymes line he knew, he contented himself to stage around and wait to hear the completed works by those far more talented.

"And here," Lianne lifts her voice from where she sits, bright enough to carry a note of laughter, "we see time moving slowly for some and too quickly for others. Those who write may feel they don't have enough of it, while those of us waiting to hear their magnificent competitions can't make it move quickly enough."

Emberly smiles to Lianne "composing with another is harder then one could imagine, off the cuff and on the spot, for I can only think of once with prince Talwyn that he and I ever did such a thing." she chuckles before she looks to Sorrel as she waits

Carrick smiles broadly at the joke, nodding in agreement. The gruff man chimed in, likely cutting serene atmosphere with his gruff, boisterous, and really just loud voice. " Oh aye! Ah ahm expectin some masterpieces to make the bards jealous! With such a gathering as this, ah think the great poets of the past might be sweating worrying their work bout to be bested"

Evaristo's head is bent over the paper and his pen scratches a line after a thoughtful moment, then it is slid over to Maren with a warm smile. "This is great," he tells her.

Emberly nods her head a little to Sorrel "I can certainly speak of love of love indeed, shall you start or I?"

Graziella hops up and bounds over to hand off her and Pasquale's entry to Lianne, also showing her the page.

"You are brave souls, indeed," Lianne agrees with Emberly, glass lifted that direction. And then toward Carrick as well. "Lament and revelry both, mm?" When she drinks, she drinks deeply. When Graziella approaches, she looks to the written page and asks, "Would one of you care to perform it or shall I?"

Graziella glances back to Pasquale and offers to do it with a shrug and a lopsided smile, adding, "Unless you'd like to?"

Sorrel grins at Emberly cheerfully. "You start! I'll follow," she suggests brightly. "It'll be fun.

Lianne nods encouragingly toward Graziella, a little wave of her pint encouraging the princess toward the makeshift stage area. "Whenever you'd like."

Captain Curls, an attentive, ebony guard poodle, Aspira leave, following Quenia.

Khanne sits amongst others at her table. While so many spend quiet or murmured moments writing, she relaxes with her ale, taking small sips, sometimes licking her lips, and letting out one or two "ahhhh"s.

Pasquale gestures for Graziella to go ahead. "I am interested to see what you make of it."

Medeia and Aslaug are tucked over a piece of parchment, the lady's hand scrawling down a line one or the other whispers as they work. Finally, a scribbled out line substituted quickly, and a final dot of ink mark the poem done. Or, at least, done for now. She smiles at Aslaug, pleased with what they've created.

Graziella nods readily to Pasquale and she beams a smile at Lianne as she comments, "I don't mind, I can read it." She strides over to the makeshift stage climbs gracefully onto it as she lifts the page and recites out confidently,
"With each bead of sand that falls
the yawning maw of forever calls.

Murmuring that the world never ends
and so it falls on us to mend?

To write stories in the sand
Of everything left unplanned."

Kethry murmurs, "Oh, well done."

Emberly looks to Sorrel, then her eyes pan to Graziella and with her poem she smiles clapping before she extends her arm to Sorrel, "ready to try this?"

Lianne already read the poem, and yet she proves utterly enchanted to hear it read by Graziella. "Magnificent," she breathes. "Such a fine beginning."

"You are quite a performer Graziella." Pasquale says to her. "Thank you for being my partner in this."

Graziella checks charm and performance at normal. Graziella is successful.

Graziella gives a tiny bow and a gracious flourish of her arm to Pasquale as she says to him, "But of course." Then she rushes sheepishly back to her seat blushing as bright as her cerise corset.

Aslaug listens to the first performance and then bobs her head in contentment as Madeia plants that final dot with the quill. Her eyes swiftly scan over the words that are written there before nodding to her once more and leaning back.

"What a thought provoking poem! Well done!" Evaristo calls out, having just finished a line on his and MAren's poem.

Medeia's attention focuses on the poets before her, rapt as Graziella offers what she and Pasquale came up with. "You two are quite the poets, I'll be thinking on those lines for a while to come." Then, as agreed, Medeia steps up to recite the poem that was written between her and Aslaug. "This was a refreshing challenge," She says in Lianne's direction with a warm smile, "And I got to meet someone new. Alright, here is what we came up with." A steadying breath is taken before reciting:
"In the halls of memory, we stand still.
Where paths stretch forth, our futures spill.
We cannot go back to undo what is done,
Our losses left missing, our gains remain won.
And what comes next is ours to fulfill,

The next step is unwritten where we stand still.
So come with me, step out into the sun,
Where your journey from twilight has not yet begun.
We each hold our own quill."

Graziella has left the An auspicious table with bench seating.

Graziella has joined the A lucky table with benches.

Lianne sets her pint down to applaud as Medeia concludes her reading. "By the Gods, this will be a difficult one to judge..." And they're only two poems in. Not even half-way done.

Graziella claps softly for Medeia's recitation and she calls out softly as she settles into her old seat at the Lucky Table, "Beautiful imagery."

Evaristo's expression has changed - he is still happy, but there's something in his gaze, something - not quite sad, but perhaps melancholy. He gives Maren a lopsided smile, and murmurs something to her.

Apollo emerges from artistic vacancy with a blink, and eyes Raimon a moment; ah, how new people seem when they've finished something. "Are we ready?" he wonders.

Carrick raises his brows as the poems begin to flow, the air filled with the haunting words, the gripping images and the prose to give pause to think. the large northerner relaxed slightly against the arch he leaned on, a smile playing over his face. "by the storms.. that's some beautiful wordsmithing. grips the heart and makes ye think" he made as if to cheer and clap.. then thought that perhaps it was not the place for such outbursts. so instead he very softly clapped his hand together, hunching slightly as he did and glancing from side to side to make sure none shot him dirty looks.

Patrizio looks very much, when his attention shifts to Lianne, like he's not envying the matter of having to choose between the verses that are being offered up in the contest's theme. His gaze shifts from group to group that are presenting their work, even as a well-plucked brow rises slightly, and he's taking another good drink from his cup.

Evaristo shifts to Medeia, listening to her - and he applauds vigorously. "Sweet gods, that was splendid."

Raimon looks up from the parchment he and Apollo have been scribbling on. Aha, yes, there is an Outside world. HM? Something seems to have been happening. Raimon nods to Apollo, once. "Aye I think we're done, 'a the moment!"

Emberly claps at the poetry and she smiles a little as she looks over to Raimon, she smiles his way before she looks to Sorrel as they are still composing

Apollo rises next, when Raimon confirms they're done, and moves to the stage. "This is called An Endlessly Turning Hourglass," he says, and clears his throat, and eyes the page - rife with scribbles and corrections in both hands.

The Tide rolls in, The Tide slips out,
Immutable, its flowing
Eroding and depositing:
The Sea is ever growing!

A nibble here, a small lick there,
She’s conquering the lands!
An artist’s capability:
The water’s gentle hands.

Perseverate: this movement seems
to leave it all unchanged.
But time is on Her side, you’ll see, as
Sea for sand’s exchanged!

A million years she’s laboured thus,
With patience firm and sure
This moment’s opus incomplete;
Her efforts will endure.

Wide skies will witness, when we pass -
Our next life won’t now know.
We rest assured that even then
Deep currents still will flow

For in the end She -did- give birth
to twins: both Life -and- Death
The narrow now, her slender waist
and all else in her breadth.

As thin as air, the hand that turns
Those sussurating sands
Such timeless thoughts elude the Mind --
But Spirit Understands."

And then he falls quiet, and with a tilting grin of satisfaction, looks back to Raimon, esteem plainly written on his features.

Maren's thoughtful concentration softens as Evaristo murmurs something softly to him, delicate finger reaching out as if to alight very briefly on his elbow before her response, eyes lifting momentarily from the page they write, though the touch is easily avoided.

Drea listens to the poetry that is recited thus far, and smiles softly as she claps for those who shared. Her attention turns to Apollo and Raimon then, as they finish their poem and share it. She closes her eyes, letting the images evoked by the poem wash over her, and she releases a soft sigh. She opens her eyes again, and lifts her tankard to the pair with an expression of respect for them both. "That was exquisitely written and performed." She sets her mug aside, and applauds them heartily.

Aslaug tilts her head forward as she listens to the latest epic and lets out a low soft whistle in contemplation from under her hat.

Graziella mouths a silent -wow- and then she looks down at the her glass of wine as if she needed more of it, taking a deep sip and turning around to find a refill-- eventually adding to the sea of praise with a demurely spoken, "So moving.."

Evaristo's demeanor seem to be softer and less all over the place in Maren's presence, or perhaps it is the topic that calms this usually very capricious man down. He turns to listen to Apollo - and when that poem is ended, his eyes are wide - he grabs another pen and some paper, hastily - he begins humming to himself and is scribbling down bardic notes now, as if that poem jolted a tune in place in his brain. "Ah...I want to sing that," he breathes to Apollo and Raimon, clearly very impressed.

Kethry applauds the poems as they come, seeming to bask in the words. Then ... she pauses. There's a lean towards Lianne, Kethry standing as she speaks, and squeezes the Marquessa's shoulder in passing. Those at her table get a wave of farewell, and then she's heading out the door.

Medeia murmurs a few words of thanks who have complimented her and Aslaug, returning to her seat to listen to the rest. When Apollo stands to share the poem composed by him and Raimon, she is left with her eyes wide in wonder. "Stunning."

Kethry has left the A lucky table with benches.

Pasquale agrees. "It would make a good song."

"It's always a pleasure, my friend," Lianne murmurs to Kethry as she slips from the event. Smiling warm and wide, the marquessa leans in against Apollo, shoulder nudging right into him, and croons both to him and his partner, "Splendid. I'm looking forward to hearing it set to music." Nevermind that they haven't consented to such yet. Already, she's imagining it.

Evaristo stands up now, clearing his voice and smiling charmingly and widely at the audience. "Our poem, mine and Mistress Maren's, is called 'The Wisdom of Age and the Folly of Youth', about how time is different when you are younger, and how age gives you another perspective, but also about... parents and children," he says.

"My father said I had to train, cause time was of the essence
Grasping and claiming mine, as he felt his fading fast
I sighed at him as once again he said ‘There’s no time like the present!’
Both feeling the sting of words echoing from parent to child through the countless past.
But I have all the time in the world, I am only eighteen years
Unknowing that he sees the baby cradled in his arms, and the man he wished to be
I wish my mother would not cry, I can not handle the tears
Their rain slowly smoothing some edges but also forming sharp valleys
Can they not see, I will be fine, I want to see the world!
All of us waiting for the breath of time’s wisdom, allowing their dream to ebb and mine to take flight."

Khanne applauds after each of the poems read, each one garnering a cheer and a smile. As kethry waves, she returns the gesture to her. "It was very good to see you again." She nods in agreement with others and says, "I agree! It would." Looking around the area, there is a wide smile on her face. "Everyone did fantastically!"

Apollo gives Lianne a peevish look, but answers Evaristo: "You can set ours to song if you'll send me yours so I can write an /answer/," he says, the brows-up look turning from him to Maren. Oh, whoops. He should have asked Raimon. He glances at the Thrax prince.

Raimon nods happily. No objections here!

Lianne presses her hand to her chest as she listens to Evaristo's performance, all the ache and tension in those lines. Casting a look between him and Maren, she murmurs, "So evocative. So present in my own life as I find myself at its middle, perspective slowly shifting."

Evaristo sits back down, murmuring something to Maren, before he nods around and turns a warm smile at Lianne. "Same as me. Perspective is changing - there was a time I felt immortal. I mean, I still think people WORRY way too much, but I can KIND of understand parents. And kids, what is it with them GROWING UP so fast?! It is uncanny!"

Evaristo adds, for Apollo, with a mischievous grin: "I will send it, and I look forward to performing your excellent poem to music, at some event or another."

Emberly blushes a little listening as some of the poems will be put to music and she shakes her head a little looking back to Sorrel as they write together

Evaristo and Maren's poem brings a tear to Medeia's eye, which she tries to brush away without drawing attention. The discussion of it between Lianne and Evaristo has her nodding. The new mother is all too aware of kids growing up being uncanny.

Graziella happily wears the vacant grin of youth as everyone speaks of wisdom and she occupys herself by playing with the big fluff quill she hasn't put away yet and she asides, "Parents are so brave, toddlers are terrfying." That's all she's got!

Raimon looks back to Apollo, nods once, and thinks about this. Raimon is not a 'fast' thinker. So this takes some time .. .. ..

Apollo takes Poetry On Time Collection from a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

Aslaug contemplates for some time after Evaristo performs and keeps her head down bowed low, breathing in the sounds of the words deeply. "Shifting twilight," she whispers.

"There is a certain grief that happens when a beloved one's path diverges from one's own," Maren says gently. "And a parent and child are no exception. But when one can take the time to step back and hold onto dreams for another with an open hand, the result is often even better than it was possible to imagine. And in time the paths may meet once more." But then she is content to sit back and listen.

Though he's busy drinking his beer, Apollo's eyes settle on Maren, thoughtful.

Carrick chuckles, "aye... aint nothin quite as terrifying as tryin to be a parent.. or so mah Da always said. then again it might have been cause ah was just the worst toddler ever. ah swear ah thought ah could fly.." he chuckled, his comments kept quiet so as not to disturb the muses at work or the prose being shared

"Only one more to go," Lianne announces to the crowd. Looking to Emberly and Sorrel, she assures, "No rush," with a high arch of her brows to mark how firmly she means that. "Once we've heard our fifth and final poem, if you could all let Fajra--" The short-haired blonde right over there who might look a teensy bit tipsy, having figured her work for the evening was complete. "--know which was your favorite, aside from your own, we'll tally votes and distrubute prizes. As a final note, we've gathered enough poems, outside of those written today, to add a fourth volume to the collection. We'll announce when it's completed. If others would yet like to submit a poem on time, we could move on to our fifth... sixth..." Her brows furrow with worry even as she laughs. "We're so grateful to everyone who's contributed."

Emberly smiles to Lianne "nearly."

Emberly laughs a little as she listens "our poem sorta falls in the same theme A Family's Love." she pauses looking to Sorrel, "Her Highness and I call this, Love Endures In All Weather."


Thundering storms, darkening skies
And in the crib, the baby cries.
A wonderous sound, in the silent sighs...
The rumbling clouds must yet abide
Through the darkness, a hopeful light.. unbroken..
Patience holds, with so many words unspoken
A love so kind, A love so true
A love unrestricted to some few.
Friendship, Honor, Love anew.

Love of a Parent, Love of a child.
Limerence's Love shines though the challenging storms.
Find safety in arms open wide.
A rock forever by your side..

Maren is overheard praising Lianne: A wonderful event, creating new memories and reminding of ones distant.

Maren is overheard praising Evaristo: A wonderful cohost but also an engaging writing partner as well!

Pasquale admits. "I couldn't choose one."

Raimon is overheard praising Evaristo: Thank you for Poetry (of) Time!

Maren has left the An auspicious table with bench seating.

Lianne drops a honey-filled mirrorsilver hourglass, The Unfolding of Moments, tiny hourglass necklace with pink gemstones, tiny hourglass necklace with teal gemstones.

Graziella scribbles her choice on a scrap of paper and hands it to Lianne.

Raimon is overheard praising Lianne: Thank you, for Poetry (of) Time!

Aslaug gestures vaguely in the direction of her choice once she catches Lianne's eye.

Apollo's eyes skip from one set of poets to the next, and then he leans aside to murmur his choice to Lianne.

Evaristo applauds Emberly and Sorrel, looking touched and drawn in by their poem. "Gods, all of this - I really..." He swallows hard, and says nothing else, instead taking a deep steadying breath to focus on the voting. He writes his on a small note which he hands to Lianne.

Poor tipsy Fajra gets a scrap of paper from Medeia bearing her vote after she's heard all the poems recited. It takes her a very long moment to choose one to vote for, as they were all fantastic! Then, she gets a refill of her drink and settles back in her seat.

Carrick was wholly unsure if he should motion or not.. did one trust a bear to judge art? either way, he motioned with a large hand to the pair he had liked the most, glancing around to see if anyone took notice. either way, the smile never fell from his lips, truly enjoying the impromptu poetry. any display of skill was always to interest him.

Drea is silent throughout the recitations, listening with a serene expression on her face through Evaristo and Maren's poem, nodding her head thoughtfully at the end. She is thoughtful at the end of Emberly's recitation, and she applauds all those who participated. She has finished her drink by now, and the fox is curled up asleep at her feet. She writes down her choice on a piece of paper as well, to give to Fajra.

Lianne applauds for Emberly as she performs the piece she wrote with Sorrel. "So satisfying, so solid. Wonderful." She turns a warm smile toward the pair, but is quickly distracted by the voting. As votes start coming in, the marquessa moves to set out the prizes: a pair of gorgeous hourglass necklaces, a mirrorsilver hourglass absent of sand and a bottle of perfume. Quietly, she works with Fajra to keep accurate tally.

Emberly leans in to tell Lianne her favorite, and she smiles a bit before she leans back in her chair. "great job highness".. she tells Sorell

Emberly is overheard praising Evaristo.

Apollo is overheard praising Evaristo: I can't wait to hear the song.

Emberly is overheard praising Lianne.

Apollo is overheard praising Lianne: She brings the world more poetry. What could deserve praise more?

Evaristo has left the An auspicious table with bench seating.

Evaristo stands up again to join Lianne as the co-host, to help with the final parts of this poetry event. He gestures rather insistantly at the chest, to remind people to grab their books from it if they have not already, and stands ready to asssist Lianne if she needs it.

Pasquale puts Poetry On Time Collection in a brass metal chest with a red enameled surface.

As it seems all the votes which are going to come in are in, Lianne murmurs her gratitude to Fajra for her help. It's answered with a smirk and a gesture toward her beer. The marquessa nods. Yes, Fajra can go off-duty and enjoy herself now. Lianne steps to the front, then, to announce, "While each and every poem received votes and, truly, they were all remarkable. I can't state how profoundly pleased I am to find myself in such brave and capable company. All of your poems were magnificent, but we do have a very clear winner. Second place, who will receive prizes as well, was a much closer race." The pause, here, is strictly for effect. "The winners are most certainly Prince Raimon and Lord Apollo. So well-composed in such short an amount of time. You two have the first pick of prizes." Another brief beat. "And in second, my favorite, though I assure I was not the deciding vote, the piece by Princess Graziella and Lord Pasquale, who will get second choice of the prizes. Again, you were all fantastic. And you--" She looks to Evaristo. "--have been so wonderful to work with. The books are beautiful. I can't wait to hear you set the winning piece to song. Thank you." And, again to the crowd, "Thank all of you."

Emberly is overheard praising Raimon.

Emberly is overheard praising Apollo.

Emberly is overheard praising Pasquale.

Emberly is overheard praising Graziella.

Lianne is overheard praising Evaristo: Both diligent and delightful. A pleasure to work with.

There is a flicker of surprise from Pasquale followed by a slight smile in both Graziella and Lianne's directions.

Raimon is overheard praising Pasquale: I voted for your Poem -- thought it was great!

Apollo laughs joyfully, and rises to his feet, giving a dip of his head to Graziella and Pasquale. He moves to study the prizes; each is given a study, but what he takes is the mirrorsilver hourglass, before gesturing to Raimon to have his choice.

Apollo takes a honey-filled mirrorsilver hourglass.

slips into the room just as a poem finishes, standing near the back of the crowd and listening to the festivities.

Lianne is overheard praising Raimon: Skillful composition under such constraints!

"Eloquent, in its brevity! I suppose there is something to be said for short and melancholy!" Graziella decides, when it is announced that she and Pasquale took second place. "Wonderful, I think I want that necklace.. either one. How about you?" And she holds back a step, letting Apollo and Raimon have their pick with her hands patiently folded.

Lianne is overheard praising Apollo: Skillful composition under such constraints!

Aslaug is overheard praising Apollo: Amazing poem!

Aslaug is overheard praising Raimon: Amazing poem!

Apollo is overheard praising Raimon: A game collaborator and thoughtful poet.

Medeia politely applauds the winners, rising to drift over to Apollo and say something quietly. Once said, she finishes her drink and moves to make her way out of the event. There's a brief pause before she's gone, dipping her head to Aslaug. "It was so nice to write with you. Thank you for your words."

Drea flips through the poetry books, savoring each one. She has finished her drink by now, but seems to be lingering to see who the winners were, not in a hurry to leave. When Lianne stands to address the audience once again, the Mother Bear puts the books back in their bundle, and lifts her blue eyes to listen. Her eyes crinkle at the corners, and she claps her hands as Apollo and Raimon are called out as the winners of first place. She listens then, as Lianne calls out the next names, and the Princess Mother inclines her head to that pair as well, applauding them with equal fervor. She smiles softly as the winners go to pick up their prizes. "Congratulations," she says sincerely, before rising to her feet at last. "This was a lovely event," she says to Lianne and Evaristo. "Thank you so much for putting it together. Everyone was wonderful." She stretches her aging bones, and the fox uncurls at her feet, springing to life again with an energetic sound. Then the silver-haired High-Shaman turns to take her leave.

Aslaug is overheard praising Lianne: Thank you for hosting the event!

Apollo is overheard praising Graziella: An expansive thought in an economy of words.

Apollo is overheard praising Pasquale: An expansive thought in an economy of words.

Emberly looks happy as the winners are announced and she smiles "this was lovely.. thank you for your hosting, it was a very different experience."

Drea is overheard praising Raimon: A skilled poet, and a well-deserved win.

Drea is overheard praising Apollo: A skilled poet, and a well-deserved win.

Drea is overheard praising Graziella: Well done!

Drea is overheard praising Pasquale: Well done!

Emberly has left the A fateful table with bench seating.

"Whichever is left then." Pasquale says to Graziella. "Once Raimon has had his pick."

Evaristo applauds everyone vigorously, and is grinning from ear to ear. He bows humbly to Lianne. "My lady, it has been nothing but a true joy." He turns to everyone assembled. "Thank you for making a bard's night!"

Aslaug nods her head deferentially to Apollo and Raimon for their contribution, followed by a nod to Lianne in thanks for hosting. She completes the bobbing of her head as Medeia speaks to her and replies quietly, "And yours. Wonderful tapestries were woven."

Raimon defers, giving Pasquale and Graziella their choices! If pressed, he will say he'll 'share' Apollo's choice (i.e. visit and stare at it some time)

Patrizio applauds for the winners as well, before it's clear that he sees it as his time to slip back out quietly.

Patrizio has left the A lucky table with benches.

6 First Legion Centurions leaves, following Patrizio.

Medeia has left the An auspicious table with bench seating.

Fluffy, a wild nanny-cat, 2 Eswynd shieldbearers, Loryk, a cocky but amiable reaver, Klavdiya, who is definitely a handmaiden and not a reaver, Butterpup, a Graypeak Mountain Dog leave, following Medeia.

Graziella takes The Unfolding of Moments.

Pasquale gets tiny hourglass necklace with teal gemstones.

With the prizes all being divvied up and the night growing darker, Lianne once more bids, "Thank you," to all gathered and abandons her hosting duties.