The Wedding of Augustus Lyon & Arabella Beleveron

With the joining of two powerful families from Odersten, the parents of the betrothed have elected to throw a grand celebration ball. The festivities will begin from the mid afternoon. Careful not to drink overly much though as the wedding ceremony itself will be held late evening just before dinner. A live band plays a variety of waltzes and ballads with the occasional bard vocalizing sweet sonnets. All of Klewyth is invited to this masquerade! However, given the current state of affairs, it would be wise to keep any vampiric nature held tight under lock and key. Mrs. Beleveron, Mr. Beleveron, and Mr. Lyon can be found near the entrance, greeting those more.... esteemed guests. Come and enjoy the festivities! Drink, Dance & Be Merry Cermony Site | Mansion Exterior

Rules of Attendance

- No posting order.  - Please make all entrance posts here, but make separate threads for private conversations! The main ceremony will occur in this posting.  - May encounter a guard if attempting to steal from the household.

Rewards

Must post at least five (5) times in order to receive the following; - 500 crescents  - Everblooming Rose: An undying rose, one that will never wilt. Signifying the love shared in this matrimonial union of houses.  - Dr. Jack's Miracle Tonic  - NOT a bag of sugar, one (1) participant will receive an actual Dust of Disappearing.

Pungent ash and subtle wafts of iron filled the space between the two men sitting opposite of one another, an oak desk the barrier between them.  It was everywhere, in the walls, their clothes.  Even in the pores of their pallid skin.  Red eyes lingered on the benefactor, the client whose summons had been cryptic but promising.  "Five-thousand for the Lyon boy.  Five more for each Beleveron."  Naga watched the way his elongated, pointed nails tapped at the rim of the glass.  A drunkard's blood - the smell of an intoxicating temptation nearly made the vampire salivate in his seat.  "This event has attracted the eye of our queen and to our great fortune, everyone has been invited.  Entry shouldn't be an issue."  The man leaned forward to place both elbows upon the desk, his pointed chin roosted on the backs of his intertwined hands.  "Go have a ball." His laughter Naga carried with him as he approached the glamourous doors beyond the walkway of trimmed hedges and decorated pillars.  A flaunting of wealth, a symbol of the family's status.  Beneath the guise of magic, the vampire appeared as any common mortal.  Dusky blonde hair, average frame.  A mask that would hide any distinguishable features from prying eyes that sought to get too close to the truth.  Once inside, Naga watched how light glistened from the crystal chandeliers and how many flavours of people had already begun wasting their night away.  Women in their gaudy gowns, men in their tailored suits.  To them, Naga appeared as if he belonged. The man made his way towards the drink table that had been abandoned when a new song began to be plucked on the piano keys.  A tantalizing melody strummed by the violin, a thump of the bass and the orchestra lured those eager for fun to the floor where they spun and smiled at one another.  Naga would reach into his coat pocket to place a vial on the table, opened.  To appear unassuming, he moved to a nearby pillar and leaned against it, watching the dancers as if waiting for an opportunity to join them.  Instead, his plans were more... nefarious.  He was focused on using his telekinesis to move the vial of potent belladonna enough that its contents would slip into the provided fare.  Once finished, he'd return to the table and grab the vial and a rather intricately decorated dessert that would be unceremoniously flung into his mouth with neither couth nor grace.  From henceforth, the wine fountain is tainted with an undetectable, lethal dose of belladonna. - Werewolves will have fatal effects after 3-4 hours of consumption. - Mortals will have fatal effects after 8-9 hours of consumption. - All species will start to hallucinate within 1-2 hours of consumption.

Admittance had to be made that when she had heard the news shock had accompanied it. Along with the sting of a wounded pride. She'd have thought the goat would have at least told her of the upcoming event, and yet it was from the face of a discarded paper wafting on a breeze down the street that had informed her of his poor fate.  Perhaps he still had his head buried within the sand, but she assumed it was safe to say that the man's father had finally secured him a partner after all. While she hadn't specifically been extended an invitation, the local column had. Anyone was welcome, a huge celebration. Why dress up? The effortless drift of her easy simper was affixed to the lush curve of her lips as she approached the main door. Hooded gaze would slip over the present guard as he opened it for her, offering a slight decline of her crown as a delicate hand rose to keep hold of the large brim of her hat with the tease of a breeze. Already within, there was a rather large gathering of people accompanied by staff alike. It was one such man that she caught a flute of wine from as he crossed her path. One which she wasted no time in lifting to her lips as eyes scanned the crowd for that familiar face she sought. Congratulations were in order, after all.

Jahi

There had hardly been any plans on returning to the land of wolves so soon and yet the enticement of invitation lured him back. Supplies given to his mother before familiar paths were taken back, care taken to stick to what was known and avoid unnecessary distractions. Far too many had been encountered on his first venture and he did not intend to slaughter crazed hounds or fumble about in a school in hopes for direction. Juliet had been sure to include them. Ensure there was no confusion on where he was supposed to go to behold the gift prepared. Guess he could also judge for himself just how ancient this papa of hers was as well, surely he would catch a glimpse of the man during the festivities. Though he’d also never been to any fancy shindig hosted by nobility. Would they even let him in? He didn’t exactly look the part yet he’d been told all were invited to attend. He shouldn’t have an issue getting past the guards… or so he thought. Armored hand briefly halting his path, concerned falling over the fact there appeared to be no guardian at the youth’s side. Phrases which brought eyes to roll, “I’ll have you know the big man himself invited me!” Expression which earned a quirk of the knight’s brow and while Fineás wasn’t certain just who this ‘big man’ was he'd heard such exclamations before. Zealots speaking over the big man, talking as if this creature was all powerful. So surely that would be enough to grant him access! Though no matter how the guard may have taken it a blockage shifted with issued phrase, “Don’t cause any trouble kid.” What did they know! Nothing. He wasn’t here to cause a ruckus anyways… not from the start anyways. There had been agreement to meet though when he did not immediately catch sight of the girl he found a mind drifting. Eye dancing over fanciful décor and the cascading fountain of red. Though just as before, when he reached for one of the glasses resting near another would stop him, “Hey! What gives?” Irritation clear as the man attempted to shoo him from the fountain’s edge, insisting that those carried upon glittering platters tasted far better. Wouldn’t they all hold the same flavors? Drinks something he admittedly held no experience with, though bitterness still sought to lace his tongue. Wishing to snap at the one who he saw as only putting a damper on whatever fun he may have here. Only for argument to die before it could truly rise as one of those peculiar cups were shoved into his hands. Tongue clicking with a sharp tsk, “Whatever.” At least he had this, now all he needed to do was find that fidgety girl. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to discover her in the crowd. After all, how many their age would bother coming to something like this? Has a not poisoned wine glass from the stinky brother.

Jahi

The kitsune lingered close to another’s side, phrases hushed as arm laced about his own. Any blossoming argument not something she intended others to be privy of despite knowing of the distaste another held for hosted celebration. It was nothing they’d discussed face to face, Valerius had implored her to remain silent about the whole arrangement. To allow news to be sprung when there would be no time for action against the union… and so she had. While Eiko hated to keep anything of importance from her own blood in this case it was a necessity.

Perhaps in time she would find a way to make it up to him though for now she would accept whatever venom may lace his tongue. Expectations of sharpened tones that never came, nothing more than dejected acceptance reaching her ears. Softened assurance that he wasn’t upset with her. Claims that he never could be. All blame no doubt placed upon his father’s shoulders though she had been given so many opportunities to come clean. It was too late to spill forth the truth now, it had already been discovered in grand message to the papers.

Brewing thoughts drawing a sigh from her lungs, “Please just pretend to be happy about this. At least for tonight, that’s all I ask of you. You know how your father can get.” A man who kept his temper subdued within the public eye though when all was said and done it was sure to flare if ‘the boy’ acted out of turn. Something she knew the goat understood from dwelling beneath a hound’s hand for so many years. It had yet to twist her son’s nature and she prayed such a day would not come. Gentle squeeze of her fingers, “Do try to enjoy yourself Auggie.” The last she would offer before relinquishing her hold upon him to drift into the crowd. 

Even if he did not mingle with those who attended, she would. Hopefully he would not hug the wine bowl the entire evening.

Augustus tried not to flinch when that arm coiled about his own, the jostle to a shoulder expected though he could not ignore the sharp pang which echoed across it. Sparking pain bringing teeth to press against one another, slow breath hissing between them in hopes of steadying those fragmented nerves. Action he prayed would be read as nothing but an upset. Just another portion of all which flooded the mind escaping upon huffed exasperation.

Whatever plans he’d attempted to set in motion in those short few days to foil a gathering… well, he wasn’t certain if any would pan out. It all depended on another being able to slip past the security placed at the gates. Remain undetected until the time was right. There was still time to try something else though. The goat well aware that neither party desired his union. Neither had been given a choice and yet how was one to remedy fate when proclaimed ceremony of bonding loomed just a few hours away?

He would have to act fast should opportunity present itself. But for now worry turned his ear, brought them to droop without their usual alertness - without the thrill that so often spurred them to twist. And no matter his relative silence, meloncholia reflected in the rosen gaze which briefly flickered over his mother’s visage. August knew she meant well with such insistence but he could hardly find a reason for joy behind the occasion.

It would all be fake.

A mask he’d grown all too used to wearing beneath the scathing eyes of nobility. Yet even now he could not find it in himself to lie, not to her. Any false promises cast aside before they could find release. “I know,” nothing more than that quiet utterance slipping from his lips. That passing squeeze hardly felt before a presence disappeared all together. Vanishing into the crowds and leaving the goat - more or less - on his own. Gods he needed a drink. Goblet snatched from the table top the moment it came into reach, paces settling at the fountain’s edge. If this wasn’t enough to sear away regret then perhaps a few glasses more would.

mmm delicious poison wine, currently exhibiting no symptoms

She hadn't been to a party in quite some time - at least not one where she was not part of the entertainment. Such things in Shanton seemed far away, something like a fairy tale as she had arrived in Odersten. Word traveled fast, and while she was not a recipient of the Odersten post, patrons the bar were. Tongues that barely needed loosening with alcohol or other more... lucrative substances had been eager to extend invitations. To hold onto the arm of a nameless vagabond that had merely come to pay to witness her. A laughable notion, really. So it was she found herself here alone. The dragon's marks were made, and while her friend Lala had healed her to the best of her ability, the scars would linger. While they were much more faint than if her skin had naturally puckered, she had merely made them into a claim of prowess. How many could claim they had stood against a dragon, felt its tooth and claw and lived? So it was that wild carmine hair spilled over the cover of black ink that welled to fabricate under the skin where the reminders lingered. Decorative tattoos of the drake named Wendreda. One arm curled about her waist, her elbow propped lightly upon the forearm to support the swirl of her wine glass. In truth, this was her true calling. None accompanied her here, a complete disinterest in all of those who had offered their presence. The only one she was truly entertained by being the sear of alcohol to lull over her tongue. To anchor her in that blissful numb feeling that had become a necessity within the havoc of her life. She had to stay this way, submerged within the ocean of listless dismissal. Better that someone else pay for it. She was surrounded by unfamiliar faces, not an uncommon feat. She managed a soft laugh as she edged by them, separating those closest to the decadent fountain as she refilled her own chalice from it.

Jahi

mm! tasty! no symptoms yet

The day had finally come, and while she couldn't say she was surprised, there was no erasing the sickening feeling that lingered at the back of her throat. She had agreed to this in the end. Her fate had already been sealed. Piece by piece, bit by bit everything she had had been robbed from her. While she had continued to use that sweet calling she had once known another to hold, proceeded with this horrible farce, she knew that in truth there was nothing left for her back across the sea. Her people were left destitute and she was certain complete annihilations of their ways and perhaps they themselves had been carried out in her absence. The night terrors that she had once sought comfort from had become like morbid friends. She would lace her fingers within theirs, for they were hers in truth. They were not the fabrications of an over active imagination, they were tragedies she had beheld with her own eyes. Those travesties had become her - carved her in their likeness. She had been the marble and they the artist that shaped her from the confines. There was happiness as well, yes. Those moments like sweet daydreams that she wished she could lose herself within, but all too soon she found her eyes opening. Her father. Her sisters. Better days. Days with Aethelos and Arabella. Those others within their band who called one another family. All of it reduced to naught but ashes and cinders. The betrayal of fire to leave only darkness behind in its wake. A kiln suffocating on that which had once sustained it. Desperately damp. Unable to be lit any longer. That was the impression lingering within her cerebral musings as the dull reflection within the mirror looked back at her. Once upon a time, she'd have dreamt of moments like these. Tiny and miniscule things to those who lived upon the main lands, but to her each contraption and device an ode to advancements that her people may have never known. Ones they were certain to never behold now. Her hands tightened upon one another as the maid finished tying off the ends of her lengthy locks. "Congratulations, Lady Arabella." The words left her on a mirthful tone, but the expression didn't touch her piteous gaze, the very same that had witnessed the multitudes of her tears. Her hands would trail up her back and softly squeeze her shoulders. "I'm sorry your brother couldn't be here to see you off. I...." she would sigh, her grasp tightening before relinquishing all together as not Daesn'yri, but the false Arabella would arise from her seat. "You look beautiful. I hope you can find some joy tonight." She would offer a bow as she opened the door, allowing the stoic maiden to depart the safety and privacy of the room she'd been bathed and dressed within. Another unfamiliar home, grandiose and overly decorated. Smiling faces that were just as hollow as she felt. She played along with the part, her smile warm with the last dying flames of the kiln within her. She would deny the offer of wine as she joined the main room for the party meant to celebrate. A prison made of stone and flesh.

Jahi

Odersten had been haunted by banshees of hunger, once wailing spirits belonging to men and women whose waists withered.  Malice that had begun to leech into the streets like a vile, rotten waste permeated the impoverished sectors of the city.  Some of it was cut away and bodies began to accrue where happiness once dwelled.  The corpses of children, of the famished, were carted from their homes.  Many in the city were still oblivious to the dangers of the Red Queen's rule, of her dominion on the farming town of Dunmeath.  They were preoccupied with their entitlement, their glistening gold that could sustain their stomachs despite the famine sweeping over Vufrien. Too, were they busied by the fliers bolstering with enchanting font the union of one house Lyon and the chosen broodmare for house Beleveron, Arabella.  Not many knew her real name.  For a time, neither did she.  Only recently did we discover that she was the lost princess of a tribe since forgotten.  To the denizens of Klewyth, her people were nothing.  To us, they were a fundamental instrument for forging our futures.  Without her sire's guidance, perhaps I would have ended up like my greedy father.  He taught me to hunt and track and wield a sword.  Wisdom passed down to the son he never had.  Without her, though, I would have been miserable.  That's why the wig was tucked into place, the scent of lavender wafting from its curls.  I tucked the edges of the blindfold over the telling stare of my heterochromatic gaze.  The cloth was thick enough to hide the mismatched eyes but thin enough that I could see.  I'd enter the estate like this lest my parents see that their son had disobeyed the orders of his commander.  A letter was sent instructing me to return to the front lines to prepare for retaliation against the red queen's grasp.  Instead, I was here, looking, hawk-like gaze piercing through the ebony blinder until I found the ivory gown that stood out from the others.  Without regard for those around us, I'd approach her, a hand offered as was the noble custom.  "Madam."  The corner of my mouth lifted into a slanted smirk.  "You seem so... miserable.  Would you like to go someplace a little more quiet?"  And despite the risk of exposing my guarded truth, I'd lift a single edge of the blinder to expose a hazel, briefly winking eye.

Helayne Ilirium Hel made her way inside the blacksmiths shop. The usuals suffocating heat had died down to a light smother. The scent of smoke and oil still filled the air as she made her way to the back. Halfdan smiled at the sight of her, his mismatched eyes looking over her carefully. “You seem to be in one piece still, lass!” He laughed, reaching out to tug her into his burly arms, crushing her against him in a fierce hug. Hel gasped slightly, choking on a laugh as she embraced the old man back. “Still in one piece for now. You said you’d found a dress?” The blacksmith sat her back on her feet once more, his expression changed, suddenly serious. “Aye, I have something in mind… are you sure you want to keep doing this though? You’re walking into a den of vipers, lass You may never find what you’re looking for...” His normally stoic face was darkened with worry. His creased forehead exaggerated the already scarred skin, the pale moon eye staring blindly back at her. “You know that answer,” she held her voice firm, gaze unwavering. “I have to keep trying.” He only nodded, turning to grab a box off his cleanest work table. “This belonged to your mother. I did have some changes made. You’re much taller then she was, but she brought this dress with her from her own world before she joined ours.” She found herself without words, shocked he’d have kept such a piece from her. Opening the lid she found a gold collar attached to simple black silk. She ran her hand over the fabric fondly, the garment so foreign from the customs she grew up knowing. A knot formed in her throat envisioning her mother young and happy, entwined in a dance with her father. She looked up at Halfdan and smiled sadly at him, “Thank you… How do you have it?” His own smile mirrored the pain of hers, but he simply nodded. “She’d asked me to sell it, er, well after everything happened and she just had you and her younger brood…” He coughed, hating to dredge up the memories for either of them. “You’re welcome to get ready here, I’ll be out in the shop when you’re ready.” Hel jumped on the change of topic, “That’s okay, I’ll take Freya.” “Freya?!” He barked back in reply, “That hell beast is not fit for this occasion. Besides you’ll be in your gown, how will you ride and look like any sort of lady?” He tossed up his hand, flexing the stumps of his missing fingers as if to emphasize his point. Hel laughed, “The kind that rides hard and fast.” She turned from his red face and made her way back into the house to avoid any further argument. …………. Standing in front of the broken mirror, she pulled the thin wisp of a gown up over her hips, wrapping the collar around her throat. It covered most of the ancestral tattoo. She frowned at its absence, but perhaps it was for the best to keep it hidden. The black silk slipped down to wrap around her lean frame, showing curves she never knew were there. It barely hid the side of her breast and fell low to the crest of her bottom, trimmed in gold that chilled her skin at its touch. The tight braid she’d woven her hair into revealed her bare back and the thick deep grooving scars there. She turned to see them and grimaced. Refusing to let the memories resurface she quickly shook her long silver blonde hair out and draped it across her back to try and hide them. It would have to do. At the bottom of the box was a beautiful headpiece that she had vague memories of her mother wearing, something more familiar to her family. She pulled the thin threads of gold onto the top of her head, draping across her nose and gathering at the nape of her neck. She hardly recognized the reflection staring back at her. Too much felt wrong. Too naked without her bows familiar weight at her back and the weight of her blades at her hip. She’d only just managed to hide a few silver daggers at each thigh. Her hands were not a lady’s hands, they were callused and scarred, a hunter’s hands. She rubbed them together self consciously, as if she could find a way to hide them. There was no more use waiting, it didn’t truly matter what she looked like anyway, so long as she blended in. Halfdan was waiting with a shabby looking carriage that she couldn’t imagine what bog he’d dragged it from. “I’ll drop you off, Freya will be hidden nearby if you need a quick escape.” Hel smiled, allowing him to drop her off at the houses front door. Before she could make her way into the gate, he grabbed her hand quickly, his eyes brimming with moisture. “Don’t forget you’re as good as any of ‘em in there, lass. More then. You are the blood of Valthira, you make us all proud. Be careful,” and with his warning, he was swinging himself up, the tap of his wooden leg signaling the horses on as it lumbered off. Hel held back her emotions at his words turning to face the house once more. The mansion was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Finery that she and her people had never known. Oh, she was so very far from the mountains she thought. Her gaze traveled over the rich clothing and jewelry with stones big enough to feed entire villages. Most of all, she searched the faces, tried to recognize family crests and significant players who may have some information. Doing her best to blend in and disappear in the crowd, she made her way carefully through it, listening as she went. ooc: no poison wine yet?! sorry, got long and rambly and kind of rushed it at the end . also going to say this dress is black since we at a wedding >.> LOL

art by EpsilonWheeler