[OOC: OK, new topic, picking up the next morning; if somebody still has something to do the night before, feel free...]
Sister Rose was up early, as usual, for her morning prayers -- mixed, this time, with some soul-searching of a more personal nature.
Why did I make a fool of myself with Argus last night? she thought as she walked down to the lake. It was like I'd lost all control, like someone else was kissing him. Maybe it was just the atmosphere; the festival was plenty powerful stuff. And the lake was atmospheric too, what with all the other things going on.
Or maybe that's what falling in love is like ... no, stop that. She put the thought out of her mind as she settled in at the shore. Residue from the party was still everywhere; there'd have to be a clean-up effort. And she was pretty sure she could hear some snoring duets coming from the beach ... not that she was particularly listening, of course.
By the time she got back to the house, there were other signs of life. Brad met her at the door, a wide, almost silly grin on his face, and continued on down to the lake without saying a word. Did they or didn't they? Rose decided it was really none of her business. Some of the other travelers were starting to stir, too ...
... Including Argus.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked as she saw him, hoping she wasn't blushing too vigorously.
Snamish
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Jack Rothwell
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Re: Snamish
Eli rolled out of bed and stretched noisily, the crack of stiff muscles sounding loud in the morning quiet. The hangover was a background thing, thank the Gods, and nothing that would make the day unbearable. He levered himself to his feet with a grunt and prepared to face the day.
By the end of the night he and Pico were fairly far gone, Snamish-made wine was more than moreish after all. He tried to piece together the events of the evening; there was a sketchy memory of playing his harmonica with the band in the square, some song laced with double-entendres, then another of dancing with a pretty half-elf girl and then...
His brow furrowed, there was a definite gap, a laspe in memory between the conclusion of the festival and his returning home. He pondered what it could mean, who was the girl? What had he said to her? Had he finished the night by himself? His house was empty at least, and that seemed to indicate that was the case.
'Nothing like a mystery to start the day with.' He thought, a few minutes later he stepped outside his house into the warm sunshine.
By the end of the night he and Pico were fairly far gone, Snamish-made wine was more than moreish after all. He tried to piece together the events of the evening; there was a sketchy memory of playing his harmonica with the band in the square, some song laced with double-entendres, then another of dancing with a pretty half-elf girl and then...
His brow furrowed, there was a definite gap, a laspe in memory between the conclusion of the festival and his returning home. He pondered what it could mean, who was the girl? What had he said to her? Had he finished the night by himself? His house was empty at least, and that seemed to indicate that was the case.
'Nothing like a mystery to start the day with.' He thought, a few minutes later he stepped outside his house into the warm sunshine.
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Drannin
- Prince of Space
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Re: Snamish
Argus coughed. "Ah... good morning, Rose. Did you... sleep well?"
Oh, weave. I just got up and the situation is already socially awkward. This does not bode well. I mean, it's not like I minded... far from it, but... It is way to early for me to be chewing on this.
Oh, weave. I just got up and the situation is already socially awkward. This does not bode well. I mean, it's not like I minded... far from it, but... It is way to early for me to be chewing on this.
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Graybeard
- The Heretical Admin
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Re: Snamish
Sister Rose didn't need her magical Empathy to sense Argus' discomfort. And it's my fault. I should never have let myself be so overcome by the mood of the festival. That must be it. Mustn't it? Let's see if I can defuse this. Not realizing that that last thought had become practically her calling card, she smiled as naturally as she could manage. "Very well, thank you. I always sleep well here. It's such a peaceful place." She didn't mention that Argus had slept in the same room that she and Kenny had always occupied when they were both here, while she occupied one of the regular guest rooms. She was glad that Beatrice had set it up that way; for her to have spent the night in Kenny's old room would have been ... hard. Whether she spent it alone or not.
Speaking of Beatrice, here she was, smiling and bearing coffee. (Now how had a community as isolated as Snamish come to have an exotic product like that? Rose had never thought about it until Lillith had mentioned that coffee was scarce in Santuariel, but it actually seemed like an interesting question.) "We'll have breakfast in about half an hour," she said. "Unfortunately, my husband won't be able to join us for it. He got called away on some boring council thing." She bustled back to where the kitchen help were hard at work, not leaving time for any questions.
Which was unfortunate, because Rose had one. Now exactly what kind of business is it that is so urgent as to require a meeting of the council before breakfast? It isn't Wilbur Hamael, I don't think; they'd have roped me into the conversation if it had been. It must be something I don't have a role in ... or something they don't want me to have a role in. She tried to put the thought out of her mind and smile at the other guests who were arriving, some a bit the worse for wear after the festival, some not.
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Meanwhile, a certain young woman could have answered Rose's question, if she hadn't been trotting off to the council meeting, the look on her face having very little of the festivities left in it. [EDIT: Retconned to leave the woman's identity in doubt...]
Speaking of Beatrice, here she was, smiling and bearing coffee. (Now how had a community as isolated as Snamish come to have an exotic product like that? Rose had never thought about it until Lillith had mentioned that coffee was scarce in Santuariel, but it actually seemed like an interesting question.) "We'll have breakfast in about half an hour," she said. "Unfortunately, my husband won't be able to join us for it. He got called away on some boring council thing." She bustled back to where the kitchen help were hard at work, not leaving time for any questions.
Which was unfortunate, because Rose had one. Now exactly what kind of business is it that is so urgent as to require a meeting of the council before breakfast? It isn't Wilbur Hamael, I don't think; they'd have roped me into the conversation if it had been. It must be something I don't have a role in ... or something they don't want me to have a role in. She tried to put the thought out of her mind and smile at the other guests who were arriving, some a bit the worse for wear after the festival, some not.
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Meanwhile, a certain young woman could have answered Rose's question, if she hadn't been trotting off to the council meeting, the look on her face having very little of the festivities left in it. [EDIT: Retconned to leave the woman's identity in doubt...]
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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Drusia
- Veteran of the Errant War
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Re: Snamish
OOC: Sorry, brief delay while some PMs occur, working out a couple of details.
**pause**
**sweatdrop**
That's Private Messages, not PMS. Just in case anyone was thinking of getting cute.
**pause**
**sweatdrop**
That's Private Messages, not PMS. Just in case anyone was thinking of getting cute.
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Jack Rothwell
- Teller of Tales
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- Location: Liverpool, England
Re: Snamish
Eli meandered his way to the council chambers for the meeting. Today, with any luck, would be eventful in an interesting and preferably non-life threatening way. There was the situation of the hot air balloon to deal with which, despite a slightly uneasy stomach, the half elf was looking forward to dealing with. The certainy had settled over him once again that the group of new arrivals might be his ticket out of Snamish; finally a chance to get out and see the great wide world instead of spending his weeks stuck on guard duty or performing menial tasks in order to keep the town running.
The half-elf kept a slow but steady pace as he made his way across town, thinking about breakfast in an off-handed sort of way, and waiting patiently for the gaps in his memory from last night to return.
The half-elf kept a slow but steady pace as he made his way across town, thinking about breakfast in an off-handed sort of way, and waiting patiently for the gaps in his memory from last night to return.
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Porcelain Fish
- Mage/Priest War Veteran
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Re: Snamish
Maduin looked out over the gradually awakening village through one of the tall windows of Benedict's house, admiring the sleepy peacefulness of it all. It was serene, even picturesque, not yet fully awake with the bustle of goings-on, though there were a few villagers already in the streets. The sun was cresting the mountains, spreading golden light over the glimmering waters of the lake.
He let out a noise of contentment as a strong arm slid around his waist, and leaned back into Bryce. The man was positively a snuggling fiend, Maduin had discovered, taking any and every opportunity to do so. Not that Maduin minded in the slightest. In fact, he considered it a strong selling point for his tall beau.
"We could have stayed in bed for at least another five minutes," the big red-headed soldier grumbled good-naturedly, low baritone voice even lower with sleep.
And miss that priceless, delightfully awkward moment between Rose and Argus this morning? Not a chance, Maduin thought privately, a secretive smile curving his lips.
"There's something lovely about morning," he said instead. "The way everything seems to bloom in the light."
He could feel Bryce's mouth next to his ear, heard the indrawn breath as the big man breathed in the scent of him, felt him let it out gently and silently, warm and sensuous on his neck.
"Mmm." Bryce's slumber-deepened voice dropped even deeper. "You know, the sheets are probably still warm." His arm tightened.
"We have breakfast in half an hour." Maduin let his head rest against Bryce's broad chest. "Not that I'm not tempted. But we don't want our hosts to think we're too terribly lazy."
He let out a noise of contentment as a strong arm slid around his waist, and leaned back into Bryce. The man was positively a snuggling fiend, Maduin had discovered, taking any and every opportunity to do so. Not that Maduin minded in the slightest. In fact, he considered it a strong selling point for his tall beau.
"We could have stayed in bed for at least another five minutes," the big red-headed soldier grumbled good-naturedly, low baritone voice even lower with sleep.
And miss that priceless, delightfully awkward moment between Rose and Argus this morning? Not a chance, Maduin thought privately, a secretive smile curving his lips.
"There's something lovely about morning," he said instead. "The way everything seems to bloom in the light."
He could feel Bryce's mouth next to his ear, heard the indrawn breath as the big man breathed in the scent of him, felt him let it out gently and silently, warm and sensuous on his neck.
"Mmm." Bryce's slumber-deepened voice dropped even deeper. "You know, the sheets are probably still warm." His arm tightened.
"We have breakfast in half an hour." Maduin let his head rest against Bryce's broad chest. "Not that I'm not tempted. But we don't want our hosts to think we're too terribly lazy."
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Drusia
- Veteran of the Errant War
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Re: Snamish
"We'll have breakfast in about half an hour," she said. "Unfortunately, my husband won't be able to join us for it. He got called away on some boring council thing." She bustled back to where the kitchen help were hard at work, not leaving time for any questions.
Desiree had never liked the council chamber. Another relic of her mother's taste for ancient elven design - or possibly just because her mother had never considered an alternative to ancient elven design - the council chamber featured a raised half-circle desk where the seven council members sat, gazing accusingly down at their victim like scolding parents. Behind her, a few rows of audience viewing leered down. The floor of the council chamber felt like an arena. Desiree was sure the lions would be released soon.
Masha stood nervously beside her. Fresh blood crusted on the front of her shirt, a nice, if matronly blouse she'd worn to the festival yesterday. Poor Masha'd never had a chance to change. Desiree, at least, was in her more sedate robes today, although she'd gotten as little sleep as Masha.
There were still a few councelors missing. Bad luck to have this happen the night of the festival - worse still, a few of the present council members looked hung-over. Tempers would be short. Desiree shifted her weight nervously, and covered a yawn.
She nearly choked on it when her mother walked in. Drusia moved around the outside, taking a seat in the lower audience stands. It was good, Desiree tried to convince herself, that her mother was here rather than at Kera's house. Mother was going to listen to the council discuss the matter first, it seemed. Whether or not she actively participated in the discussion would likely depend on what Desiree and Masha had to say.
Lovely. No pressure or anything.
-- Desiree
Desiree had never liked the council chamber. Another relic of her mother's taste for ancient elven design - or possibly just because her mother had never considered an alternative to ancient elven design - the council chamber featured a raised half-circle desk where the seven council members sat, gazing accusingly down at their victim like scolding parents. Behind her, a few rows of audience viewing leered down. The floor of the council chamber felt like an arena. Desiree was sure the lions would be released soon.
Masha stood nervously beside her. Fresh blood crusted on the front of her shirt, a nice, if matronly blouse she'd worn to the festival yesterday. Poor Masha'd never had a chance to change. Desiree, at least, was in her more sedate robes today, although she'd gotten as little sleep as Masha.
There were still a few councelors missing. Bad luck to have this happen the night of the festival - worse still, a few of the present council members looked hung-over. Tempers would be short. Desiree shifted her weight nervously, and covered a yawn.
She nearly choked on it when her mother walked in. Drusia moved around the outside, taking a seat in the lower audience stands. It was good, Desiree tried to convince herself, that her mother was here rather than at Kera's house. Mother was going to listen to the council discuss the matter first, it seemed. Whether or not she actively participated in the discussion would likely depend on what Desiree and Masha had to say.
Lovely. No pressure or anything.
-- Desiree
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Graybeard
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Re: Snamish
Benedict, as usual, had scrupulously avoided overindulgence during the festival. This morning, however, he almost wished he'd been too hung over to preside over the council, so that someone else would have to make the hard decisions. Well, wishing wouldn't make it so ... and besides, Drusia was in the room, so the hard decision might be out of the council's hands anyway.
As he scanned the chamber, he noticed with disapproval that two of the council seats were vacant. The councilors who should have occupied them were still youngsters, a mere 50 or so, and they might have been more prone to, one might say, get into the spirit of the festival than the others. That didn't make their absence any less unfortunate. If possible, it would be important to strive for unanimity on a matter as weighty as what they were about to discuss. Two missing councilors would amount to two opportunities for dissent not heard, and two episodes of second guessing later.
Well, there was nothing to do about it. He nodded gravely at the two young women, cleared his throat.
"Thank you for coming so early this morning, and after a long, hard night, at that. We know this cannot be easy for you." He took a deep breath and continued. "So we are to understand there was an -- issue with the birth at the Kondriel house. Is that correct?"
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The breakfast table was beginning to fill up. Sister Rose noticed that Bryce and Maduin came down together, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Claire and her boyfriend had exactly the same look when they appeared (although their bright eyes did have a slight hint of bloodshot to them), and Lillith and Brad (who'd returned from his prayers at the lake) ... well, they looked happy too. Rose didn't inquire too closely as to what their sleeping arrangements had been; there were things it was better not to know. Even Alia didn't look as sullen as she sometimes did. Had she learned the spell to cure a hangover? Or had she not been as drunk last night as she'd looked? And did her father's absence have anything to do with it?
"I sort of wish Benedict was here," she remarked (perhaps a bit insensitively, she would later reflect) as Beatrice bustled in with a gigantic plate of scones, followed by a cook with a similarly imposing mound of bacon. "We need to talk about plans for the day. We should retrieve the balloon --" a smile and wink at her cousin, the intrepid aeronaut-wannabe -- "and I'd like to go out to the farm and check on the person we left there guarding our things." She'd explain about Kim to Benedict later. "I also have a bit of, ah, professional business to do out there. Do you have any idea how long Benedict will be? It'd be good to have him aware of whatever plan we make."
A flicker of distress crossed Rose's ex-step-mother-in-law's face. However, it didn't linger. "Oh, you know how these political things are," she said blandly. "He never tells me the details, I don't want to know. I'm sure he'll be back by mid-morning."
The family and guests alike attacked their meal with gusto (Rose noted that a vegetarian plate had been carefully placed in front of Lillith; Beatrice was attentive to such things). Rose made all the indicated, approving noises ... but her silent mental conversation with Argus, seated next to her, wasn't quite so relaxed.
<"That's not like Benedict, not at all. Something is wrong here, and Beatrice doesn't want me to know what it is...>"
As he scanned the chamber, he noticed with disapproval that two of the council seats were vacant. The councilors who should have occupied them were still youngsters, a mere 50 or so, and they might have been more prone to, one might say, get into the spirit of the festival than the others. That didn't make their absence any less unfortunate. If possible, it would be important to strive for unanimity on a matter as weighty as what they were about to discuss. Two missing councilors would amount to two opportunities for dissent not heard, and two episodes of second guessing later.
Well, there was nothing to do about it. He nodded gravely at the two young women, cleared his throat.
"Thank you for coming so early this morning, and after a long, hard night, at that. We know this cannot be easy for you." He took a deep breath and continued. "So we are to understand there was an -- issue with the birth at the Kondriel house. Is that correct?"
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The breakfast table was beginning to fill up. Sister Rose noticed that Bryce and Maduin came down together, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Claire and her boyfriend had exactly the same look when they appeared (although their bright eyes did have a slight hint of bloodshot to them), and Lillith and Brad (who'd returned from his prayers at the lake) ... well, they looked happy too. Rose didn't inquire too closely as to what their sleeping arrangements had been; there were things it was better not to know. Even Alia didn't look as sullen as she sometimes did. Had she learned the spell to cure a hangover? Or had she not been as drunk last night as she'd looked? And did her father's absence have anything to do with it?
"I sort of wish Benedict was here," she remarked (perhaps a bit insensitively, she would later reflect) as Beatrice bustled in with a gigantic plate of scones, followed by a cook with a similarly imposing mound of bacon. "We need to talk about plans for the day. We should retrieve the balloon --" a smile and wink at her cousin, the intrepid aeronaut-wannabe -- "and I'd like to go out to the farm and check on the person we left there guarding our things." She'd explain about Kim to Benedict later. "I also have a bit of, ah, professional business to do out there. Do you have any idea how long Benedict will be? It'd be good to have him aware of whatever plan we make."
A flicker of distress crossed Rose's ex-step-mother-in-law's face. However, it didn't linger. "Oh, you know how these political things are," she said blandly. "He never tells me the details, I don't want to know. I'm sure he'll be back by mid-morning."
The family and guests alike attacked their meal with gusto (Rose noted that a vegetarian plate had been carefully placed in front of Lillith; Beatrice was attentive to such things). Rose made all the indicated, approving noises ... but her silent mental conversation with Argus, seated next to her, wasn't quite so relaxed.
<"That's not like Benedict, not at all. Something is wrong here, and Beatrice doesn't want me to know what it is...>"
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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Jack Rothwell
- Teller of Tales
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Re: Snamish
Eli arrived at the council chamber a moment later, tipping a curt salute to the gathering group as he quietly planted himself into a chair with a momentary sense of stiffness. He settled in to listen to all the boring details, striving to look attentive.