votivescholars | The Engagement Ceremony of Viatorus and Ingirun

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The Engagement Ceremony of Viatorus and Ingirun

Welcome to the world of the Durants...

Guests from the Nexus are met by an Isidor who is still dressed for business when she PINpoints them directly to the venue. She is on a mission and pleasantries are swiftly exchanged so that she can give instructions and explain how the day is going to go. The first thing to hit them is that it's hot, and bright. They are now in France, Isidor tells them, her narrative changes appropriately as she leads them from the small stone building, through immaculate gardens and towards a sprawling palace which she insists is small for what it is. This is the home of Gnonyma Durant, her grandmother. A 17th Century French palace once owned by royalty but was gifted to her family as thanks for 'a service' which Isidor says was so private that even the mage's journal doesn't detail what it was.

The air is dry and still, which makes the cool shade of indoors a pleasant relief. Like the ornate facade, the interior of the building is lined with intricate mouldings; decorated with impressive portraits; painted in bright, colourful shades; and filled with flowers and draping fabric. There is plenty of space, a fact emphasised by tiled floors that amplify each step and word. It looks as though almost every room is being used, from the way all the doors are held open for the steady flow of traffic. They are, however, let through the building and out another door. It's the quickest way to where seats sit lined up to face a gazebo decorated with ribbons and flowers that stands in front of a pond that might as well be a lake. Some people might notice the air above them ripple slightly, which certainly has nothing to do with the perfectly ornate poles at each corner of the seating area.

There are already plenty of people milling about. Servants stride from one place to another, expertly staying out of the way of the guests. There are some men and women who are dressed well for the occasion, but like the servants they stay out of the way and scan the area repeatedly, making no attempts to engage with the guests - security, judging by their earpieces. Members of the Durant family are easy to spot. They move in groups or pairs, often getting headed off by people looking to talk to them. A large majority of them also sport sashes of either red or purple with gold trim and ornate pins that vary from person to person. This, Isidor explains, is how you spot a patron and an accomplished scholar, based on the red or purple respectively. Viatorus is not yet an accomplished scholar, which is why they have no sashes. Members of Runa's family are equally easy to spot for those that know her. They would be the large group of tall, golden haired men and women with the distinctive Swedish accents happily talking to anyone and everyone.

After guiding them to their seats she tells them that the ceremony will be another twenty minutes and takes her leave to go and sort out the other numerous things on her endless list. Nobody bothers them while they wait. Everyone is too busy spotting old friends or making their way to their seats. It's a good time to enjoy the scenery. There is a small collection of musicians with harps, violins and flutes to one side. Even the breeze is smelling sweet with the perfume of the bouquets.

Within fifteen minutes Viatorus appears in a tailored suit of light grey and deep purple. He is closely followed by an older, stocky looking man in a black suit and purple tie, and sporting a red and black sash that is even more ornate than any others. Whatever the man is saying to him Viatorus barely gets more of a wave of recognition in to his friends before he's being guided to the gazebo and kept there. Shortly after he's joined by a young man and two women with tanned skin and black hair dressed in simple, but high quality clothes of purple, draping fabric. They look as serious as the man beside Viatorus. That is about the time Isidor reappears in more appropriate attire. She in turn heralds the appearance of a woman who shares her features, dressed in elegant gold and black, who is accompanied by a man whose black suit and purple tie are considerably more simple than his purple sash. Its intricacy matches that of the red one worn by the man standing next to Viatorus. The mood seems to shift at the appearance of these last two guests, becoming quieter, expectant. The Durants gather together, and Viatorus' fidgeting increases tenfold as they exchange words. The men with the sashes and the woman in gold take their seats, many of the guests follow suit.

The ceremony begins...

The young man in purple walks with his staff to stand at the head of the aisle and asks that everyone takes their seats. Exactly twenty minutes after the Nexus guests were shown their seats, the ceremony begins. The young man introduces himself as the high priest of Despoina and welcomes them to the union of the two families Durant and Nyström. As it is a ceremony to mark the union of two families with two sets of tradition and two sets of gods to honour, this will be a merging of these two cultures. It will be a handfasting ceremony of the Old Ways, he explains. This means that the couple will be as man and wife for a year and a day, and after that time they must choose if they wish to marry or separate. The guests now better informed, the priest stands back under the gazebo where a nervous Viatorus and patient Isidor stand waiting. On cue, the musicians start playing unfamiliar, but pleasant music to introduce the arrival of Ingirun dressed in white and accompanied by a rounded, red cheeked man, and followed by a woman who must certainly be one of her sisters. Once she was beside Viatorus, Ingirun's father sat down and the ceremony began.

The priest talked of uniting the two families, naming the virtues of both, as he got the bride-and-groom-to-be to hold hands which he bound in ribbons. He then took them through their vows before invoking the gods and goddesses to bless the union. The mixture of Greek and Norse deities made for a complicated blessing that might have been compared to seeking the approval of two powerful families. With wishes given, the priest unwrapped their hands and had the betrothed drink from the same cup. All in all it was a short ceremony as ceremonies go. A few more blessings were given and then the couple were prompted to kiss to seal the pact, which a bright red Viatorus did, very timidly. Luckily that only made Runa beam more brightly than she already was.

Dinner was in a large hall with close family at the head of the room and everyone else seated at round tables. Every position was carefully chosen, of course. The inevitable speeches came from the father of the bride (who rambled joyously about how happy he was to see his daughter with such a fine young man) and the mother of the groom (who gently, warmly, welcomed Runa into the family and spoke of how proud she and his father were). Drinks were plentiful, as were the courses. There were six in total with a selection of each: Appetisers, soup, fish, the main course, dessert, and a palate cleanser. No one will be going hungry tonight, that's a certainty.

After dinner it's Isidor who stands to say a few last words. She thanks everyone for coming and instructs them to enjoy the evening and all the festivities which "will go on at least until dawn". With that, guests are bid to go and enjoy the entertainment filling the palace.

And now for the party...

There isn't a single place that isn't being used for the party. The gardens have pleasant music playing in them, chairs and tables laid out with cushions and blankets for people to lounge in. One of the largest halls is set out for dancers and their spectators to enjoy live musicians that will play ballroom music for the first part of the evening and be replaced by a band that plays modern music for the second. There is a small room of bookshelves and leather armchairs where men congregate to sip whiskey. Rooms with couches and chairs have people moving in and out of them joining and starting conversations. The priest tends to three statues of goddesses that stand at the end of one room. Here he collects gifts and offerings for the couple's happy future. A man with a perfect smile enthralls a crowd with stories that are only exciting because of the way he tells them. A demure woman facilitates a conversation between straight backed men with chiseled features and shorter tanned men who look equally as disciplined. Servants are found throughout, bringing drinks and snacks to anyone who asks or so much as looks as if they're considering either.

((Feel free to backtag, threadhop, start threads, look for more NPCs, whatever you like! If you're unsure of something, looking for more details, or want to plot then you know the drill - Send a message my way and we'll chat!

Note about gifts: It will say on your character's invitation that gifts are optional and it is suggested that a gift to the gods/goddesses would be more than suitable instead.))

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The Nyströms are a small crowd of tall, blonde, tanned people, with the exception of the eldest man who is slightly shorter and rounder than the rest. In place of the Durants' sashes, they distinguish themselves (purposefully or not) by wearing lighter, brighter colours than the Durant. It's not hard to see where Runa's style came from. They are unmistakably her family.

They happily talk to whoever passes them by, which makes getting places a difficult task. Even as they start to disperse, they aren't very far from each other. That is, apart from one woman who is doing her best to shepherd three children around the garden while her husband holds a squirming baby with a certain level of concern.

Through the throng of people, a woman comes marching out with such explosive strides that it looks as though she’s just left a fight to look for a new one. Her black, curly hair looks ready to spring free of its bun, her make up is minimal, and her dress lacks the intricacy of many of the other Durant outfits, despite the purple sash that struggles with the speed she’s walking at. A comparatively pleasant, pristine blond woman with a far more retro style and no sash follows her. The Durant marches up to the stranger, stops dead, and looks them up and down. The Smith is looking for weapons.

Edited 2017-06-19 20:53 (UTC)

Between the chaperones, the constant company, the unique sash and the general aura of importance, the Archon is not difficult to pick out of the crowd. Anything and everything he could possibly want is brought to him, so he has no reason to move from the first room he entered. He stands, listening to people talk and talk and talk to him. Every so often he says something himself and, every single time, his small audience goes silent.

It's locked in this endless conversation that the Archon can be found, should anyone want to meet him.

In the middle of all the voices, music, footfall and tinking of glasses, there is one room which is exceptionally quiet and eerily still. It is in this room that three statues stand. One is a woman with long, flowing hair who sits on a throne, holding a spindle between her fingers. Another is of a woman who is so excellently carved that the veil that covers her face does not hide her features. Behind both of these is another statue of a woman, who may also be three women. She has three faces and two arms hold torches while another arm holds a dagger and yet another has a snake wrapped around it. If a person stares for too long they may find themselves swearing they saw lips part, heads turn, or chests rise and fall in a breath.

The two veiled women from the ceremony stand either side of the statues, only moving to attend to guests. The priest focuses primarily on keeping the place as it should be. He lights incense, filling the air with the scents of frankincense, myrrh, and laurel. Every now and then he talks to someone looking to ask him questions, but when they leave, he stays.

Edited 2017-06-19 21:06 (UTC)

“Oop! Excuse me!” A white haired, middle aged man scuttles in past the Nexus guest, hunched over until he’s between a wall and the stranger, the former of which he flattens against and the latter he hides behind. After a second of looking exceptionally conspicuous, he asks, “Did she follow me?” He splutters apologetically before clarifying, “My wife. The shrewd woman with her hair so tight her face is pure white.”

To those who notice social patterns it's rather clear that Lieselotte and Stathis are taking turns chaperoning the Archon. Lieselotte plays the role of an elegant wife brilliantly, and Stathis takes her place when the appearance of strength is more useful. In a way it's more kind than annoying. They both get a chance to move through the crowd and talk to their many guests.

Upon Stathis' release, he almost always hunts down the nearest servant to replace his whiskey. When he can't find his preferred conversational partners, he opts for a comfortable chair with a view instead. He can almost always be found within eyeshot of the Archon, branded with his bright red, elaborately decorated sash.

Lieselotte on the other hand is more active. When given her cue to leave, she glides from the latest group to have descended upon the Archon and casts her eye for someone to greet. The newer guests are the most interesting. As soon as she spots someone she walks over with a warm, motherly smile and asks, "Are you enjoying the party?"

Although Poenia has a wretched reputation for her passion for her work, and she is related to the fiery Isidor, she doesn’t rush off to see what havoc she can cause right away. For a good half hour she watches everyone flit past, thinking. When she does finally go to move, her brother sighs before excusing himself from his (currently pleasant) conversation to follow her. He looks like a prince in his sleek blue-grey suit, his chiseled jawline and his easy, confident stride. She looks like a curious, pretty girl in her dress that bounces with each half-hopping step as she scans for interesting people.

They approach the first Nexus guest she sees and though her eyes are bright and just a hint manic, she keeps her smile reserved. Her nails tap once against the wine glass clutched in her hands before she says, “Hello.”

Edited 2017-06-19 20:53 (UTC)

From the moment that Harrowheart and his sister, Anna, arrive on Earth, arm in arm, each of them loses all pretense of their former selves.

Anna, who took Runa's advice when shopping for a dress, arrives in a turquoise damask party dress that shows off her suntanned skin and is brightened by her blonde hair curled around her shoulders. She's a tall woman without much of a figure, but that's nothing a dress with a forced waistline can't fix. She holds a matching coinpurse in both hands and seems glad for something to keep her grounded. Normally a woman with a sense of dignity, she can't help but stare in awe and smile, starry-eyed, at everything she's seeing. A party like this... A castle full of the upper class, scholars, mages, servants in attendance to wait on them – No, her! It's like a dream come true, but better, really, because she's not sure she could have imagined something as wondrous as this evening.

Harrowheart, however, is quite the opposite. While normally he's the one to hang his mouth open and gawk at everything that surprises him, tonight he's tasked with a mission: Be serious, though friendly. Be powerful, yet approachable. Be himself, but a more mannerly self. Above all he must make a fantastic impression – or at the very least not a bad one. He's gone to great lengths to dress in the sort of outfit that King Anduin himself might have worn when he was Prince. By Earth standards he wouldn't be out of place in the Regency period with his high collars, large lapels on a dusky purple vest, and cream-colored slacks tucked into high, leather boots. A thick, leather scabbard is slung across his back to keep his runeblade close, yet hidden. Under the scabbard is a split, two-piece cape with darkly purple swords woven onto a lighter purple surrounding. A silvery metal shoulderplate is the only hint of armor on him, and in lieu of a tabard of the Ebon Blade he wears a purple cloth belt that drapes down the front of his legs. His cold hands are kept hidden beneath soft cloth gloves and bound to his wrists with thick, leather bracers. In his free hand he carries what is certainly a bottle of wine wrapped in purple cloth.

As Isidor leads them through the castle he wears a grimly serious expression, but his curiosity is unmistakeable in the way he hangs on her every word and takes in the scenery with quick motions of his head. While they wait for the ceremony to begin he sits stiffly, moving only to whisper with his overjoyed sister.

But when Viatorus first appears his facade immediately cracks. He smiles warmly, and there's even a hint of pride in his eyes, as if he were seeing one of his own brothers going through with this ceremony. He and his sister whisper happily between themselves until the man in purple arrives, at which time both of them remember their manners and return to silence. But their stoicism isn't meant to last, as Runa soon appears with her father and sister at her side. Anna squeezes Harrowheart's leg, as if he might miss Ingirun's entrance otherwise, and he watches with a broad smile. The kiss with which they seal their temporary union is too sweet to ignore, and both Weatherhills can't help but quietly clap for their friends.

Dinner isn't a difficult affair for the two of them, who spent a considerable amount of time studying etiquette since receiving their invitations. Cutlery is to be used outward, then inward. Elbows never touch the table. One piece of food is cut at a time, words are never spoken with food in the mouth, reaching is completely out of the question. The help is there to help, after all. Anna compliments every round of food before she takes her first bite and after her last, and Harrowheart keeps it (mostly) to himself that he'd have liked to bring his phone to photograph it all.

When it's time to give offerings to the goddesses the two of them present their gift: Inside the cloth sack is indeed a bottle of wine in a bipyramidal bottle with a strangely long neck. The dark liquid inside glows with a faint light and a not-so-faint magical energy. Arcwine, Harrowheart explains, directly from the fruit of a tree infused with the energies of the Nightwell, a font of tremendous arcane power. What he, of all people, did to procure it remains unsaid. It's a gift! You never tell what you paid for a gift. He does hope aloud, though, that one bottle is a fair gift for multiple goddesses. He jokes (with only a little regret after) that it might be part of the first meal they get to share together.

And then it's on to the party. Light, it's a free-for-all. There are no rules, no guides. One survives on their wits, tenacity, and willingness to ~~kill~~ make pleasant conversation with the upper crust. It's a notion that the well-read Anna isn't at all intimidated by; whether she knows Earth's culture or not, she knows she'll be able to entertain and be entertained with a little bit of bravery and a good attitude. She might even meet some fellow Nexus denizens as she goes along!

Harrowheart, though... He tries hard not to eyeball the alcohol passing by him and absolutely seeks Nexusgoers before Earth's stuffy mages. He's going to need a warm-up before he moves onto the heavy stuff.

Adia can do little more than thank Isidor for showing her to her seat, her wide eyes taking in everything around her. It’s beautiful. The palace, the gardens, the decorated gazebo. The fact that it is in France, a country similar to her home, is the icing on the cake.

Dressed in the green party dress she wore at the Halloween party, she tries not to feel inadequate. Everything and everyone around her is so fancy, like something out of a movie. She’s been to weddings and other formal events before, but nothing like this. She reminds herself that her hair is clean, as are her simple heels. She’s fine.

The ceremony begins and Adia forgets to be self-conscious, focusing instead on the procession of people who come to the gazebo. She gives Viatorus a bright, encouraging smile — you can do it, friend! Runa is easy enough to identify in her white dress, and wow, she is so pretty. Although she’s paying attention to the ceremony itself, in particular the mention of Greek gods, her gaze stays on the young couple. When they kiss, she smiles to herself. They look so sweet together; she really hopes that everything works out for them.

Dinner is a quiet affair for her. Food scarcity is a constant threat in the Fleet, even with the replenishing of their algae vats, so she eats everything, but slowly, not wanting to make herself sick. It’s all delicious, of course. She even savors the palate cleanser.

It’s after dinner that Adia’s nervousness returns. So. Many. People. And the gift she brought for the goddesses — a bouquet of yellow tulips — seems inadequate compared to what other people have left. Clutching her small purse in her hands, she finds a comfortable seat in the garden and hopes that she’ll eventually spot someone she knows.

Felix isn’t dramatic by nature, but he does aim to make the right impression. The Imperial mage has dressed for the occasion in formal Tamrielic mage wear. His robes are a slightly less elaborate version of those worn by the masters of his school, colored in a combination of Imperial red and shades of golden-brown. He steps through the door with a swish of well-cut cloth, face shadowed beneath a hood, Jim looking amazing at his side and the delicate, burning figure of a flame elemental trailing sparks behind them. She’s there to carry the gifts.

Felix sweeps his gaze around the room calmly when they arrive, then flashes a smile to Jim and reaches up to lower his hood. The atronach is directed to wait out of the way for a while. The prelude to the ceremony is a good time for reconnaissance of the power dynamics at play among the other guests: who seems more subordinate, who’s eager to greet or escape another – most important, what are the unspoken bits of protocol everyone else knows here? He remarks on the more interesting points to Jim very softly, the people quite distracting him from the impressive surroundings. And they are impressive, tangible assurances of the family’s wealth and standing that give the Imperial all the more incentive to look as if he knows exactly what he’s doing.

The ceremony, though- that he leans forward for, intent on the rites and the powers being invoked. He tried to do some research on the deities involved but as usual, what is written is nothing to what is witnessed. When the pact is sealed and done he nods, smiling with approval. There’s no time to digest that though because it’s time for dinner. Time for him to get on duty.

From the moment they rejoin the other guests Felix is… well, at his most Felix. He’s courteous, pleasantly inquisitive, deferential only as appropriate, charming and witty where possible, always, always maneuvering. He takes care to cast a glowing light on Jim (as if he needs it), backing him up to ensure his boyfriend isn’t caught out by the magical discussion; relying on Jim to ensure he doesn’t look foolish about Earth matters. Amused smiles and cryptic remarks only cover so much. Besides being a friend and ally of Viatorus, he’s here representing his family and a mysterious distant Empire. He’s here to sound out the politics, the people and the power on offer here. He’s here to make friends.

And he’s having fun! It’s like being back in Cyrodiil. Small alliances and gathering intelligence and being careful of one’s positioning. When dinner ends he recalls his elemental servant to his side and basks in the curiosity of intrigued Earth mages, politely disregards the disdain of others. Ignores the butler stalking them with a fire extinguisher. His first port of call will be the shrine, of course. But after that he’s free to team up with Jim in working the room.

And he does intend to get at least one dance with the captain.

As the evening progresses and the sun slowly, reluctantly, starts to lower, the atmosphere shifts ever so slightly. Dark corners become darker and open flame torches appear outside along orbs of light. Inside the band drums and strums with more energised beats, dancers becoming, as one elderly Durant put it, revelrous. The more modern band is accompanied by a woman who dances around them while she conjures twisting, flicking lights and even figures and shapes that match the music. Everything she makes as a glowing, ethereal quality about them as they move between the people on the dancefloor. In the other rooms large groups have congregated to a select few spaces where their jovial banter can be politely contained, and more private meetings are held in rooms in with armchairs huddled together for conspiratorial discussions.

Once the sun sets torches appear outside to outline a circle which people slowly start to gather around, as if drawn by some invisible force. Certainly not subtle directions given by especially discreet servants and the ever attentive hosts. Not long after a good crowd has gathered, including the Archon and the couple of honour, Isidor appears alongside a tall man who shares her determined, set jaw. Isidor has changed into a simple black backless dress with an asymmetrical skirt and no sleeves. Her hair is loose and her feet are bare, giving her an altogether wild look. For a Durant, at least. Her companion is also barefoot, his trousers are loose and black. He, having no shirt, bares an exceptionally well sculpted torso, but also reveals dark lines running along the veins of his forearms.

Isidor stands in the middle of the circle and scans the crowd until she spots her brother, Runa by his side. She can't help but smile a little at the sight of them together. "Viatorus and Ingirun, this is for you. We wish you both every happiness in your future together, and we hope you enjoy this dance."

The two take their place at opposite sides of the circle, nod to each other once they are ready, and wait for the music to begin. Once it starts they stretch out their hands in unison, summoning flames in one hand and then another. Their hands twist, the flames at their palms, but then the fire twists around their hands. They start to move around the circle, changing their direction suddenly but simultaneously. The fire moves from their hands, two fireballs spinning around each of them until it merges into a streak, a fiery ribbon twisting around them as they twist around the circle. Suddenly they both stop, their heads snapping to meet the other's gaze. In a few, swift bounds, they meet in the middle, fire whipping around them in a display of discipline that gets gasps from the audience. It's fast and close, but as they twist and turn, neither is touched by the flames. The man lashes out his whip just as Isidor bends backwards, and then drops low. It almost looks like a fight. That is, until they face each other again and the fire merges. They pass it between each other and direct it with stretches and twists, slowing down the performance for a moment. As the music builds for the climax, the fire splits again and they move even closer, an intricate tangle of fire and limbs that intertwine while they move in spirals around their floor. Then the man lifts Isidor in one smooth motion and she stands on his shoulders, flames twisting around in a fiery tower completed once the man spreads his arms and they catch fire. They hold that position for a few seconds before the flames vanish and the man helps Isidor from his shoulders.

A performance with so much fire does have the added benefit of warding away what little chill there is in the air, so after a hearty round of applause most people happily linger to chat to each other. After a brief, happy conversation with her dance partner, Isidor seeks out the nearest servant with a tray of drinks.

Edited 2017-08-10 21:32 (UTC)

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The Nyströms

Hephaestia

The Triad - Archon, Lieselotte & Stathis

The Priest

Oraskis - The Seer