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Post by Admin on Nov 13, 2005 20:32:57 GMT -6
Occasionally- though dreaded by the Queen and most likely a good portion of the High Court- all the High and Low Court gather to petition the Queen for favors, biased justice or any number of things. Today is one of those rare occasions.
Today's major event is the selection of a court musician to entertain the court- and the Queen looks as though she'd rather cut off her ears than hear anymore..
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Post by Ciel on Nov 14, 2005 10:26:38 GMT -6
Ciel is dressed in her same fare with her pretty collar on. She's looking around the Throne Room and idly toying with strands of her Queen's dress.
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Post by Erethkhaniel on Nov 14, 2005 13:52:44 GMT -6
Khan resides about halfway up a pillar to the left of the Queen's throne, his feet sporting talons which are imbedded in the stone. His posture almost makes for the visual illusion of standing just outside of thin air, as he leans back against the pillar, arms crossed and wings folded to around him in such a way as to cross just below his arms and continue past his feet. His expression, for those with the eyes to see, is a mixture of conflicting emotions ranging from amusement, to boredom, to pain, as he observes the fumbling attempts of various subjects to impress their Queen with their musical "aptitude". His eyes range over the entire court, like he is searching for something, but what, or why, is not known. They always come back to rest on the Her Majesty, however, or the area in front of her throne where the..."applicants"...do what they may, or, sometimes, behind it, searching the shadows. To those who are far away, or who are strangers to him, he seems utterly bored, dismissive, impatient even, but to those who know him well, he seems almost....restless. Anxious. Brooding.
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Post by Thane on Nov 14, 2005 22:57:26 GMT -6
Thane stands at the Doorway in an official capacity today. Thane's usual cloak is replaced with a more colorful one with the queens crest embroidered in deep purple thread on each shoulder, the back and the left chest. The hound is announcing the attendees and hopefuls for the court to identify the otherwise obscure citizens that would normally not have the privilege of the courts attentions. Thane's usual scimitar is replaced with an decorative and ornate nine ringed Kwan-Dao* that is not only beautifully decorated but is equally as menacing and deadly. The seven foot weapon has a dragon beautifully emblazoned on the heavy sterling blade and blood cup. Thick purple leather straps intertwine to become the grip and descend fully down the thick shaft to the sterling, spiked end cap. Thane taps the floor with the butt end of the Kwan-Dao as the rings jingle to signify his announcements. His attentions are always straight ahead should any attendee foolishly attempt to attack his Queen... they would be mowed down in a heartbeat by his mighty blade. Thane is also showing his displeasure with rolling eyes and flattened ears at the musical trials, because to him it is mostly loud, obnoxious and way too noisy for his preference. OOC: Kwan Dao; Chinese fighting pole axe. See them here: www.wle.com//products/w063.html
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Post by Ilinid on Nov 15, 2005 16:52:12 GMT -6
*She's been there for a few 'performances' by now, solid self-discipline all that keeps her from wincing now and again as a musician discovers a new chord, her elfin ears twitching just slightly at particularly interesting notes are pulled from instruments like a cat through a chicken-wire fence. Ilinid remains more or less aloof, not skulking in the shadows, but trying to appear unobtrusive as she observes the goings-on of the demonic courts. After her last discussion with the Queen over a game of chess, her curiosity about the differences of their courts has burned brightly and it is certainly part of her duties to the Fae peoples she represents to observe as such. Her normal green and blue gossamer robes have been replaced with a lovely wine colored dress, shimmering in the shadows. Her cloak is a deep blood-red and as usual it hides her dragonfly wings. She had some time back given her greeting to the Queen and her bodyguard Lye in all proper manner, then melted back to watch and take notes, this being a strange type of pleasure and business mix. Cautiously, perhaps, she keeps her eyes only on those she knows -the Queen or Lye- and the entertainment, though anyone who knows her, or who's skilled in such things, may notice she has overlooked nothing and just because she doesn't look doesn't mean she does not see...*
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Lye
Bourgeois
Darkangel: The Queen's BodyGuard
Posts: 166
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Post by Lye on Nov 16, 2005 3:02:55 GMT -6
Lye stands next to the Queen, trying to hold an expressionless face. Inside, she's trying to find the bad performances funny, but some are just so grating on the ears... 'Ghostie-sama,' she sends telepathically. 'We need a gong or a bell or a buzzer or SOMETHING because apparently "two minute limit" means nothing to these people.'
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Post by Admin on Nov 17, 2005 13:05:14 GMT -6
The Queen chuckles, hiding it behind her hand. She mutters to Lye
"I could let my dress eat this one he's quite terrible enough to deserve it." her dress inches out of Ciel's hands towards the offending musician.
"Do you think it's because they are playing before the court or because they are just all terrible- are all the musicians in hell this terrible? Is that part of hell? I remember that father had a group of wonderful Fallen who played and sang such magical music- I haven't heard anything like it since the last war."
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Post by Zypheron on Nov 17, 2005 13:22:49 GMT -6
About halfway down the long room is a young looking devil, whose white hair is hanging in his eyes. He watches the goings on from behind that curtain with no evident discomfort. He seems distant from the gossiping and wincing courtiers around him watching the afternoons entertainment. His eyes narrow as his gaze passes over a figure in a blue green dress.
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Post by Ciel on Nov 18, 2005 8:46:36 GMT -6
Even though the music from most of the musicians is grating and nasty, Ciel can't help but move slightly as if dancing. Though she usually has her own accompaniment, she wonders if there will be a good court musician out of this horrible bunch of bad players.
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Post by Thane on Nov 18, 2005 13:26:39 GMT -6
Thane can't handle the screeching anymore from this particular "musician" and bangs the Kwan-Dao so hard on the floor the music is interrupted. "Enough of that... Thank you!" Thane barks thoroughly annoyed. "NEXT!" Thane calls out the door for the next participant.
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Post by Lysandor on Nov 18, 2005 19:07:40 GMT -6
Lysandor stands close to the Throne, dispassionately watching the "musicians." The only difference in his attire, aside from the fact that it is in better condition than most of his clothes, is the Queen's crest on either shoulder. He looks unarmed, but his weapons are within easy reach - especially since he's keeping his hands behind his back.
As Thane calls the next paticipant, Lysandor takes his ever-vigilant eyes away from the crowd to send a grateful glance towads his comrade in arms.
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Illyon
Denizen
Marquis Incubus
Posts: 91
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Post by Illyon on Nov 18, 2005 19:32:36 GMT -6
Arms crossed over his muscular, thin chest, prehensile, barbed tail twitching in annoyance, and taloned fingers drumming impatiently on his upper arm, the Devil-Leccubi openly frowns, wincing at every dissonant note. He sneers at the so-called musicians, considering adding them to his merchandise at the end of the audition.
'It would be for their own good,' thinks the Marquis, his lip raising over his fanged teeth at a very young Kitsune fumbling with his stringed instrument. Trying not to think about the hideous performances, he turns his gaze to the crowd. He intentionally refuses to acknowledge the Fallen, and doesn't even look Thane's way.
"Musicians?" sneers Illyon, loud enough to be heard but not to be recognized. "Queen Ereshkigal would be well advised to hire them as the Palace torturers."
Those who had already participated look insulted as a few nervous titters follow his scathing announcement.
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Post by Yashea on Nov 19, 2005 18:39:20 GMT -6
Yashea is standing in the back behind a few disappointed auditioners, slender fingers curled in her hair, tugging sharply on it every few minutes. Her other hand is wrapped around a small hard leather bag, clutching it to her chest with an almost paranoid protectiveness. Her thoughts tumble upon themselves in a continual circle, always coming back to rest upon one question, which was what in the world was she doing here?
Well, seemed like a good idea at the time. But now, being in the very environment she had spent so much time avoiding, Yashea was starting to realize second doubts. What if she horribly displeases the Queen and court? Or, perhaps worse, what if she pleases them...and was actually chosen?
"Nuts," the former Angel mutters, chewing on her knuckle idly. Suddenly she starts with a jump at the angry call of 'NEXT!' and bites right through the flesh. A slight frown of annoyance is the only acknowledgement, and then that is already forgotten in the realization it's her turn.
"Ah, yes, that's me!" her soft, barely audible voice pipes up as she raises a hand, as if she were a student answering a question in class. Then it registers in her mind that she's supposed to go over and give the guardian her name. Cheeks warming, she hurries over to him, her long silken emerald skirt giving her the appearing of gliding, the image added to by her noiseless, bare-footed steps.
Amber orbs flick over the Court gathered. Oh gods. She swallows hard. "Ahh, yes, I am Yashea, here for...here for the, uh...the thing..." she gestures toward the Queen, her other hand occupied with scratching into the soft flesh exposed below her emerald top. "...audition! ...The audition."
Wait, was there protocol she neglected to follow? Was she supposed to state Yashea of...something something? Or her position? Does she have a position? She doesn't -do- anything. She only sings. Her nails gouge into her stomach during her mild panic attack, but she manages to swallow down the instinct to flee. Instead the Fallen songstress waits, and checks for the thousandth time whether the item within her bag is still there.
((sorry so long, next ones won't be))
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Post by Ciel on Nov 19, 2005 20:11:52 GMT -6
As Yashea begins to sing, Ciel curls closer to her Queen and purrs. This music is infinitely better than the other auditioners and Ciel begins to sway in place. She looks up to her Queen with a look that says, This one is gorgeous. Can we keep her?
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Post by Thane on Nov 20, 2005 1:47:07 GMT -6
Thane's red eyes scan the waiting line of participants as the fallen stands and squeaks like a tiny mouse. Thane holds the door open long enough for her to enter the Throne room and he closes it swiftly behind her. The nervous musician mumbles and gestures to the Queen of her name and intent. Thane looks at her puzzled for a moment then whispers, "Yashea, did you say?" Thane nods "Here for the audition maybe?" He confirms what he believes the fallen to be relaying to him. "Very good then... take your place before the throne and play your piece." Thane instructs her, "Do not approach the queen any closer than the 20 paces indicated before the throne, unless asked by her greatness to do so, and keep your playing at 2 minutes only." the hound instructs. Thane then turns for his introduction. With three bangs of the Kwan-Dao on the floor, Thane's deep voice fills the hall once more. "Grand Highness, Lords and Ladies of the court, I present to you... Yashea!" Thane says with a bow. His red eyes look up to her as he extends his furry paw to encourage her to take her mark and begin.
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Illyon
Denizen
Marquis Incubus
Posts: 91
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Post by Illyon on Nov 20, 2005 15:34:26 GMT -6
With some reluctance, Illyon glances towards the newest auditioner. A sneer crosses his face as he recognizes her race. He notes her nervousness, which does nothing to garner his favor. Idly, he hopes that her ability will amount the same to the others.
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Post by Ilinid on Nov 20, 2005 19:53:33 GMT -6
*If Ilinid notices Zypheron's eyes, she does not show it. Instead she seems to be focused on something else, something in line... one of the auditioners. In an effort of self-preservation, she has taken to train her ears off the current screeching and target her elfin hearing elsewhere as is displayed by the gentle motion, radar-like, that they seem to make. In so adjusting their position, which is limited, she has noticed the one biting her own knuckles. Fine elfin brows raise slightly at the outward sign of nervousness which is understandable, but should not be expressed. ~Confidence, child~ she thinks to herself but verbalizes nothing. ~Sell yourself to the court~ Of course, Ilinid's courtly mannerisms are often far different than those of Hell, but it's what she knows*
*Hearing now focused on the auditioner up next, the Ambassador listens -though it is so HARD to ignore the noise from the floor until Thane barks up- intent on the exchange between the singer and the canine-like soldier. As the fallen stumbles over her words, Ilinid finds herself trying to supply them for her, brows lifted in suggestion, leaning closer in, forming the words silently on her lips as though that would speed them to the girl and assist her... ~audition, dear. The word is audition~ but the singer manages to finally spit them out and the elf leans back again, back straight, crisis averted. Interesting, the girl's fascination with her leather bag, always absently fingering it. A bit of luck in there, perhaps? Whatever it is, hopefully this musician is easier on delicate pointed ears than the last slew of them. Excellent breeding can only cover so much, after all*
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Post by Erethkhaniel on Nov 21, 2005 22:25:44 GMT -6
Khan watches from his vantage point the exchange between the next aspirant musician and Thane, noting that this one is a fallen, and a bright, fetching one at that. All contrasts. He wonders, rather contemptuously, if this Fallen has any real talent, or merely conceited delusions of supreme musical skill, bringing them to Court in hopes of bartering them for royal notice. Ah, well, he thinks, she seems pretty enough...good for a pleasurable night or two, if nothing else. His eyes narrow further, continuing their surreptitious scanning only mildly abated by the portion of his attention granted to this glowing, hopeful, somewhat bumbling creature.
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Post by Admin on Nov 22, 2005 14:42:44 GMT -6
The queen looks over the newest player before her with a little more hope than she's given to most. After all this particular player is a fallen, one of those whose music reminds her of her father. She eyes this one with a great deal of doubt however, noting the obvious nervousness and the rapidly healing furrows on her stomach.
"You may begin when you like, Yashea." She says with a half hearted wave of her hand as she braces for more terrible playing.
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Post by Yashea on Nov 22, 2005 17:44:26 GMT -6
The Queen's voice snaps Yashea out of her slight reverie and she nods, bowing low with a natural grace and elegance belied by her previous nervousness. Taking a deep breath, she opens the leather satchel and studies the object inside for a moment, then pulls it out slowly, dropping the bag on the floor near her feet.
It's a beautiful harp, inlaid with silver and gold. Her prized possession and, though the idea may be gaudy, favorite instrument to accompany her voice. Amber orbs never leave it, as if afraid it'll suddenly vanish if she takes her gaze away. She adjusts the harp, holding it firmly against her side. A pause...and nimble fingers start to dance over the strings, slowly, as if coaxing them awake. Taking a deep breath, she starts to sing.
Yashea firmly believes that music can paint pictures in the air. Her songs, her true songs, are stories, the melody expressing the emotions she can not express herself. This particular song is her favorite, all about her life before and after, what she'd lost and gained. She normally doesn't sing it -- too many complained it made them sad. Fair enough, the true songs hurt...but she's a bit of a masochist anyway.
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