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Post by Storyteller on Dec 17, 2021 0:30:02 GMT
There is a general averting of eyes from Gallasyn, though you notice Zoe approaching him and giving some sort of hairpin? They are laughing together.
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Post by Diocles on Dec 17, 2021 0:31:47 GMT
My eyebrows rise. Isn't Zoe part of Michael's dream-link? What a strange choice! She looks like she could keep a secret as well as a sieve could hold water.
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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Dec 17, 2021 1:52:46 GMT
"Thank you all for participating. I'm so grateful that most of us inhabited the spirt in which it was intended." I look meaningfully at Gallasyn.
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Post by Storyteller on Dec 17, 2021 2:17:33 GMT
Gallasyn chuckles. "Well, Sir Roland, I simply had to add a little flair to your tedious turn on the dance-floor!"
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Nobody
Alexios Group
Posts: 1,409
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Post by Nobody on Dec 17, 2021 2:19:36 GMT
There is a general murmur at the mention of the Children. (Everyone can roll Perc+Empathy, +3 difficulty because it's busy and crowded) 2 successes
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Nobody
Alexios Group
Posts: 1,409
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Post by Nobody on Dec 17, 2021 2:43:15 GMT
With a broad, genuine smile that includes both Gallasyn's nudity and all present, I bow with a flourish and say to Sir Roland, "A master of craft it is who can inspire the soul to exhibit itself with such perfect liberty."
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Aida
Aida Group
In search of knowledge
Posts: 874
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Post by Aida on Dec 17, 2021 2:46:39 GMT
I smile wryly at Gallasyn and turn to Sir Roland. "A lovely dance, as you are always wont to give us." I bow to Sir Roland and smile warmly at him.
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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Dec 17, 2021 12:08:20 GMT
I smile and bow in return to Aida and Alexios and indeed even to Gallasyn. I then scan the room looking for Diocles.
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Post by Diocles on Dec 17, 2021 22:32:18 GMT
I catch Roland's eye and raise an eyebrow, indicating with just the slightest knot of my head Gallasyn. Surely the French Toreador did not have Gallasyn's nakedness as part of his dance!
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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Dec 17, 2021 22:44:07 GMT
I take his meaning and shake my head 'no' surreptitiously. Then, using the group chat, Do you know why the trinity are not present, nor Pakourianis?
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Post by Diocles on Dec 17, 2021 22:46:40 GMT
Pakourianis I don't know, but the Trinity will unveil themselves tomorrow night. We must be patient and hold our tongues just a while longer.
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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Dec 17, 2021 22:51:26 GMT
Thank you Diocles. Let me know how I can help. I try to read the room to see how many are with Gallasyn and how many enjoyed the performance on its own right.
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Post by Storyteller on Dec 18, 2021 0:52:39 GMT
(Roland, roll Perc+Empathy to read the audience)
There is no more entertainment that night, and the Kindred make their way to various points in the Great Palace.
(You may all have some private conversations if you wish, and any last things you want to say publicly should go here. In my next post in this thread, I'm moving to the next night, the eighth.)
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Post by Storyteller on Dec 18, 2021 1:18:00 GMT
The night of the 8 April 1197, at the Tenth Council, opens at with a formal gathering.
The three Heads of the Houses, Petronius the Arbiter, General Belisarius, and the Lady Chrysalia all approach their high seats, accompanied by a single hooded attendant.
Though it might be expected that the one to speak, to open the evening's proceedings might be the Toreador, who has so long held the reins of the City, but it is not. It is the Lady Chrysalia who steps forward.
She is flanked by the other two Heads, and they all stand, looking out over the gathered Cainites.
"Kindred of Constantinople," intones the Lady Chrysalia. "Hear me now, for I speak with the voice of fate. My eyes have seen glory, my feet trod paths of flame, and for the sake of this City, for the sake of my maker, I have labored long. The sorrows of this City are great, and who shall comfort her in her loss? For Constantinople is bereaved, the Triumvirate lost to her."
She looks out over the Kindred, and her eyes are like black coals in her face, glowing with red fire.
"No more! For the Triumvirate is returned to Constantinople! Michael the Archangel, Antonius the Gaul, and the Dracon--all here, all united once more!"
With these words, she, Petronius, and Belisarius step back, the three hooded attendants are attendants no more!
The appearance of Michael, though some of you have seen him, is overwhelming. To stand on your feet in his presence is not merely an affront, not only blasphemy, it is an impossibility.
Every Kindred kneels, some prostrating themselves, before the naked face of Michael. His hair is an aureole around his head, and his blue eyes are windows into Heaven.
But at his sides are Antonius the Gaul and the Dracon. If any could deserve to be at his sides, it is these two. For Antonius is as noble and high the dawn, his hair the color of an autumn sunset--or sunrise. The deep red of his hair, the alabaster of his skin, he could have been Adam himself, cut from the clay by the hand of God. The Dracon has no other name than his title, and to look into his face is to understand why. He is the Mountain from which came the Law, and his implacable black eye makes Michael look human!
"We are the Trinity of Kindred," they say as one, and their voices seem to come from everywhere. "From the hands of our faithful stewards, we receive this City into our care."
There is a silence deep enough to drown in after those words are spoken. It is impossible to move.
But Lady Chrysalia, somehow able to act and move and speak, comes forward, and she curtsies low.
"Receive this City, from those of us who have loved it as we love you."
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Post by Diocles on Dec 18, 2021 1:26:07 GMT
I am prostrate, my gaze fixed on the stone against which my nose is pressed, and I will not rise until commanded to do so. I'm just glad my uncle Belisarius wasn't caught by surprise.
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