Out of this wood do not desire to go.
When all was said and done, it looked like something out of a storybook.
A wonderful, wicked storybook that might've been left behind by the gypsies of Garlan-- a jungle clearing, filled with bustling bodies and the wild heartbeat of drums. If you watched the crowd, you spied a jeweled wing here, a vine-entwined belly there, glitter and paint and sweat coating skin in equal measure. It was the island transformed. He'd expected it would be, as always with these masked revels, a coy guessing game that was never really guessing so much as flirtation, but as his eyes scanned the crowd, Cuthbert found himself genuinely wondering who some of these folk were.
There, a tall man in antlers and boarskins goading a flame-colored fairy-girl over the bonfire. And over there, one of his own, a member of the Court with the crown resting in her tousled blonde locks, chasing a boy in faun-like trousers, soot smeared on their faces and looking mad in the flashing firelight-- he wasn't sure he could name either. The wine was going fast, but there was plenty more, and a good thing, too, because it was early. The twins were ahead on the darkening beach, getting the big-bangers ready.
At the other end of the clearing, Bert saw two of his Court members leading a loudly protesting bride beneath newlywed bower with her new husband, binding their wrists tight with green ribbon and showering them both with handfuls of sparkledust and leaves and those odd little rubber lambskins. Cuthbert leaned forward in his throne and laughed, accidentally spilling most of his wine on the stage and not particularly minding.
"Uh, hey-- sir?" asked a hopeful partygoer, eyeing the crimson scallop-shells strung about his neck. Probably trying to get out of playing pincushion to Aly's knife-toss. "Another cup of wine?"
Cuthbert hesitated, then grinned impishly below the mask. "Why, yes. Another cup of wine, full up. But have that young lady bring it up, would you?"
It was good to be king.
[THIS POST IS NOW CLOSED TO NEW TOP LEVELS. You may continue to tag, of course, but all new top levels should go in the mirror post. Happy Midsummer, Islanders! Everyone enjoy yourselves. Please put an **asterisk** in your top level comment title if you'd like Fairy Court interference; they may link you to a top level for the chosen activity in the post following this one. You don't have to sign up, but contact one of the Fairy Court members to see about getting a tag. And please be patient-- we do mean to get to as many people as possible. More info here and here.]
A wonderful, wicked storybook that might've been left behind by the gypsies of Garlan-- a jungle clearing, filled with bustling bodies and the wild heartbeat of drums. If you watched the crowd, you spied a jeweled wing here, a vine-entwined belly there, glitter and paint and sweat coating skin in equal measure. It was the island transformed. He'd expected it would be, as always with these masked revels, a coy guessing game that was never really guessing so much as flirtation, but as his eyes scanned the crowd, Cuthbert found himself genuinely wondering who some of these folk were.
There, a tall man in antlers and boarskins goading a flame-colored fairy-girl over the bonfire. And over there, one of his own, a member of the Court with the crown resting in her tousled blonde locks, chasing a boy in faun-like trousers, soot smeared on their faces and looking mad in the flashing firelight-- he wasn't sure he could name either. The wine was going fast, but there was plenty more, and a good thing, too, because it was early. The twins were ahead on the darkening beach, getting the big-bangers ready.
At the other end of the clearing, Bert saw two of his Court members leading a loudly protesting bride beneath newlywed bower with her new husband, binding their wrists tight with green ribbon and showering them both with handfuls of sparkledust and leaves and those odd little rubber lambskins. Cuthbert leaned forward in his throne and laughed, accidentally spilling most of his wine on the stage and not particularly minding.
"Uh, hey-- sir?" asked a hopeful partygoer, eyeing the crimson scallop-shells strung about his neck. Probably trying to get out of playing pincushion to Aly's knife-toss. "Another cup of wine?"
Cuthbert hesitated, then grinned impishly below the mask. "Why, yes. Another cup of wine, full up. But have that young lady bring it up, would you?"
It was good to be king.
[THIS POST IS NOW CLOSED TO NEW TOP LEVELS. You may continue to tag, of course, but all new top levels should go in the mirror post. Happy Midsummer, Islanders! Everyone enjoy yourselves. Please put an **asterisk** in your top level comment title if you'd like Fairy Court interference; they may link you to a top level for the chosen activity in the post following this one. You don't have to sign up, but contact one of the Fairy Court members to see about getting a tag. And please be patient-- we do mean to get to as many people as possible. More info here and here.]