celebrate a day focused on and filled with love this valentine’s day here in shrike heights !
at a time that has been so hard on every resident of shrike heights, the town has rallied together to make this valentine’s day one filled with nothing but love and joy and everything the celebrated day stands for. from discounts for couple activities to sweet treats to gift your valentine, shrike mall and the town of shrike have gone above and beyond to give you and your valentine the perfect day amongst so much of shrike heights’ regular chaos.
find a detailed program of every participating business in shrike heights below !
time: REGULAR BUSINESS HOURS
date: 02/14/1988
location: SHRIKE HEIGHTS
shrike mall
a new chapter - don’t have a valentine? that’s no worries! pick up one of our highlighted and highly acclaimed romance novels to keep you busy on valentine’s night instead.
angel’s dinner theatre - take your valentine on a date to angel’s to see our special love themed performances this evening.
applebee’s - take your valentine to applebee’s this february 14th and get a free dessert with every two main meals purchased.
come what may - bring passion to your valentine’s day by shopping our discounted and specially curated valentine’s range of toys and accessories.
cupid’s - send your valentines via our delivery service to add even more magic to your message, and find our messengers all over shrike heights spreading the gift of love.
donna’s roller disco - bring your valentine to the rink for our special valentine’s day couples skating night.
flour power - share sweet, valentines themed baked goods with your loved ones (valentines or otherwise) today.
jennifer’s - shop our selection of lingerie fit for the perfect valentine’s day present or valentine’s day treat.
karaoke dokie - get discounted private rooms so you and your valentine can sing love ballads without wait time or an audience.
lapaws - bring love into your life in another way by adopting one of our rescued animals in need of their forever home during our valentine’s adoption event.
life rose on - shop our range of valentine’s arrangements, and get discounted arrangements when you get them delivered by a cupid’s messenger!
olive garden - bring your date to olive garden and buy one main meal to get your valentine’s meal half price!
showtime - spend your valentine’s night in with a selection of our finest and romantic films and love stories, specially highlighted for you by staff.
shrike heights radio - tune in to the station this valentine’s day to listen to the best selection of love songs, and get a message dedicated to your valentine live on air!
shrike spa service - get a discounted couples massage or treat yourself or a partner to a luxury massage with us this valentine’s day.
starstrike - go on a bowling date with your valentine. rent one pair of bowling shoes and get your second pair without a fee.
sunrise drive in and theatre - attend our special drive in event and see the most classic love stories on the big screen with your valentine.
sweet tooth - buy your valentine sweet candy and confectionary treats with our valentines themed selection.
the town of shrike
creepie’s - alternatively, if you’re anti-valentine’s come down to creepie’s bar to get discounted drinks and to meet likeminded singles.
lake love - get discounted ice skate rentals and hit the ice with your lover before the winter comes to an end.
pizza time - order our special heart shaped valentine’s pizzas when ordering dinner at our beloved downtown pizzeria.
ski lodge and hotel - dig into our buffet breakfast for free the next morning with every hotel room booking.
wastoid club - dance alone or with a valentine to everyone’s favourite - and high energy - love songs.
ooc info - happy valentines day ! this is less of an event and more of a detailing of what regularly happens in shrike heights on the day for added lore building and points of interaction. event interactions may begin immediately or any time after the date, and there will be no plot drop associated with this event. feel free to utilise tumblr’s ask or submit feature to send your muses’ loved ones valentines ( from a secret admirer or signed with their name ) and if you wish to, send in a dedication or personalised message for your muses’ valentines to hear on shrikes! throughout the day. as always, don’t hesitate to ask us any questions !
who: open
what: chit chat with an excited bb witch
where: cherie’s closet’s bid booth <3
Rory had been running around for hours. It was a blur of fun- from hovering at Jillian’s elbow trying to help with the bids (until she was shooed away to go have fun), to enjoying her uncle’s good mood at the Drafthouse stall. Seeing him so happy made her feel deliriously so- she wanted to bask in it as long as she could. But there was no resisting the pull of the celebrations, so she stole a snack, dodged the scarf Rocky threw at her, and left the stall and his ringing laughter behind. Jillian nearly chased her away as she approached the bid booth again before she protested that she was there to actually buy something for one of my friends! I swear!
“How important do you think the bids actually are to the Trials?” Rory mused to the person next to her. She’d been pleasantly surprised by Uncle Rocky pinning dried cherry blossoms to her cloak this morning, and she had a pretty pouch that Jillian had given her at the end of her shift, but she sort of figured those would be the only ones she ended up with. This was The Hallows, surely making it through the trials was more than just a popularity contest, right? “Either way there’s some really cool stuff this year! Need help picking something for somebody?”
Erin arrived late and stressed out. She had considered not showing up at all, but she’d made this whole blasted thing of mac and cheese, and late or not this was a good arena to promote the opening of her store. At least she thought it would be until she came in and saw people collapsing onto the floor in pain all over the locale. “The fuck...” she muttered, looking around. She had no idea what was going on, but it didn’t look good. “Hey, what’s going on?” she asked the closest person, “has anyone called 911?”
LOCATION: just outside st. petersburg, around a campfire
STATUS: closed for @minotaur-unslain
Soft crackling of pine sap in a fresh fire sends a pleasant smell of warmth around them as they take a last break before reaching the city. It might not be totally necessary, and it might be more of a risk than anything, but the quiet freedom of the pine woods that they’ve been trekking through, easy conversation and easy silence, has made them all more willing to take their time, to savor this. The others have split off, making final preparations to go into town, but Ceydran offered to stay and watch the campfire dwindle until it’s safe to put out, and Jin offered to keep him company.
So now here they are. Comfortable silence, as is so often the case between them both. Warmer than the fire is the smile that flickers across Ceydran’s face when he recalls them just an hour or so ago, tossing Homeric quotes around to the chuckling annoyance of their friends. It had felt so... young. Like a childhood, almost, something barely glimpsed. He wants to thank Jin for it, but can’t seem to find the words. He coughs lightly. “Where’d you learn Homer?” he asks, voice catching slightly. “Thought you were a law student, didn’t think they taught the arts to you jackasses.”
It’s An Fidchell! What some humans have been training a whole year—or their whole lives—for. It’s time for the high stakes game of the fey to happen on the summer solstice. Unlike the training, which happens at Goldhide Hall in the Seelie Court or Barebone Hall in the Unseelie Court, the annual An Fidchell event gathers every and all fey to the neutral and sacred area of Tara in An Sídalann to watch. It takes place in a round, open-air arena (see above, center) not unlike a gladiatorial setup.
Unfortunately, unaligned humans cannot attend, but don’t worry—they’ll have somewhere else to be shortly...
For timeline purposes, the event is timestamped for June 21st at sunset. There is tailgating prior, so you’re welcome to write threads before sunset. This is a two part event; it just got too lengthy, so this part is setting the scene and exposition of important information. Details of what happens next is coming in an hour or two! Our next event will be on July 27th.
THE STORY
The weather in Tara is a beautiful, temperate 53 degrees, clear and sunny, with a gentle but not disruptive breeze—not unlike the weather in Ireland right now. Everyone will have been filing in all afternoon, jockeying for the best seats, sharing elixirs and drinking and laughing, some even tailgating the event while others hold their spots. As the sun gets lower in the sky and the shadows get taller, the fey and their aligned humans will filter into the arena.
Everyone stands until the King of the Seelie and the Queen of the Unseelie enter, at the same time, from different side hallways and walk to meet one another in the royal box that overlooks the center of the board. On this special occasion, even the royal Staves make an appearance, one in the hand of each Court. Only once the rulers are seated do the rest sit. Then Lark steps out of the center hallway and to the center of the board, her feet light across the checkers of gold and bone white, and she sings Glory and Gore to the delight of the cheering, onlooking crowd. She rallies their excitement and their allegiance before retiring to her chosen, choice seat.
As the reigning champions from the year prior, the Seelie enter first. Forest begins the line as the Overseer; he says, “Nature’s first green is gold,” the Seelie motto—pausing for a roaring cheer and the stomping of feet—before continuing, “May I present to you the Seelie Elite 5 of 2018: Rachel, Michael, Davey, Guilia, and Scott!” And the Players enter in behind him, dressed in their sleek gold uniforms so that the blood falls clean off and leaves them unblemished. As each name is called, the Player removes their veil—for the Seelie, a gold lace embellished with swarovski sun rays—to show their faces. Should they die, the veil will become their shroud.
After the Seelie Players receive a standing ovation, Ivy, as the Unseelie Overseer, enters from the opposing hallway—where the Queen had entered from—and she says, “Blood is bright but bone endures!” causing mayhem to erupt on the side of the arena housing the most Unseelie, hooting and hollering, until the Queen makes a regal gesture with her open palm held up to ask for quiet. Ivy continues, “May I present to you the Unseelie Elite 5 of 2018: Celine, Alexander, Elise, Roberto, and John!” And the Players enter in behind her, dressed in their supple white leather uniforms so that by the end, each uniform will be drenched in and proudly display the blood of their opponents. As each name is called, the Player removes their veil—for the Unseelie, a black lace embellished with swarovski icicles—to show their faces.
It is then that the Overseers go to their sides of the board and the Players take their starting positions on it, with two in the back and three in the front, with the most adaptable—or expectedly so—as those front three. In fidchell lingo, the front three positions are called branches, while the back two are called roots. Then, all eyes turn to the royal box, awaiting their announcements and commencements. Each royal is in their finery today, accompanied in their box by their Archfey: Garnet, Oleander, Cobalt, Camellia, Malachite, and Rowan. Each face is composed into intensity or into excitement, or both.
King Adare speaks first: “Welcome to the 413th annual An Fidchell game!” and the crowd goes wild once more. They had played fidchell before that fateful summer, but 1605 was the midsummer that the fey set the same date and protocols every year and made it into the formal game it is known as today. “I would like to take this time to proclaim that the Seelie Court has known its first birth in nearly sixty years! Hail the future heir, my son, Prince Ossian!” And he gestures to where Freesia sits—not in the royal box because she had declined the invitation, but nearby—and some applause goes through the Seelie, though it is elation mixed with tension.
He goes on to say, “In the event that the Seelie should lose this year, I have wagered to name the mother of my baseborn children, Marigold and Jasmine, and I will keep this vow.” After this, Adare again takes his seat, and the Queen stands, continuing, “In the event that the Unseelie should lose this year, I have wagered to name the father of my heir, Princess Camellia, and I will keep this vow.” There is a small pause, almost a hesitation but not long enough to be one, before she continues, “And with this statement of wagers, let the battle of Gold versus Bone begin!” Queen Lacha commanded before retaking her seat.
As the underdogs, the Unseelie get to make the first move, and so Ivy starts, telling Celine to move diagonal right...
THE LAST MATCH
Trigger warning for violence, gore, blood, and character death.
Written by Ellie @daveyventura with consent from Amoux @elise-senfuit
This was a nightmare Davey’d had before, but he’d gotten the details wrong.
The blood staining his hands was warmer than he’d expected; bones cracked and crumbled under his steel bat with sickening ease; death came so much more quickly than he’d anticipated, the light leaving each fallen Player’s eyes in an instant.
With each death on his hands he felt neither relief nor guilt; he just felt farther away, until he was aware of only his hands and his bat and the ache in his chest that begged for this day to be over.
Two of them left, and this also was just like his nightmares. Some nights it was Danica he stood opposite. Sometimes Kaitlin. Today, Elise.
But this time he wasn’t dreaming his friend standing opposite him, looking every bit as weary as he felt—and every bit as heartbroken, and every bit as determined. There were no friends on the fidchell board, there were no people, there were only killers and victims.
Weren’t they all victims, really?
Davey’s eyes held Elise’s, a moment of shared understanding. They’d still been teenagers when they met, living on their own for the first time, going out with friends and goofing off and talking about their dreams late into the night. How could either of them have known, then, that this was how their friendship was to end?
Davey didn’t want to fight Elise, and he had to believe that she didn’t want to fight him either. But here they stood.
The moment passed, and in an instant everything shifted.
This was it. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. Bottom of the ninth. Bases loaded. And fiery as Elise was, as far as she’d gotten herself in this game, Davey had to believe he could take her. This game was his to lose—and he’d always performed well under pressure.
He let her make the first move just as he’d anticipated she would, Elise lunging at him with her knife and Davey grabbing at her wrist with his free hand, stopping the blow and sweeping his bat at her legs, knocking her to the ground. But she was as quick as he was, rolling out of the way of his next blow and using her own leg to mimic his first move and knock him to the ground as well. Before he could get to his feet she was on top of him, her knife plunging toward his neck.
It was all he could do to lift his right arm to block her. He hissed in pain as the blade sliced deep through skin and muscle, his fingers reflexively dropping his bat. First blood. This was the point in training where the fight would stop, with Davey declared the loser. But this wasn’t training.
Adrenaline kicked in and Davey’s left hand shot out to wrap around Elise’s wrist. She was surprisingly strong, Davey had to give her that—but he was stronger. He twisted until she let out a cry and dropped the knife, then he forced her off of him. Davey turned over, blood spilling hot and heavy from the cut on his arm. They both scrambled for the knife that had skittered a few feet away from them, a mess of arms and legs and shoving and scratching until finally his fingers connected with the knife’s hilt and he twisted to strike at her without thinking.
The blade plunged into her side too easily and he scrambled backwards, reaching toward his bat until he realized she hadn’t moved. No —she’d crumpled to the ground, a hand clutching at her side as blood gushed from the wound he’d just inflicted.
No.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast.
All at once the guilt he’s been waiting for all day swelled up inside him and brought him to his knees beside her. “Elise.” Her name left his lips a broken whisper, the varied cheers and murmurs and cries of despair from the audience lost to him as he pulled his friend into his arms.
This wasn’t what he wanted.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, frantic eyes searching hers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I—”
“Davey,” a frail hand reached for his and he squeezed as tightly as he dared, afraid of making this moment any more painful for her than it had to be. “Stop freaking out.” A strangled noise that was more a sob than a laugh bubbled out of his throat and he managed a small nod, his free hand smoothing her hair gently. “I’m not mad,” she whispered, sounding farther away now and he had to blink back the tears pooling in his eyes so he could give her a watery smile. It didn’t matter that she forgave him, though there were no words to express how touched he was that this was how she was spending her last few breaths. “Just… promise you won’t forget me.”
This time Davey couldn’t stop the tears spilling down his cheeks. “I promise, Elise. Never.” Even as she spoke the words he was struck by the weight of his lie, by the weight of the wish he’d just killed her to make. But she’d been his friend before all of this; she wouldn’t be forgotten, even if this moment would be. “I promise,” he whispered again, mustering up another smile because if his was the last face she saw, he wanted to be smiling for her. “You did so good, ‘Lise, ya damn firecracker.”
She smiled back, opened her mouth to speak—and then she was gone, her body limp in his arms as a final breath escaped her. Davey didn’t hold back his sob this time. He pulled her close and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered one more time.
And then he looked up, aware of the crowd for the first time since the fighting began. It was over. He’d won. And Bette was still gone, forever asleep in the ground beneath his feet, with nine new bodies to join hers.
His eyes found Forest’s first, a new understanding of what his Overseer carried with him. “Thank you,” he mouthed to his coach, before he scanned the crowd for Kaitlin, right up front and sporting his Yankees cap. It was hard to meet her eyes now, with the weight of what he’d done and the weight of what he was about to wish freshly on his shoulders, but he forced himself to give her a small, sad smile. “Come find me,” he mouthed to her. Only then did he lay Elise gently on the ground and pull himself to his feet to face the King.
THE CURADMÍR
Often disputed violently, just as in An Fidchell, the Curadmír or Champion's Portion was an ancient custom referred to in early Irish literature, whereby the warrior acknowledged as the bravest present at a feast was given precedence and awarded the choicest cut of meat. And so Davey walks off of the fidchell board and toward his King, knowing it is his right to ask for a wish, knowing the deep cost, and knowing that it would be granted.
Knowing it isn’t the one he’d started with.
With pain in his eyes and an exhaustion that went into the dark crevasse of his soul, a newly cleaved section only just discovered drenched in blood, Davey waits for the King to arrive. After Davey’s win, a few things happen: Queen Lacha’s face changes, only for a moment, before becoming recomposed. King Adare leaves the royal box, but Rowan does too—heading to take Gale to the Unseelie hallway on the command of the Queen. King Adare is radiant and nearly glowing as he descends to Davey on the fidchell board.
He raises Davey’s hand into the air in a winning stance he has seen humans performing, declaring, “Behold! The 2018 An Fidchell Champion!” as the entire arena gives him a standing ovation. Even those Unseelie who hated to lose, they understand the ferocity of the battle and offer him a modicum of respect. “Davey Ventura, what is your wish?” the King asks, his Stave out for all to see, ready to perform a rare magic that even he could not do alone.
“I wish to be free, and to forget everything about the fey and Fidchell. And if ya could get me back on the Yankees too, that'd be real awesome,” he replied, dead eyes earnest. Some laughter moves through the arena.
The King laughs, too, and replies, “Only one wish, but I imagine you can get back onto the Yankees yourself,” gesturing to the bat that was Davey’s trademark weapon in this event. Adare closes his eyes and seeks the seams of Tara, touching them with the Stave, and willing that Danu would grant him this as he and others had been granted the ability to do before: the art of the wish.
And so, just as the bodies are beginning to be covered with their jeweled shrouds and moved underground, through the hollow tree and down the stone stairway and across a river to Hybrasil and its fields of poppies—just as this is happening, so is Davey’s mind being wiped, all traces and memories of the fey and their lore and their world—anything that could remind him or lead him back—is utterly removed. For the expanse of the year he’s lost, false, foggy memories are placed, memories of grieving over the loss of his sister. The King opens a portal and pushes Davey into Manhattan, free of them.
And that’s when all hell breaks loose in the arena.
It felt like everything that was going on was her fault, it wasn’t, but that’s what it felt like to Isabella. She’d been trying to get herself untied but was completely failing until Joe walked in to the room and managed to get her free. She didn’t understand why Joe was there and at the moment she didn’t care, at the moment all that she cared about was finding Antonia and Thomas so that they could try to find a way to put an end to this.
“We have to talk.” She said when she finally came across Antonia. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy, but she had no choice.
