#event: midsummer

[lobelianathair]

location: midsummer party

time: evening

status: closed to @tourmalinecrown​

It felt strange, this reveling amidst the death and chaos that seemed to have been the last few months. Granted, if every time someone’s blood was spilled a gathering was cancelled, there’d scarce be any gatherings at all. Death and the fae had always been close bedfellows. The only difference now was that death had become an enemy rather than a friend. Don’t mistake her, Nathair understood the importance of such an event. Even during the nastiest of wars, it was important to observe certain longheld traditions. Without some semblance of hope for tomorrow, blood and chaos could swiftly turn to hysteria and madness. As much as she detested these soirees, she knew their merit. That still didn’t mean she had to particularly enjoy them though.... 

She was doing exactly what she shouldn’t be doing at a time like this given her position in the court- sitting alone in the corner, nursing a pint of ale as if it’d done something to offend her. She should be out in the crowd, getting a feel for everyone’s mood, observing who was there- and more importantly who wasn’t. If he was here, he’d certainly make her do so, she thought to herself before quickly shaking the notion from her head. She hated that her thoughts always went to him during gatherings like these, when his presence once served as a security blanket from the overwhelming nature of a crowded affair. 

It is in that moment, perhaps serendipitously, that her gaze fell on the familiar shock of dark hair. He hadn’t seen her, or at least she hadn’t thought so, and if she was smart she would have left it at that. Instead she chose to use an old trick of her’s whenever she needed his attention discreetly. Turning her attention towards a nearby blackthorn bush, she whispers something in Gaelic under her breath. Moments later a bright red ladybird beetle crawls out from the dark recesses of leaves, and rests itself atop her index finger. After another quiet mumble of words quickly lost to the breeze, the beetle is off, zooming left and right through the crowd and towards its intended destination atop the old mentor’s hand. As she watches carefully a feeling of unease churns in her stomach. It was risky trying to meet with so many eyes about, but it was a risk she was willing to take for just a brief moment of familiarity in a life that’d grown so unfamiliar as of late. 

[lobelianathair]

location: midsummer party

time: nightfall 

status: closed to @maehvc​

As the festivities continued into the night, Nathair tried her best to stay within her own little corner. It was far from out of character for a fae that considered four a crowd- and anything over twenty a circus in a sardine can. Normally though she would at least try to make her presence some what more impressionable, and if this event were Unseelie only, she’d very likely try to strike up a conversation other than with those already in her inner circle. The thing was though, this was far from an Unseelie exclusive event. A fact that many within her court sneered at, but for Nathair it proved an additional challenge. While half of the party goers may have been part of her newfound court, the other half belonged to the one she’d abandoned in the dead of night. 

Her very presence served as a living reminder to the betrayal she’d made only two midsummers prior. A fact many sought to remind her of through various scorn filled glares throughout the night. She refused to take the bait though, especially as the wine continued to flow freely. No good would come out of fighting in the middle of the party her queen was hosting, especially when the real enemy loomed elsewhere. 

For most of the evening Nathair had managed to keep herself clear of her former allies, there was only so long though she could keep herself hidden. She was on her way back from retrieving her next pint of ale, when her shoulder accidentally collided with that of another in the thick crowd. Muttering several curses under her breath, she shakes the spilled amber liquid from her hand before turning towards whoever she saw responsible for the offense. She was seconds away from giving them an earful when her gaze fell on that of a familiar ghost. 

“Maeve”, she breathes. Startled more by the unexpected appearance of the girl, than the girl herself, Nathair squares her shoulders, reminding herself of who and where she was. “You should pay better attention to your surroundings, you're not in Brin’s court where he can bail you out of whatever scuffle you find yourself in.” 

[sabrina-christiansen]

Trust the Institute to throw a surprise her way just when things had settled. The seer should have trusted her powers. Whenever her life went this well, something was bound to go wrong. Now she had to guess where her brother was hiding in the sea of masks. Even if she nudged into a mind or two for a hint, it would be going against everything she believed in. A person’s thoughts were their own. Their head should be a private sanctuary. She couldn’t allow yet another Christiansen to rattle her like this. She needed a drink.

As if summoned, her knight in tight pants appeared with something sparkling violet for her. “Thanks.” She took the drink, draining most of it in a single swallow before pasting a smile on her face. Keith was finally back from New York. The summer had started. This was one of the fancy balls she’d only dreamed of attending. She should be happy. She should at least be able to pretend to be happy. If only she wasn’t such a horrid liar. 

@keith-crane​

[lobelianathair]

location: midsummer party

time: evening

status: closed to @fae-aoife​

The night had so far gone off without a hitch, but that didn’t settle the restlessness Nathair had felt growing inside them. Instead of drinking or smoking themself into distraction again, they decide to put better use to their time and walk the party’s perimeter instead. They cursed themself for not doing it sooner as they retreated further outwards into the neighboring wood. This was an Unseelie hosted party after all, should something happen they’d be the one to blame. 

Fortunately enough the thicket of trees are as quiet as they should be, the only other inhabitants being a few bullfrogs, and the occasional couple stealing a few moments for themselves, away from the watchful eye of other party goers. If Nathair had known better they’d have thought all was still right with the world- or at least as right as it could be. 

They’re on their second lap when they see a flash of white blonde hair ahead, and almost immediately recognize it to be that of one of their own. “Don’t tell me you’re out here shagging in the muck too,” they greet, “by this rate we’ll have the local wildlife so traumatized they’ll never come back again.” 

[lobelianathair]

location: midsummer party

time: evening

status: closed to @iona-fallon​

It’s nearing the halfway point of the evening, and Nathair has managed to find themself a quiet spot under a nearby oak tree. The loud hum of the party has turned into a soft murmur from their spot, and the sun is just beginning to fall under the hilltop that still burns brightly with a fire of its own. They’re thankful the party has so far gone by without any large interruption, yet they can’t shake the unease that’d began to settle in their bones. The scene laid out before them, of Seelie and Unseelie alike gathering together as one, rang all too familiar to that of a few weeks prior. As much as they knew their people needed this reprieve, they couldn’t help but think they were too premature in gathering again. 

Wishing to wash their mind of dead changlings, and spilled blood, Nathair pulls out their pipe from within their coat pocket. Moments later they exhale. As the smoke uncurls in the growing moonlight,  they distract themself by creating small creatures out of the tobacco smoke. It was a cheap parlor trick if ever there was one, something they’d use in pubs if they were in need of someone to buy a drink for them. This time though, they did it simply for the distraction. With an arch of their brow, the smoke twists and churns into the shape of a galloping stallion. Raring itself back, it neighs silently before barreling around the pebbles and toadstools in its path. After jumping over a small twig it vanishes in a plume of vapor as it comes into contact the toe of someone’s shoe. 

“I’m not taking requests if that’s what you’re after,” they sigh, pushing back the small spike of fear that arose in them the moment they realized they weren’t alone. “Unless you’re offering payment anyway.” 

[iona-fallon]

date: june 21 time: late evening  location: on the fringes  (closed @africosullivan)

The bodies pushing a pulling around them was rapidly becoming far too much for Iona, the constant touch of strangers against their arms and back was overwhelming. Leave the dancing to Maeve, Brin, and their ilk––let them have the attention, in this moment Iona was done with it. An empty glass of cherry wine was dangling from their finger tips, the glass stained a light red with the dried sugary excess of the drink. It was one glass of far too many that night, leaving Iona’s cheeks warm and their mind a little bit tipsy. Indulging in alcohol was not a habit Iona had formed, but parties like this lended themselves to indulgence.

This far from the fire, Iona was surrounded by dancing shadows instead of people. It was comfortable in a way the throngs of people never would be, though it seems that Iona wasn’t as alone as they thought. Long blond hair and bright eyes moved somewhere in their periphery. They had seen her before–– perhaps in passing––but had yet to formally meet her. This made Iona’s need to speak to her all the greater, and in a choice that only could be made drunk, Iona moved towards the individual. Without caring, and with the secure knowledge that they wont be the one picking it up, they dropped the glass into the grass.

With slow and measured steps Iona made their was closer to the individual, a purposefully soft grin sliding across their face, “And here I thought I was alone out here, but I wont lie and say this isn’t a pleasant surprise.”