faefeasts: the midwinter gala - IC

What bargain would I have to strike with you should I want a dance around a bonfire?

As [...] interesting as that was, I'm glad to be back to something to our usual selves. Wouldn't you agree?

I do hope everyone's had adequate time to explore the poetry of their new bodies? I'd be quite happy to aid any 'ladies' who have yet to experience the exquisite beauty of their new forms.

It would seem as though my lord King has bestowed upon us a new intrigue. I wonder, is it truly so fretful to be what you desire not to be?

[What was once was a baritone voice comes to the bitter cold, as a rather husky feminine voice.]

I'm rather curious, I have seen what has happened to me... I'd love to see what the King has chosen for you.

[A scorched parchment reaches to the Sun lord, words have been scratched along the coarse groves and mounds of the dying paper.]

It has been too long since I've been graced by your Sun's presence. My flames haven't been quite as alive as before. Tell me, are you still chasing after that bitter cold? Will you be able to melt her, or will she destroy your glow?

I do believe that we have to meet up again. I despise being told what to do and yet the Sun is trying to forbid me from even coming near you. I wish to be my own man who makes his own decisions and not have any thrust upon him. What do you say, Dear Winter?

Did you enjoy yourself at the masquerade?

How stands our wager, snowflake?

[His writing is striking and bold, the letters like slashes on the page. There is a hurried quality to his writing. He must have something to do.]

Tell me, my children, did you enjoy my masquerade? My Queen and I found you indescribably amusing.

Tell me you're having an entertaining time thus far. I'm... I believe I've made a mistake.

It's perhaps a sign of bad form that I haven't officially started taking bets on the course of the evening. It's must easier to make these predictions when not at home, I'd say.

Anyone in on such? I'll still wager a carafe of the best mead one can find that there won't be a single deflowered mortal in...this side of midnight. That might be a tad too generous.

I'm looking for a human man who is fair of face and dark of hair. He is unkempt, with ragged clothes I will replace and the shadow of a beard along a strong jaw. If he didn't slouch, he would be quite tall. He holds himself tense, always ready to flee, and I imagine he perpetually goes about wearing a mistrustful expression on his face. Have any of you seen him?

[Written Wisp: Unseelie Courtiers]

Is it time to leave yet?

[voice wisp to Winter]
I'll be distraught if you avoid me for another feast, snowflake. Promise me a dance around the bonfire.

[text wisp to Phaedros]
How many human hearts are you planning on breaking? In the figurative sense since the literal one isn't allowed this time.

[text wisp to Aoife]
Brightness, you going to dance around a bonfire with me?

[text wisp to Ranvir and Fiach]
This feast. I'm definitely going to get her this feast. If I don't, I'll go mad and throw myself on the Queen's spear. Remember: you two are supposed to convince her I'm great. Subtly. [...] And since none of us are subtle enough for Winter, let's just drink to my inevitable failure.

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