Brynhild Ingouf (![]() ![]() @ 2019-08-17 22:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, brynhild, dan torrance, john constantine |
Who: Bryn
Where: The main room of Bad Things
What: Court
When: August 17th( to the station) night, early morning August 18th
Rating: High because there is likely to be death.
Open: Yes! And to subthreads for the spectators.
Status: on going
Bryn and Aibhlinn had spent the whole of the day getting ready for court. The throne was moved onto the stage, and made to look like something that would have been found in the Viking's longhouse. It was made of ancient oak, and piled with furs of hunted animals, the skins were also very old. On each side sat a chair, one decorated in a celtic design and the other was made out of wood that was almost black, but was otherwise plain. Pits had been opened up in the floor, and bonfires built, each one with a protective spell that would keep the fire from being coaxed by any of the leaders coming to attend. And there were buttons not far away from a hands touch to turn on the overhead sprinkler system should they need it. The bar was moved out of the middle of the room, pushed up against the far wall. A walk way lined with furs, like those that covered the throne, went up the center of the room and on either side of it sat rows of wooden benches. In the upper floors more comfortable seating could be found, modern couches, and chairs, all lined up close to the railing so the spectacle could be easily seen. Bryn looked every bit the like the shieldmaiden she died as. Leather chest piece, likely the one she had died in because it was decorated in Norse runes, and had holes in the left side -likely made from many arrows, was over a long chainmail cuirass. Simple tanned hide trousers were beneath. Sword belt was slung across her hips, and leather boots covered her feet. Her hair was pulled up into intricate braids that she would have worn close to twelve hundred years ago. The only makeup she bore was a solid black stripe across her eyes and nose, and red lipstick. Her shield, battered but well taken care of, strapped onto her forearm. Her thrall was dressed like a celtic warrior, though the young human couldn't have seen actual battle in that time period. Her armor was rough furrs, and the make up she wore was done in bright blue slashes across her face, as if a creature had clawed into her. Her hair was done in intricate braids that formed celtic knots. They were ready to do battle. The arena was set. |