[OPEN] The Redsworn Reception

[guerriera]

Who: The Redsworn of Ruby Sanctum + Guests [OPEN TO ALL FLIGHTS]
What: Carolina The Redsworn have invited everyone to dinner! Let's see how well diplomatic relations between the flights can be improved, eh?
Where: The Ruby Sanctum
When: Forward dated to 6th June.
Warnings: Fires, food poisoning cooking for all, shenanigans, possible bad language.
OOC: Come gets some cross-flight CR! c: Some setting options below the cut, or go ahead and make your own.


A: COOKING FIRE SHENANIGANS

Feeling peckish? Have a delivery to make? Or just want to try your own hand at serving up some grub? The Redsworn's usual cooking area has been expanded for the evening, with two extra firepits dug out to cater for additional mouths. Over one fire burns the now "traditional" starter meat of bear flank, something any newly sworn (red or otherwise) will have the pleasure of sampling first. There's also several baskets of berries, fruit and vegetables, while a pot obtained in trade from Silverglen bubbles merrily.

B: FIRESIDE MINGLE

The redsworn of the Ruby Sanctum have claimed a corner of their own beneath one of the larger trees. There's a smaller fire here set for warmth and ambience, and have logs set about for seating for those who don't like perching on rocks or roots, or don't find the comfy grass comfy - park yourself and have a chat!

C: OPEN/MISC.

Choose Your Own Adventure! Just remember: wander alone at your own risk, non-redsworn, for the Red Dragonflight will have their eye on you.

Comments

[hyanaimne]

[her lips quirk, wry and almost self-deprecating, to match her tone]

I got my revenge, if that is what you mean. [she glances down and idly tugs at a thread on the sleeve of her tunic] But I have not found the other person I was looking for. Not yet. It is surprisingly hard to locate someone with a very unique and peculiar sort of magic.

[faultline]

And you won't find them here.

[ obviously. riven feels a little dumb, saying it out loud like that, and goes quiet. she stares into the fire, leaning forward to rest on her knees. eventually, she continues with: ] At least you have found something.

[hyanaimne]

Mm, I did. [she fiddles with the edge of her sleeve for a moment, before she shrugs] War, war, and more war. I suppose it is something.

[she's joking, even if it's a dumb joke]

[faultline]

[ she recognizes it for the joke it is, but maybe her sense of humor is failing of her, what little of it there is. riven snorts, shoulders hunching up and going stiff. ]

I think... I'm beginning to get sick of war. [ she pauses after saying it, as if her own words surprise her. she shifts her chin into a hand, pointedly looking away from tempest; that was a confession too honest for the enemy. ]

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest watches her for a moment, almost curious, before she hums her agreement. Her sleeve is suddenly the most fascinating thing she's ever seen]

I can understand that sentiment.

[faultline]

[ at least the awkwardness is mutual. alas, it's also enough to force riven out of her seat, though the rustle and clink of her armor as she rises is nearly silent despite its weight. she pauses there, standing in front of the fire, and steals a glance back towards tempest. ]

My apologies... I never caught your name. [ not that either of them had asked, but nevermind that. ]

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest is pretty impressed, that it was someone else fleeing the conversation before her. Usually she was the one to leave, or hide, or both sometimes]

Ah - it's Tempest. And yours?

[faultline]

Riven. [ a beat, and: ] Blacksworn.

[ even if tempest hadn't offered it up herself, and even if her appearance tended to give it away more than not, riven can't help but state it for the record. let there be no secrets here, not in this place of... theoretical mutual cooperation. (doesn't roll off the tongue like she'd hoped.) ]

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest really could care less about the flights themselves, or what rumors may come from them. And she supposed it worked in her favor, if they were all supposed to work together.

So, she holds out a hand to shake] I am of Bluesworn. well met, Riven.

[faultline]

[ ... a hand. riven hesitates, but then accepts it; not everyone in azeroth is the master, probably. ]

Well met. [ and with that, she turns and hurries away, fleeing the gathering altogether. ]