chef_chocobro | The Far Less Creepy and Far From Abandoned Mansion in the Woods; Friday Afternoon/Evening [06/27].

When the guests arrived, they would, of course, be instructed to find their way to the garden conservatory; the subtle decorations both inside the mansion and through the exterior gardens would guide most people to there, and, barring that, the steward was naturally on hand to provide and escort. There, they would find a scene that seemed almost a stark contrast to the dark and brooding decor of a necromancer, a place filled with light and life, with plants both decorative and functional, colorful and aromatic and useful, and, of course, no lack of the expected gothic or Victorian touches here and there. Somewhere, some cleverly situated water fixture babbled steadily along with the light, inobtrusive music that set the atmosphere: something elevated just slightly above casual, that slight touch of pretentiousness that was gentle in its demands for propriety and decorum and class. Comfortable chaises and chairs were arranged here and there sociably, a gathering a wrought-iron bistro tables and chairs as well, but the set-up seemed to suggest the kind of floating interactions of butterflies among flowers, drifting from one to the next with an airy regard.

And, of course, the spread of food was exceptional, lighter fair, but plenty of it, things that could be enjoyed while fluttering about with the other guests in one hand, while the other held a glass of fine wine or sparkling water garnished with fresh fruits or even a robust coffee or a floral cup of tea. Small sandwiches and crostini, bruschetta and other variations, but there were also empanadas with a chimichurri sauce, paella with scallops, pomegranate pork kebabs...

Spring rolls, summer rolls, smoked salmon cucumber rolls...

And of course, desserts, which would include alfajores dulce de leche, coffee truffles, fruit crostini, and key lime mini pies.

Needless to say, no one should be wanting for food. Just be careful not to fill up on treats too much if you plan to stay on later; there was still plenty of dancing to be had, once the party moved itself to the awaiting ballroom.

[[ ~~naturally, ocd incoming~~ ocd is up! Come and celebrate with us! ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The way Watts's expression grew more and more unimpressed as Liliana's explanation went on probably gave away how he felt about that system.

"That sounds. Ridiculous."

"I didn't even tell you about how the government worked," Liliana sighed.

"And how," Watts let out a sigh of his own. "Is that?" Because he was curious even as he knew he'd probably dislike the answer.

"So, remember, Torsten named all seven of his lieutenants as his successors, giving each of the seven clans a different division of the government. Army, navy, treasury, and so on." Liliana sighed, heavily. "But because, I assume he didn't want any one clan to grow more powerful than the others, those divisions rotate. Every lunar year, they shift around to the next clan in a seven year looping cycle."

"That's-" Watts sighed again. "So in addition to one's career being assigned to them regardless of whether they have any skill for it or not, they have to contend with that career changing several times throughout their lifetime?" he checked.

"Their career changing every year," Liliana corrected. "So if you're a fine military general, just think! You'll be able to get back to that in seven years."

"That is patently ridiculous," Watts shook his head. "This von Ursus sounds like an imbecile for coming up with such a system."

To say nothing of how everyone just went along with it.

One day, Liliana would learn that Benalia had had an opportunity to change that stupid fucking system, and chose not to, because they couldn't think of anything better. And on that day, Watts would be able to hear her shriek of incredulous rage all the way in Midnight.

"He named the country Benalia because it means, mmm...aspiration." Liliana translated. "And his aspiration for this country he was building from the scraps of an Empire that reached too far and fell because of it, was to rule the world. The man was an absolute git."

"Why did it even matter to him how people did things after he was dead?" Watts wondered. "Unless he had resurrection plans, I suppose?" Since that was apparently a thing in her world- er, plane. Planes.

"I think it was just a control thing," Liliana said with a silky shrug. "Benalia was his, so he should be able to control it from death as well."

"Well, I suppose- your society did manage to survive- all that," Watts said, somewhat grudgingly.

"One hopes they still are," Liliana said. "I haven't been back since my spark ignited when I was a girl. Well. Young woman."

"Your 'spark'?" Watts echoed.

"It's what makes a Planeswalker a Planeswalker," Liliana said. "A mote of the Blind Eternities themselves, stitched into our souls. They are exceedingly rare; whole generations across an entire plane can live and die without a single child being born with a spark. And of those few who do have a spark, only a fraction of them 'ignite'. Those that do suddenly find themselves on a whole different plane with more power than they've ever felt before thrumming through their veins. Before, we were even more than that. We were ageless and immortal, able to create new realities and populate whole worlds with plants and animals and people."

Gods, basically. Some literally, not in that they were any more divine, simply that many Planeswalkers had created worlds upon worlds of people to worship them.

"Now, though, most Planeswalkers are simply powerful mortal mages that can walk through the space between realities - that's what the Blind Eternities are - with a couple of handy tricks up our various sleeves to help us blend in with the population better, aging and dying like any other mortal."

And some of them said, 'No thanks,' and sold their souls to demons about it.

The Far Less Creepy and Far From Abandoned Mansion in the Woods; Friday Afternoon/Evening [06/27].

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