Winter Festivals

Another festival? Just how many did this infernal country have? Did anyone running Fiore actually do any serious work, or did they just encourage every spot of land wide enough for a humanoid to stand on to have some sort of celebration every time something as mundane as the changing of a season happened? As usual, Birch's eyes, the color of rain-laden clouds, narrowed in irritation at Nadaline. Furthermore, did this guild ever do anything other than go to these festivals? Other than Hostia, he'd yet to see or hear of much else other than a couple members getting Rune Knight attention. Some anarchist guild this was turning out to be. How could he take over this country to war with his old one if no one ever did anything?

The servant also made another strange request, which peeved him further. Now he was being told how to dress? However, he wouldn't outright refuse, instead opting for a moody huff as he went back to his blank-covered novel. There were a few long moments where he heavily considered not showing up. Maybe he'd put his foot down. But then again...it might serve him in the long run to continued to comply. He'd kept it up this long, it would be masochistic to throw all his hard work away at this point. All those other festivals and the torturous effort to get through them would not be in vain.

Despite his extra sour mood, he closed his book and hid it away, then went to his armoire to search for something that could be deemed "casual" and something he hadn't worn around the castle lately. So, no butler suit, which was fine. He was moving away from that. No three-piece suit...no dress shirt and slacks? He was digging deep into it now, the top part of his body no longer visible. In the back of his mind he remembered an outfit he'd had to blend into a certain situation, though he hadn't seen it in a while...

Nadaline's hopes and wishes were answered as the tall blond appeared at the arranged place. In the end Birch complied with both the invite and the clothing suggestion. His lean muscled form had a gray, long-sleeved shirt clinging to the dips and curves rippling under his flesh that was normally covered in several layers. Its wide v-neck distanced it even further from his normally stiff style of dress, but not as much as the fitted black jeans that disappeared into shiny ankle boots. Whether from his guild mark or from his species, Birch wasn't affected in the least by the cold. A quick scan of the ice rink didn't yield anyone in a frilly dress, so at first he missed Saraphina and her servant altogether. The celestial phoenix did fancy a bit of ice skating, so he rented some bladed boots and changed his footwear, joining the crowd on the ice with an elegant amount of skill.

The man skated with his hands in his pockets for about a half a lap when he saw the familiar two. It was obvious from behind that they were dressed out of the norm as well, so that must have been why he got the strange instructions. Might as well join them. Dashing forward, he rounded and came to face them...and was greeted with a shock. Birch had already been known to observe and sometimes compliment her wardrobe, even being so bold as to make some suggestions. And while he did prefer black and has said so, his mind had never gone this way. Her outfit was so different... his eyes dropped slowly over it, the usual grouchiness completely and utterly evaporating off his face. If anything, his face softened in the most un-Birch way. The short white shirt, the jacket...the ripped, tight jeans. They accentuated every curve, and the flesh of her supple thighs peeked through the holes, catch his eye in a peculiar way. Despite himself, Birch swallowed hard, eyes lingering at her legs for a bit longer than what was normal as his brows crept slowly upward. It didn't make sense, this was nothing like the style he normally liked...but he did like it. A lot. More than was ok. It baffled him, his reaction. After a few moments, he cleared his throat and tried to compose himself, though his mind was whirling and trying to decode what it was about this strange, modern, unmodest outfit that struck the chord so hard. Try to recover. He wasn't some common animal so swayed by carnal desires. Perhaps once such things would have moved him, but that had been entirely destroyed to the point that he thought that part of him was dead...until now. "Alright, so I'm here. What do you have planned, Saraphina?"


[798/1500]

Birch opened his mouth to protest that it was his idea to come, let alone bring her, but he didn't end up saying anything of the sort. Maybe this would work out to his benefit in the end. His thoughts turned self serving as always, twisiting it to see how it could one day aid him in his quest for power and status here in Fiore. Small beginnings. So, for now, he'd let it slide and play along, though he did see a new side of Nadaline. The servant was capable of being more cunning than he'd considered before. What motive did she have for setting this meet up? Just to please the Queen, or something else?

Now she was complimenting him. It seemed due to some sort of wintery magic miracle they both had a fondness for the other's current outfits, both of which were far cries from their normal attire. "Thank you," he reluctantly rumbled, still watching her and her legs as she skated backward and around within his sight. Birch actually felt a little uncomfortable for once, though if it showed, it was only barely perceptible. Despite that, the blond had to admit that the lack of layers and the low maintenance-ness of it was an attractive quality. Royalty never had a choice to wear casual clothing, soldiers were dictated their uniforms strictly, and his forced butler position had been much like the military as well. Honestly...he'd never been allowed decide what he wanted to put on his body. It wasn't often that the war torn man considered freedoms, but this was one of those times now. Of course, if he chose to wear things like this more often, it would be of his own compulsion, not because Nadaline and Saraphina encouraged him...

When her attention abruptly changed from skating to snowmen, it jarred the tall man out of his thoughts. Turbulent hues turned to examine where she'd looked, and sure enough it seemed that snowmen were in their future. Heaving a small sigh, he nodded in resigned agreement and skated out of the rink to turn in his rentals. Whilst he was finishing up putting on his shoes, Nadaline held him back from joining his unlikely date for the evening to tell him she was leaving her with him. His brows quirked up slightly. This was a shock. Nadaline was almost always glued to her queen's side and from experience he knew how Saraphina got when she was alone. His vest knew it too...the snot stains had not been pleasant to get out. "Wait, Nadaline- No-"

It was too late. The matchmaker had departed. Frowning a bit, he turned and started walking toward the white-haired woman. Despite himself, he rushed there so she wouldn't start to panic, drawing near just as she started to shift her eyes to him. "It seems you've been left in my care for the rest of the festivities, Saraphina," he told her somewhat stiffly. Not one to bask in any awkwardness, he promptly started gathering the snow to make the round, segemented body for her to decorate.


[1314/1500 - 1/5 tokens (Ice skating)]

Birch followed the queen over to the snowball war once their join project had been completed, a little more interested in this game than the others. He may not have enjoyed the war he'd fought in, but once he was a soldier it wasn't something he could turn off. The guns and grenades reminded him a little of training exercises, though their weaponry hadn't been nearly as high tech back then. Still, explosives were explosives and guns were guns. He stayed quiet as a mouse the whole time, even when the guys spoke up to Saraphina. He knew full well she could handle herself. They were lucky they were still alive. If only they knew who they were talking to.

Once it started and his guild master went off to buff up their snowy creation and guard their area, Birch went more on the offensive. He refracted the light around himself, essentially making himself invisible to the naked eye. If one was hypervigilant enough they might notice the careful, calculated footsteps he left in the snow, but the snowball war was so chaotic that no one did. Systematically he infiltrated the dens some of them made, descending in a hail of snow bullets and kicking them out into the open where the average magical snowman could get them. The men that had heckled Saraphina got special treatment that may or may not have seen them lose consciousness and become buried under a snowy mound.

Despite the fact that Birch seemed to avoid fun at all costs, it was clear he was enjoying himself. Once he'd done about as much non-lethal damage as he could to their enemies, he darted around Sara's ice walls to catch his breath. The blond man was invigorated, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips even though his eyes were sharp and devious. Peeking around, his devious pleasure was only increased by seeing their snowman wreaking havoc. "Hmm, it seems our snow child is the best of the group," he commented, whipping back into safety just as a snowball pellet whizzed past where his face had been. Before he could peek again and make a new attack strategy, the sounds on the field changed. No longer were there playful screams and groans. It was an instant change, octaves rising and volume amplifying in terror and pain. Lifting a slender pale brow, he sat his snowball gun down. Something had changed. Now that he paid attention, he could sense some magical presences running around the warzone that didn't belong to the generally harmless snowmen or their spiky boy. One was actually just about to round the side of where he and Saraphina were!

Birch leaned over the Tight-Ripped-Pants Queen and outstretched an arm, altering the gravitational pull of his hand enough to pull the enemy right into it. It was a lanky humanoid creature made of solid ice. Wonderful. With a dark smirk, he started to siphon its ice magic right out of it, and given its nature, that should kill it while also giving Birch a nice magic boost. The unnatural light that glowed within the creature started to fade as it frantically flailed, weakly jabbing an ice spike into his arm. He didn't care even as it piercing him and drew blood, for with little effort he melted it and the now lifeless elemental into nothing more than puddles.

"There are elemental monsters here, just like the other festivals," Birch informed Saraphina as he leaned back, still lingering close to her. Closer than normal. His blood was pumping from exhilaration, breaking him out of his usual behaviors a bit into something wilder. "Are you ready?" his deep voice rumbled. The unknown prince paused only a moment for her answer, then darted out into the open to join in the fray.

He was almost disappointed in the beginning. There were little hordes of scorpions, but blasts of dark energy blasted them away or he'd crush them under the weight of immense spacial pressure. They were so small that even though they popped up in groups of ten, they squished just like any other bug. He fed off of another ice elemental that had the nerve to rip his shirt, then blasted the third one with an unrestrained wave of fire. Meanwhile, their snow brute thrashed on, to the point that he wasn't sure whose side it was on anymore. He'd worry about it later, though, because soon enough the true threat showed itself. A Yeti dashed on the scene with surprising speed for its vastness, and the blood-lusting Birch was simply itching to tear it apart.

That would prove to be much harder than he thought. Forgetting that he was no longer the warrior he once was, he found himself being smacked around by the strong monster. Between his dark energy shredding his sleeves to give him purply black claws of chaotic celestial energy and the beast thoroughly thrashing him every time he got close, his shirt was no more. A large scar situated across his chest was revealed, as well as some new wounds. Energy swirled around him and protected him from some damage, but blood also seeped down his skin and into the disturbed white below. Though he'd not ask for it, he knew that until he reclaimed his former glory, he'd require help with enemies that would have once been weaklings to him. It pissed him off, but this was his new reality still.


[wc: 913 || 1500/1500 event wc met - 727 extra wc. || New Group WC: 1641
6/5 tokens earned (Ice skating, snowman building, snow war) 10/10 ice scorpion defeated, 3/3 ice elementals defeated]