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undergrounds2016-09-16 08:27 pm
undergroundmods) wrote in undergrounds2016-09-16 08:27 pm
Entry tags:
The Exiled
It's the night of the traditional Harvest Festival, when witches from all over the city celebrate the summer harvest and the coming of autumn. But tonight, as the sun sets and the full moon rises, a darker ceremony is underway.
Five witches step out from a wagon cage – a sort of portable prison. Their wrists are bound and each one is wearing a silver choker around their necks. Escorted by two armed Guardians, they emerge from the shadows into the light of the waiting bonfire. In another time, they might have been burned at the stake, but not tonight.
Tonight Sylvia Redbright is waiting by the fire, wand in hand, to banish these witches from the city of London. A silent crowd stands before her. It is this crowd that Sylvia addresses first, her voice strong and clear.
"May the harvest moon be our witness tonight. These five witches have been found guilty of treason. They have made their bed with monsters and murderers, endangered innocent people, and betrayed their own kind. They represent a group of witches who neither share our values nor respect our laws. For that reason, we cast them out."
One by one, the prisoners step forward and hold out their bound wrists. With her wand, Sylvia burns a mark into the back of each prisoner's hand, a stylised 'x'. She declares each prisoner outcast by name, followed by the crowd repeating her words. Abigail is the last to step up.
The mark burns into her skin as Sylvia delivers the damning verdict. "Abigail Widdowson, we cast you out."
The crowd echoes her: "We cast you out."
The brand on each outcast's skin is a magical signature; it will scar but it will not fade. It tells everyone who sees it that this witch has been exiled. As the five prisoners are escorted back into the wagon cage, as they disappear behind the fire and into the shadows, Sylvia thanks the crowd before her for staying to witness justice being done. Finally, she wishes everyone a good night.
The ceremony is done and Circle Midnight will not be seen practising openly in London again.
Notes
The Harvest Festival takes place in Elthorne Park, Hanwell on the evening of 16th September. There is an anti-vampire barrier around the entire park which will last until the full moon sets. It means that no vampire can enter the park unless explicitly invited in by Sylvia herself, which in practice means that Natasha is the only one who will gain entry. There is heavy security around the area, with Guardians monitoring the prisoners and the park exits, and combat-ready witches who will put a stop to any trouble. They know that after the ceremony is the most likely time for an escape attempt, which is why the prisoners are wearing Magic Collars that prevent them from using magic, and why they will each be taken away in different vehicles that will escort them out of the city. Anyone hanging around near the park exits will be swiftly moved on before the prisoners leave the park.
See this month's plotting post for OOC planning/discussion!
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Which is only about half the truth, but Natasha can probably fill in the rest anyway.
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She wonders, as she says that, how close she is to losing another friend because the circumstances revealed that she was hard—cold when it came to politics. Her history was what it was. Her skills were what they were.
Can't blame him if he judges.
But she hopes it won't come to that.
"Maybe we can chat about it a little more over dinner. After this blows over, and we've both had the chance to get some sleep."
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"Better not let me pick the place, I might take you to a froyo shop again."
Which is not exactly dinner, just a sugary dessert or snake. It isn't a no, though, and he does appreciate that she's trying -- even if he isn't entirely sure how to approach that. Natasha is on the outreach team, but the way Sylvia has used the outreach team is this is not... exactly in line with what he imagined their job was.
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"I'll see what I can find—maybe something French?"
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"I'm sure Lily can forgive you just the once," he allows, "French is good. I'm easy on food, honestly."
Not allergic to anything, nor particularly against any type. He isn't picky, anything works.
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"I'll send a doggy bag home for her." She gives him a half-hearted smile as she says it.
For the time being though. "Do you need a hand?"
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"Well, we'll need to be searching everyone who comes to watch. If you're up for a little frisking I can send you the handsome ones."
... Which. He then inwardly hopes she realises is a joke. Hopefully the Night Council HR department won't be writing him a letter tomorrow.
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She figures the joking is a good sign.
They're both trying to deal with a situation they don't like.
"Thanks for looking out for me."
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He lofts an eyebrow playfully, gestures finally around to another entrance.
"I have Faolan down by the south entrance. Help the others check anyone coming through the north gate, if you don't mind? I'd say let us know if there's any trouble, but I don't doubt we'd hear if before you had a chance."
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