The Mother of Witches retires tonight

[undergroundmods]

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Today is a big day for the witch community. On 4th December, Sylvia Redbright turns 60 and her reign as Mother of Witches officially comes to an end. To celebrate this momentous occasion, Sylvia is hosting a retirement party at the Redbright Institute. The school will be open to all friendly guests who wish to celebrate with Circle Daybreak or hear about Sylvia's many achievements as Mother of Witches. There will also be a more private gathering during the event for Sylvia's closest friends and allies.

The party takes place from 7pm-12 midnight Sunday 4th December.

Rules of entry
• No weapons. Any weapons or objects that could be used as weapons will be confiscated.
• No drugs or alcohol except that provided at the event. Don't try to sneak any in.
• No violence.

There is security within the school and present during the event. (In fact, if your character is a member of the Redbright Institute, you could have them acting as security if you want.) They will respond to and put a stop to any trouble.

Places to go
The main location open for the public is the large Assembly Hall where a live band plays folk music throughout the evening. There are waiters serving champagne and canapés or if you prefer you can go straight to the buffet table yourself. At 8pm, there will be a series of speeches by various high-ranking witches singing Sylvia's praises before Sylvia herself will step up to be presented with a large bouquet of flowers and gifts from the witch community. Her thanks will of course be gracious. After 9pm, there will be a show of magic from some of the most promising young witches in London. It's a music and dance performance that features a dazzling display of colour, light and fire plus other spectacular tricks including levitation, illusory rain and lightning and finally a giant ash tree that grows in the middle of the room to represent the Mother's protection. (None of it is real, of course. It's essentially magical special effects.) In the last two hours of the night, the witches will invite everyone to let loose and dance around the tree. It's probably a good idea to be quite drunk by this point.

If you'd prefer to go somewhere a little quieter, two of the lecture halls are open, each featuring a different video playing on a loop. The first video is a potted history of the tradition of the Mother, Maiden and Crone, describing how they are chosen and what purpose they each serve in the witch community, with a particular focus on Sylvia becoming the Mother. (It does not feature or mention Abigail Widdowson.) In the second lecture hall there is a video telling the story of Sylvia's many achievements as Mother of Witches over the past thirty years, including her efforts to bring peace in London, to unite the witch communities across the UK and to foster a culture of magic that helps rather than hurts people.

Elsewhere, the dining hall is closed to the public because from 9pm there is a private party hosted here consisting of a three-course meal followed by drinks. This is where Sylvia and her closest allies will be for most of the night. Entry is restricted to a select guest list.

Sylvia will reappear in the reception area from just after 11pm to say goodbye to the guests and give her final blessings as Mother of Witches. After today, there will be a transition period until the new Mother is selected, but this will be the last time she hosts any kind of official event in her capacity as Mother of Witches.

[OOC: If you are a high-ranking ally or potential ally of Sylvia's (level 4 or above), you may be invited to her private party! Please check with me if you're not sure. Otherwise, there are opportunities to catch Sylvia and other NPCs during the event. Or just enjoy the free champagne, it's up to you.]

Comments

[brightwitch]

Sylvia is in the assembly hall drinking champagne between 7-8pm. She's in demand and always surrounded by people, but available to talk to if you wish to approach her.

Between 8 and 9pm she'll be listening to the speeches in praise of herself and accepting her flowers and gifts. From 9-11pm she'll disappear into the dining hall for a celebratory dinner with a few select guests.

Finally, from 11pm she'll be in the reception area giving her blessings to the witches as they leave the party. She can be approached at this point if you'd like to congratulate her or say your goodbyes.

(Alternatively, if you'd like to talk to any other NPC on the Elite list, drop me a line! They're pretty much all here.)

reception

[stauncherhearted]

It was a stupid idea for Nancy to go. She knew that. But she had to. For Abby, for all of Midnight. So Sylvia would remain on the Night Council, yes. But at least one of her positions was being revoked. So she'd always acted on behalf of Redbright, when she'd moved against Midnight. But Nancy firmly believed it was a cover. Civil War never helped anyone. But even so, Sylvia had wiped Midnight off the map. Just when Nancy had been beginning to find herself at home at long last.

Still, she'd gone to the party. She'd drank and eaten, and you'd be wrong if you didn't think her purse was chock full of food to bring over to the boys' before she returned back to Cooper. And now, she was on her way out.

She should have just walked out the door. Called some sort of truce when Sylvia had helped grant her a pardon. But she kept remembering how the woman had looked when she'd tried to shame her.

So she took the middle ground. When she approached her, she said nothing. She extended a hand, so that she knew she'd been there. But as for words, she opted to let Sylvia make the next move.

[brightwitch]

Sylvia recognised the young witch, of course. Nancy's name and face was well-known to her from the trial. Tonight was the first time that Sylvia had seen her since then in fact, and so she gave Nancy a warm welcome, smiling as the girl approached and clasping her hands around the one that Nancy extended.

"Nancy, it's lovely to see you! I've been wondering how you've been getting on, how are you? You look well."

She had given Nancy a fresh start and she hoped that the girl was making good use of it. It would be one of her last acts of kindness as Mother of Witches, she thought, though hopefully not as President.

[stauncherhearted]

That was completely unexpected, truthfully, and it takes Nancy a moment to process it at all. She was being... warm. It's the first time there's actually been what wants to think of as genuine warmth from the woman aimed towards her. Everything else had been cool and calculated.

But she echoes the smile, her eyes unfocused, looking at their hands for a moment.

"I never thought you'd think it lovely to see me," she admits, looking up at the older woman. They both knew their history. "But I'm good. Real good." She didn't have to hide for one. "Living with my boyfriend, he's been wonderful." Business had picked up, vampires were less-likely to drain her dry for fun. She had a place to actually practice that was safe.

But if Sylvia wants to take credit for all of that, she's not going to stop her. Nancy still had a role to play here.

reception area

[baisant]

Jean-Claude has done his due diligence of making an appearance and schmoozing his way through the crowd as he should, being the newest faction leader in the city. It is an evening to celebrate Sylvia Redbright and her career as the Mother of Witches, but this does not signal her retirement from politics themselves, he is certain. She is still the President of the Night Council, for the moment at least. And therefore he has business with her. What better an opportunity to catch a word with her than here after all, out of office and as far as he's aware, unaware of the reason he should want to talk to her.

"Madame," Jean-Claude greets her in approach, with a smile and a bow that would look odd from another person but is surprisingly natural coming from someone as old as him. Someone who lived in a time when such gestures were the norm.

[brightwitch]

So here is the newly crowned leader of the Islington Nest. Sylvia had wondered if he would make good on his intentions to overthrow Raymond, and by all accounts it was a bloody affair. As they have all learned from experience, it is no good to overthrow one tyrant and replace them with another, so she has taken a wait-and-see approach to find out whether Jean-Claude's leadership style matches his impeccable manners. So far, the signs are promising.

She'll smile back at him, then, and take this opportunity to hear firsthand about what has been going on. "Jean-Claude. I hear you've had a busy month."

[baisant]

Jean-Claude smiles amicably in return to the comment and inclines his head at her in turn. "I have," he replies in turn. "It is not easy, rebuilding. From where we were. From what he had left us with. But it is not the first time we have had to do so." Nor will it be the last, he is sure. But he's hoping that whenever the nest next passes hands, it will be under more peaceable circumstances.

"If I am to have anywhere near a successful career as you have yourself, madame, then I will consider myself accomplished," he continues. He is leading into his politics, but it is good to start with niceties. This is her retirement party, after all.

Dining Hall! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[longterm]

It took a bit of tinkering but Cesare has managed to slide himself into a spot at Sylvia Redbright's dinner table. This is the table where alliances and friendships are formed, where negotiations are made over wine and cooked meats. It was paramount to Cesare that he made the guest list. He didn't quite manage to get the much sought after seat next to the guest of honor, Sylvia herself. Instead, he was stuck between two witches that he found incredibly dull. But he continues his polite conversation and waits until the end of the meal, while everyone is sipping coffee and dessert liqueurs. That's when he slips into the seat next to Sylvia, with a small smile, holding his drink in hand.

"Ms. Redbright. Cesare Borgia, Marquess of Islington. I believe we met in '64, at Fraser's bash."

[brightwitch]

"Ah," says Sylvia, perhaps a little more relaxed and merry than she had been at the start of this dinner. The entire event has been nothing but praise for her, though she's trying not to let that go to her head as well. She doesn't know Cesare but he wouldn't have been invited if he wasn't a person of some importance. "I was only a child at the time, you'll have to forgive me if I don't remember."

...Borgia. Hang on. The name clicks in her head and she stares at him for a moment, caught between disbelief and amusement.

"Wait, did you say Cesare Borgia? As in, Machiavelli's Prince?"

Jesus Christ. Well, not quite that impressive, but still. Surely not.

[longterm]

Oh. Ok. So she knows more about him than he thought. Perhaps too much. The Prince had been a double edged sword for him, one that applauded his political ingenuity but also his flexible morals. While he objects to very little in The Prince, he seen others in the past who have. He thought, now that enough years had passed, that he was past this. It seems not. He hopes it doesn't shoot him in the foot.

"Not for a long time," he replies with a smile. "A lot has changed since then."

Assembly Hall

[emotioneater]

Cooper approaches, looking relatively decent, if a little bit rough in a leather jacket. At least there are no holes in his jeans or sleeves cut off of his shirt. He actually looks like a serious member of the Nest. He's had nothing to drink and only a little to eat. After all, tonight is about business.

"Congratulations on sixty years, Ms Redbright," Cooper says, turning on the easy sort of charm he usually reserves for when he's in the company of a pretty girl.

[brightwitch]

He looks like one of her students who accidentally wandered into the party to Sylvia. She squints a little as he approaches, sure that she's met him before. But not in class. Somewhere else...

She inclines her head in acknowledgement. "Thank you."

dining hall, ish!

[knightscode]

Lancelot has been a police officer long enough to know how to keep a careful, discretionary eye on someone without being constantly underfoot. As a result, he keeps himself always a few paces away from her (which, at his speed, is still a good distance) and tries to keep a a track on her movements without being overt. He's dressed about as formally as he can manage, a dark grey suit and lighter grey shirt (with the top button undone, because it makes him feel itchy) -- blue tie a little loose but still done up. He looks tidy enough to pass, and he's largely had little to do in an official capacity beyond carefully and discreetly moving on a couple of drunk Redbright students who crossed the line into irritating and disruptive.

Sylvia may be celebrating retirement, but Lancelot knows well enough that this is only retirement from one of her many roles within the community. She has plenty of disgruntled people who would happily make sure she retires from every position she holds permanently.

When it's about time to move on Lancelot weaves his way through the crowd to her and lowers his voice to inform her of the time, begins to subtly make a path for her through to the dining room so she can escape. The dining hall itself is much quieter, and as he holds open the door he offers her a lopsided smile.

"I'd ask if you think you'll miss this," he says softly, letting someone else take the door once she's through, "but I suppose you'll just be attending the same events with one less title now."

She'll still be Chancellor of Redbright, after all, and President of the Night Council. He imagines those are enough to encompass most of the things you can be invited to for being important.

[brightwitch]

"It'll save time when they announce my name," she jokes, glancing back over her shoulder as she walks through into the dining hall. "I might even have to find a hobby."

Of course he's right. Somehow she doesn't think she's going to find herself sitting around with nothing to do just because she's no longer Mother of Witches. She has plenty of other work and honestly she's glad of it. Sylvia isn't the type to sit back and relax. She's used to wielding power and the responsibility that comes with it.

The head of the table is saved for Sylvia and so she makes her way over to it. The other guests are beginning to trickle in too.

"Here," she says, patting the seat next to her. It seems only fitting for Lancelot to be her right hand man.

Assembly hall (OTA options!)

[excrucior]

CLOSED to Cesare Borgia (7:00 pm - 9:00 pm)

It's not difficult finding Cesare Borgia in London. The name of the establishment makes it rather obvious. (The Angelo? Really?)

What is difficult, however, is approaching his former employer when there is talk of a party going on that night. A retirement party, so he overhears in whispers around London, for Circle Daybreak's Mother of Witches. Cesare's never had a good track record with witches in general, but from everything Micheletto observes in passing, Cesare is still adamant on going. And Micheletto knows better than anyone to dissuade Cesare Borgia from something he's set his mind to.

And so, arriving a few minutes late to the party, dressed in his nicest button-down and slacks, Micheletto makes his way to the Redbright Institute to attend the public ceremony. He gets in without a hassle, having for once not brought a weapon, and stays inconspicuous up until he spots the man himself. The assassin stands right in Cesare's line of sight, several meters away over the shoulder of Cesare's current schmoozing target, and makes sure that he makes clear eye contact with him. He turns and slips quietly through the crowd, then, moving toward the lecture halls.

After more than five hundred years, they have much to discuss.

OPEN (9:00 pm - 12:00 am)

It's always awkward when you show up to someone else's party - especially if you're new in town. But Micheletto has always succeeded in being a wallflower, so he mostly sticks to the walls in the assembly hall, particularly when people begin to dance. He does, however, take some champagne as it's passed around, so at least he seems to be having a decent time.

Though he never approaches anyone to talk, and he refuses to dance, he doesn't mind a bit of chatter from other party guests - provided they keep the chatter light and fitting to the atmosphere, for now.

But the lecture halls are much more his speed. Occasionally throughout the night, he'll disappear to one of these, and can be found avidly watching both videos. He appears to be studying it, for some reason, but after he's seen it once or twice through he'll be more open to polite banter.

[longterm]

Cesare doesn't quite trust his own eyes at first. He has had this before, thought he had seen Micheletto in a crowd only to realize that he was mistaken. That had happened many times during the first century of Micheletto's absence. Now, though, Cesare has trained himself to think little of similar faces. But this is different and it catches him off guard. He can barely continue his conversation with the woman he was talking to, instead excusing himself and stalking the man through the crowd.

When he finally catches up to Micheletto, he pauses for a moment, his breathing heavy, looking, checking that it's actually him. Suddenly he grabs at Micheletto's shoulders, pushing him into the wall, his voice growling.

"Centuries. Fucking centuries. What the fuck have you been doing?"

Cesare is pleased to see Micheletto, yes. But also furious that it took so damn long.

[excrucior]

Micheletto pauses just outside the furthest lecture hall, not having to wait long for Cesare to reach him. While he had expected some potential ire, he is a little surprised when the man grasps his shoulders and pushes him into the wall. It was a vague mockery of the day they met, all those ages ago, but Micheletto suppresses the urge to counter and take Cesare by surprise.

"A great many things," Micheletto replies, his blue eyes studying Cesare, "but little of consequence until late." He doesn't want to get into detail about anything until he's sure, absolutely sure, there is no one listening. He shifts uncomfortably for a moment under the hands, but otherwise does not seem concerned about the dangerous rumble to Cesare's voice. "Now that you have me here, do you wish me gone? Or would you permit me the kindness of speaking to each other like the civilized bastards we are?"

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy has no idea who the hell Micheletto is. Too bad it doesn't go both ways- if he's paid attention to any of Cesare's letters, he'll be all too aware just who the tiny ginger is.

When Nancy comes to sit in one of the lecture halls, she's got a full glass of wine in one hand (hardly her first), and a large plate of food in the other. While she's lucky enough now never to have to worry about where her food is going to come from, she's quick to snatch up any free food she can, maybe even bring some over to the boys' on her way home. They needed to eat better than the shit Fagin fed them, and it fell to her, more often than not.

She slides into a seat just a few down from Micheletto, before settling into what's going to be her dinner. A bit of magic levitates the glass so she doesn't have to hold on to it when she doesn't want to. She's intent to focus on her food when she hears a line from the video, about the Maiden. She can't help herself, she scoffs out-loud and mutters: "sure, easy to say when you've got the Maiden barred from London." Before returning to her food.

Yeah, she's not Sylvia's #1 fan.

[excrucior]

He has an inkling of who this woman might be, but until he hears her name, it is best not to assume that this is the Nancy which Cesare spoke of in his letters - perhaps more than should ever be said in public.

Once Nancy speaks, however, Micheletto seems more interested in paying attention to her than to the video. Without staring at her too long, he turns his gaze back to the video. He leans over a few seats, however, and asks quietly, "But a circle is incomplete without the Maiden, is it not? How has madam Redbright managed without?"

He can smell juicy political gossip - an old habit, working for Cesare in the middle of a pit of vipers all those years ago. It doesn't help that he's already familiar with witches and their politics, anyway, from his time with his mother.

Assembly Hall

[constantprisoner]

It's safe to say that Sirius doesn't really know what he's doing here or why he really showed up. It's just where his feet happened to take him, and he's still trying to figure out why. He's always tried to avoid politics, and figures it's best if he keep a low profile, pardon or not. And he has no great love for Sylvia, but here he is.

He supposes if he needs to he could bullshit a reason. He's a representative for the Hillingdon Clan, he's just being polite, he's here for the free food. Those all counted, right? Speaking of the free food, he'll grab some before going to hug the wall, or maybe wander into one of the lecture halls.

Whatever he does, he probably won't stay too late.

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy recognizes him, but only vaguely. She'd seen him at the Night's Pardon, another person seeking redemption via Night Council. Usually, she'd walk past him, but he's alone, and so is she.

"You should try the shrimp," she says by way of making conversation, glass in her hand.

[constantprisoner]

There's a hint of recognition in Sirius's eyes as well, and he nods in acknowledgement of that.

"The shrimp, huh? Have to grab it on my next round...I think I ran out of room."

And indeed, his plate is rather stacked.

Assembly Hall -- OTA

[reticence]

As a Guardian of the Night Council, it's Faolan's job to look out for the members of the Night Council itself. Which means that even though this is not technically an event related to the Council, he finds himself lingering about the edges of the room, keeping an eye on the attendees and making certain that if any conflicts between them arise that they are dealt with without incident.

Of course, he is hanging about the edge of the room for another reason as well. That namely being the live band, merrily plucking away on their instruments at the other side of the room. He has a duty to be there, to keep an eye on the crowd, and to keep the peace. That duty is probably the only thing keeping him from stepping out into the hall to catch a breath of fresh air and a few moment's quiet away from the music itself.

Being the Head of Hillingdon, he supposes that he's almost working something of a duel duty here, as people come by to speak to him in his capacity as Hillingdon leader as well as Night Council Guardian. Perhaps it's for the best that he's on duty and not allowed a glass of the champagne that keeps passing by. He can only imagine what sort of a scene he might start in a gathering like this otherwise.

[knightscode]

Lancelot is dressed smartly for the occasion, here he supposes in two roles himself -- as a member of Daybreak and as a Guardian. He's dressed in various shades of grey with a loose blue tie, although said looseness is less a fashion statement and more his own dislike of the itchy formality of having his shirt buttoned all the way up. He stops beside Faolan, facing away from him a little to watch the crowd even as he talks.

"I think you'd be allowed at least one glass of champagne," Lancelot says softly, having observed his eyes tracking each tray as it goes past, "I'm just not sure it's wise. Although if there is going to be dancing I might need one myself to cope."

[reticence]

Faolan turns to risk a glance aside at the other man as he speaks. He can't really explain why he's so on edge, at such a gathering. Not without having to explain a lot more than he'd really like. It's certainly not a conversation for a crowded room like this, not when the pair of them are supposed to be on duty as well.

"If I let myself have one, would you stop me from having another after that?" he asks. He turns to regard the other man closely for a moment. Faolan himself has dressed up some. There wasn't the requirement for black tie or anything like that, and as such he's really only got a blazer on over his tshirt and jeans, but it makes him look somewhat smarter. Not as smart as Lancelot though. He gives him an appraising look before turning back towards the crowd. He risks leaning in closer to comment, "You look nice."