Impromptu Coronation

Wherein a meeting of Amber's ruling elite (Princes, Dukes and Royal Appointees) turns into a brouhaha and then a coronation.

You walk towards the south.
[ Music Parlor ]--------[ Royal Palace ]
In the center of this modest-sized, sunlit room a late century
harpsichord rests in the center of starburst loomed upon a rich,
chocolate carpet. Surrounding the pearl-inlayed instrument is a small
host of chairs and two couches, each simple in line but composed of a
complex inlay of wood and mother-of-pearl. Bench seats with fluffy,
forest green cushions rest beneath the bank of windows in the south.
The sand colored walls are covered in hand-painted, stylized birds. In
the evening, the velvet green curtains are drawn and the crystal
chandelier above lit with over a thousand candles. Here and there on
the wall, covered candle lamps perched upon brass fixtures.

A single door, opening to a hallway, is the only entrance and exit.
Addison, Carolyne, Connor, Corwin, Emrys, Erasmus, Flora, Martin,
Random, and Rose are here.
------------[ Exits: N ]

Erasmus slips into the room, looking tired, and takes a habitually guard-like position off to the side. He returns Connor's nod with a brief smile.

Corwin comes in, looking tired and distracted. He manages a few idle nods and smiles.

Emrys has slipped in a few minutes previous and found himself a corner to hold up.

Carolyne is sitting on one of the benches by the south windows. She stands when the Regent enters.

Martin is quiet and standing somewhere near Random.

Random shows up a little late, and hurriedly. The gleaming brass arrow on his codpiece spins around the wheel of fortune with little metallic pinging sounds.

Connor's hand comes up in a salute to the regent - respectful, but not particularly crisp or military.

GAME: Flora changed the setting to: At present, the musical instruments have been pushed off to one side and draped with white tarps. Additional chairs have been brought in as well as a small self-serve bar with wine, brandy, and cognac.

Rose helps herself to a glass of cognac.

Isabelle comes in, not looking tired, in fact, her expression is no less full of verve as it is a half, dianalike smile.

A valet opens the door for Gerard, who sails in some moments later. Or, at least, his codpiece does. The man himself follows after.

Caine seems to follow Gerard, though has come from some other direction that does not involve codpieces. He's rather dressed down, actually, and moves to a seat apart, though by no means in the background.

Corwin clears his throat, moving to a place more or less in the center-front of the room.

Dylan nods politely to the assembled and quietly finds a space beside friends.

Rose nods politely to Caine and then to Dylan as she moves toward a chair.

Caine flashes Rose a conspiring grin, soured as he turns his attention to Corwin.

Corwin says, "Thanks to you all for coming. I've got a lot to tell you and it's all important. You are all likely to have a lot to think about and say about it all. But I'm going to ask that you hold your thoughts and comments to the end. First let's dispense of the easiest of the orders of business. The shadowpaths that serve us are crumbling. We are going to deal with it. I am creating a task force. A Prince or Duke will be at its head, but we will also need a capable administrator to see to day-to-day matters. I invite suggestions, and volunteers, to come forth after this meeting.""

Brand wanders in, and subsequently wanders to the back of the room.

Vialle walks in, but shortly steps aside, hand on a nearby wall.

Corwin says, "Okay, moving right along along. As you know, I brought with me on my return to Amber the news that Father was still alive. This was true, and may yet be still, but it's not all of the truth."
Corwin says, "When Oberon and I spoke, he — in no uncertain terms — directed me to take the throne. It has been under this authority that I have acted, and those who have criticized my actions to date have criticized also his Royal Will." He continues to speak, quickly but not too quickly, and voice clear despite his tired appearance. "I have followed his directions as best I am able, though it has not been easy or without cost. Cost to me, for sure, but also to others. And I have done as he asked of me, except that I have not go far enough. I did not immediately take the Crown he had given me, because it was clear on my return that Amber was too dangerously splintered. Because many simply did not — and would not — believe the simple truth of the matter, and others still would not care about the truth of it, because it was inconsistent with their own ambitions."

Corwin says, "And if truth be told, there is one more reason. Part of me hoped that Oberon would save us all a lot of trouble and come back, and deal with the things that beset us."
Corwin says, "Unfortunately for us all, he has not come back, and things continue to get worse. So, a week ago, I decided to make one last-ditch effort to find him. I walked the Pattern and asked it to send me to that place where Oberon was, when last we spoke. Gerard and Random were in trump contact with me, and were going to come through, along with several others, to help me out. Best laid plans and all that. I blacked out on the far side, and when I came to, trumps weren't working. Meanwhile, Gerard, Random and company got jumped by the Black Road. Anyway, I'll let them talk about that part later, but meanwhile, I am going to tell you what I found. It's going to take a while, because there's a lot going on we don't understand, and we need to get to the bottom of it all."

Julian comes here from the direction of the Entrance Hall - Royal Palace.

Corwin begins to describe, matter-of-factly, what he encountered.

NOTE: As shorthand, a link to this log was given:'.

Julian's tardiness seems to trouble him not in the least, but he makes no great display of his entrance.

Random shifts in his seat as Corwin talks. He glances towards the door, rises quietly, goes over to Vialle, and guides her to a chair. His expression is impassive.

Vialle, purely by accident, discovers the Wheel of Fortune Codpiece almost instantly by almost running into it. Normally she's not the sort of woman to frown but she's frowning now.

Julian exchanges a few words with Gerard about something below waist level. Corwin's words seem of secondary interest to him until the halfway point. Julian is nothing but focused attention after that.

Caine listens with the slightly sour smile on his face, an expression which does not change with the additional details.

Carolyne stands by the southern windows, listening, face impassive. Her hands are folded before her abdomen.

Corwin concludes his tale by saying, "So, that's that, and I'm going to ask you all to think on it. If you know _anything_ that might help us figure out who it is we are fighting and how we can fight them, we need your help. Our situation reminds me of a quote, which is namely, 'We must all hang together, or we will assuredly hang separately.' Though here, instead of hanging, we're more likely to wind up stacked in parts in some gruesome display of Order. This is not a time to sit on secrets, however valuable they may be. Spend them now because in a few years, months or even weeks, they might be worth squat. Prince Dylan is the coordinator of Amber's investigations into the arcane forces assaulting us, so please seek him out. Anonymous tips are discouraged but accepted; stock tips are appreciated."

Connor looks like he's hearing something way, way over his paygrade.

Corwin smiles, and pauses for breath, and to survey the assembled group.

Dylan clears his throat and steps forward just enough that when his name is mentioned, people might recognize that he is the Dylan in question. He steps back, once that's done.

Corwin says, "And so with that, we return to the matter of business I alluded to earlier. It is now apparent to me that I can no longer delay in doing as Oberon has ordered me to do. In the coming days, I will assume Amber's Throne. This will come as little suprise to most of you, good news to some, and no doubt terrible news to a few. That said, no matter how you feel about it, I will expect you all, as loyal subjects of Amber, to support Kingdom and King."

Julian scratches his thumbnail on the stubble on his chin, and remarks "Horseshit."

From somewhere near Isabelle is a loud, "Woof!"

Caine's little smile blooms into full, and he glances back to Julian.

Random shifts his gaze to Julian. "Yes, I can smell it too. Scrape your boots the next time, huh?"

Rose rolls her eyes and takes a sip of cognac.

Corwin jabs a thumb at Julian and says, with a smile, "See?" He shrugs and says, easily, "As when I assumed the Regency, I will again pledge myself to Her, to give her my all in order to guide her through these times of turmoil, and to bring her back to days of halcyon and glory. And that's it. Just a few minor tidbits."

Martin conveniently manages to find an inconspicuous spot.

Julian says, "Are you entirely certain Eric did not, also anoint your brow? Wash your feet? It seems so long as you are willing to misuse his name for this fiction, you should go for the gusto."

Isabelle edges her way toward Dylan.

Caine returns to watching Corwin closely, his smile only a hint now.

Corwin looks to Julian, "I now realize there were traits in Eric I should have admired, but did not. That said, I act in the name of our father."

Emrys crosses his arms over his chest, but says nothing. He just watches Corwin.

Gerard tries to be discreet about undoing his codpiece straps and setting the massive pewter vessel out of view.

Julian says, "Who is also conveniently absent. I imagine that you have managed to find support from Osric and Finndo as well? Cymnea perhaps?"

Corwin ignores Julian, saying, "Does anyone else want to throw barbs? Or would someone instead choose to share information that can save us all from oblivion?"

Caine lifts a boot and thumps it onto a small table before him. The sole is notably lacking in horseshit.

Isabelle murmurs something to Dylan and then says, "Uncle Corwin. I'm not sure what you're looking for really. Is it a mass of small facts that might lead up to something important? Like the shadow paths eroding?"

Rose shrugs and looks around the room. "I've got nothing to add. If there is something I can do to assist…"

Julian turns to the room, "He is looking for fear, since fear drives the need for authority."

Corwin says, "Hope, actually, is what I'm selling."

"And perhaps a few pats on the back to spur him to acting in some way," Caine adds richly. "Momentum that he sorely lacks."

Gerard frowns. "I don't understand. We are fighting the Road, aren't we? I mean, no one's making that up. What would he be lying about." He scratches at his beard, confused.

Corwin turns to Isabelle, then, and says, "I'm asking people to think on what I've said. There's a lot there. Surely there are pieces to the puzzle that we need to gather. It may take time to sift through it all, I realize." And to Gerard, a smile, a nod.

Julian says, "Some of us more than others, Gerard, but that's true enough. But those enemies have not been enough a foundation for ambition. We need new ones, it seems."

Isabelle says, "Yes. And the shadow paths really are eroding."

Gerard's eyes widen. "We have new enemies?" He straightens, as if quite prepared to find them behind a nearby armchair.

Random takes Julian's bait. There's no love lost between them. "And what do you plan to do about it?" he asks challengingly. "I don't give a damn whether or not you believe Dad told Corwin to take the throne. What matters is, the realm needs a King. Are you going to stop him, or is this just grandstanding, huh?"

Julian looks over at Random this time and laughs, "Corwin's dog has more balls than he does. Perhaps _you_ should be on the throne little man? Or is reflected glory enough for you?"

"Let him take it," Caine says loudly, adding a shrug to the mix. "Without other options, he is the bottom of the barrel we scrape." He seems disinclined, however, to interfere with Julian and Random's argument.

Martin is glad he chose an inconspicuous spot, no one will notice him turning slightly pale at Julian's suggestion.

Random does not take this further bait. "You did not answer my question, brother," he says flatly.

Martin forms a cluster with Carolyne.

Corwin watches the exchange, quietly, impassively.

Rose speaks quietly to Addison. Her knuckles whiten as she grips her glass.

Brand clears his throat.

Corwin looks to Brand.

Brand says, "I believe Corwin on the matter of Oberon."

Lucretia enters, looking tired and gravitating towards the back.

Julian snorts, "That is because you have no comprehension of what you ask. To you a king is a hat and a chair. You are content to celebrate while others push papers and drink fruity drinks with decorative umbrellas. That is your place, and I'm glad your happy in it, but you say the realm needs a king?" He shakes his head, and the anger there is tempered by something, "You understand _neither_."

Brand gives Julian a look.

Julian does not return the look and tosses up his hands, "And the artist weighs in. That is almost as good as someone not here at all. Corwin's army grows."

Caine remarks, with infinite patience, "Task force?" in the manner of someone who wishes a meeting to get to it's agenda-bound end, and quickly.

Brand says, "I'm not done yet. But I'll give Julian a moment to wash the sand out of his undergarments if he needs it."

Vialle's head is turned to one side, listening.

Some angry retort is probably on Random's lips, but he defers to Brand.

Caine looks to the ceiling, then to Brand.

Gerard rumbles, "Hey now. Julian might be hitting a bit below the belt." And he gives his brother a look. "But it's not like he's not out there fighting the important fights with the rest of us."

Flora returns from the mini-bar with two glasses of brandy. One is offered to Caine when she passes by him.

Brand says, "Oberon would have said it to any of us. It has nothing to do with Corwin, really. While Amber has no king, the Black Road grows stronger. While the Black Road goes stronger, Oberon can not return. Hence, someone needs to take the throne."

Caine glances to her, a ready frown there, but takes the glass.

Carolyne arches a brow at Caine. Or maybe it was Flora.

Julian laughs and holds up a hand, "Thank you Gerard, but I think Caine has the most valid point of all. There is a task force afoot, and we've great need for a mission statement that we may properly synergies and leverage our assets." He nods to brand, "Let's get this project plan going. We shall consult our enemies back to hell itself!"

Caine smirks at his brother's words, swirling the drink rather than actually drinking it. He looks to Corwin, expectantly and sardonic.

Rose's glass cracks in her hand but does not shatter. Cognac runs onto her wrist and then to the floor. She places the glass on a table.

Flora continues back to her chosen spot, drink in hand. She looks to Corwin, lifts her glass to him, and sips.

Brand takes a step back. It appears he is done.

Addison reaches into his waistcoat and hands Rose a neat white handkerchief to clean up the cognac.

Dylan takes a breath. "With all due respect, your Highness, is your position that organization and strategy have no place in this current conflict?" His expression has a certain element of resignation to it - as if he quite expects to be flayed.

Isabelle reaches, patting Dylan on the shoulder with encouragement.

Corwin, for his part, is smiling as well. He says, "Don't worry, Dylan, Julian is just testing the waters. Perhaps not finding him to his liking."

Caine lifts his voice then, "And is this information you ask for two-way? For those of us who cannot attend the cluster meetings?"

Brand says, "His master has left, and the kennel is cold when the fire is rekindled nightly for him."

Julian says, "I find, young man, that they are poor substitutes for resolve and action." His tone is surprisingly patient, all hints of previous anger or sarcasm gone - he could as easily be explaining matters of archery, "And a good king is surrounded by men capable of committing themselves fully to the petty matters that allow the grand to move forward. It is the nature of things, and there is no shame in such pettiness. But it is not the place of a king."

Caine lifts his glass to Julian, though most of his attention is on Corwin.

Rose says, "Well, as he's still the Regent, perhaps he can be granted a pass."

Dylan, for his part, makes his nod something of a bow. "Yes, your Highness."

Julian bows slightly to Rose, "He is, indeed, well suited to regency."

Corwin looks to Caine and says, "I'm not sure what you mean by that?"

Brand says, "Neither Oberon nor Eric are coming back, Julian. Obviously, you are choosing not to back Corwin, but at least he is presenting a solution. What is yours?"

Random is more blunt. He turns to Julian. "Do you have some alternative in mind? Because if not, Corwin's the man. And you can shove it up."

Addison opens his mouth and then, wisely, closes it again.

Caine clarifies, "I mean that does one have to buy into the fan club to get the kind of information that would be helpful? I cannot see how quarterly group meetings such as this, with vitally important information, will help." He lifts an eyebrow, challengingly, to Corwin.

Julian looks genuinely pained, "Your brother, for all his poncery, would understand this, Brand, and I had hoped you might as well. That Random does not…" he shrugs at the inevitabilities of life, "There are matters better done not at all than done poorly."

Martin remains quiet. He takes a cigarette from a case and sticks it behind his ear to use later.

Corwin says, "Caine, your help is more than welcome. If that's what you are asking."

"It isn't, but I'll find my answers elsewhere, as usual," Caine replies, looking to Julian with an air of finality.

Llewella walks into the room without fanfare. A glance around, and she makes her way towards Flora with a nod to Dylan.

Emrys looks thoughtful as he goes to pour himself a tall glass of cognac.

Isabelle says, "We might man another effort to go down the black road. Past the sentinel."

Dylan offers his mother a respectful nod as she passes, then, brave or foolish, steps forward again. "I agree. It is better to do a thing not at all than to do it poorly." He looks to Corwin for permission.

Corwin nods to Dylan.

"I'm willing to tear Silverspire apart to find an answer if it's there," Emrys says, looking to Corwin. "But I can't do that and repair the Path at the same time."

Flora bends her head to Llewella, murmuring softly and perhaps filling her in.

Brand says, "Has all your time in Arden addled your brain, Julian? Or are you simply choosing to ignore what I said? If we don't put someone on the throne, we may as well tie a nice pink bow around the keys to the kingdom and have them delivered to Dara. Perhaps you'd like to be the messenger? I ask you again. If you do not back Corwin, what is your plan?"

Martin nods to Brand, he seems about to say something but refrains from it.

Dylan breathes. "So, let us do it -grandly-. Let us do it like it has never been done before. We speak, always, of shoring up the legacy of King Oberon's singular reign. And there is no question that he was a man unequalled. But what we have now is a unique opportunity for collaboration. A golden age is -not- outside our grasp. And if it is, then are we not compelled to reach further than we ever have before?"

Isabelle enthusiastically applauds.

Rose looks to Dylan as he speaks and her eyes widen.

Carolyne arches a brow at Dylan now. She's good at that.

Caine gives Dylan a flat look, and keeps it upon him.

Julian says, "Brand, if you're so damn smart that you understand the importance of the king, then you should be smart enough to know what happens if we put a _bureaucrat_ on the throne. Take two minute to think what that suggest regarding the current threat and the state of shadow, then shoot your mouth off." He stops at Dylan's remark and looks at Dylan again. "LLewella's brood, yes?""

Dylan nods. "Yes, your Highness."

Isabelle, who is standing beside Dylan, stops applauding when she sees Caine's flat-look.

Random says staunchly, "Corwin's not a bureaucrat."

Llewella, not to be left out, looks at her son with calm support.

Julian looks over at Llewella and a thin lipped slash of a smile crosses his features as he nods to his sister.

Corwin says, "Emrys, we'll do what we can to free you up to search the Silverspire. And well said, Dylan." He looks to Julian, then Random, and laughs. "Bureaucrat. I've been called many things, but that's a first."

Llewella's mouth quirks to the side in silent reply to Julian. She turns a little to Flora.

Addison has the calm look of someone watching a tennis match and mildly curious why no one is hitting anyone with furniture yet.

Carolyne looks sideways at Martin. Leans slightly away from him, as if to emphasize the look.

Julian shakes his head, "The boy's plan has merit, and the man you were would have been capable of at least shoring up the thrown, but I'll be plain enough for Random to understand. You have grown soft. You are a man of paper and lawyers and sycophants now."

Martin just shrugs at Carolyne.

Caine smiles at that, and lifts his glass once again. Mutely.

Lucretia lightly touches Erasmus' shoulder, then walks to her aunt, bending to murmur something to her.

Llewella steps a space forward. She lifts her brows at Julian, "Help me understand, brother. What are the qualities you seek in a King?"

Julian says, "Strength." He looks at Gerard thoughtfully for a moment.

Gerard's eyes widen. "I was only thinking out loud," he blurts. "I should stop doing that."

Llewella says, "Indeed, it does come in many shapes and vessels. Which sort had you in mind, Julian?"

Caine adds dryly, "Intelligence." He does not look at Gerard.

Julian says, "A king can turn to advisors for wisdom." After a beat, he adds, "Thankfully. But the strength to be loved or hated is a simple enough yardstick. Not to simply be tolerated or compromised upon."

"Seems to me, brother," says Random to Julian, "that the last time we fought, you were the one who was staring at the edge of a cliff with a pistol to his head. You feeling your Wheaties for another go?"

Gerard's expression shifts, neither convivial nor bumbling now. He remains silent for the moment.

Caine snorts, looking to Random. "And now, the trash talk from the hood. Wonderful."

Flora speaks then, her voice quiet and calm, "While you have been guarding Arden, Julian, Corwin has been seeing to the kingdom as a whole. Perhaps if you came out from the trees more often you might better appreciate the forest."

Julian snorts, "I shall not be king, I know that well enough. But Gerard is a better man than I. Caine and Bleys more cunning. Benedict wiser. Even Brand has his strengths. That Corwin is an able administrator I do not question, but that these men, these men of _greatness_ should yield way to such mediocrity? Let him put those talents to use for a better man and a better king.

Brand says, "Everyone. Shut. Up. We aren't going to solve this by talking."

Julian says, "My point precisely."

Caine's nod is almost sharp at Brand. "Aye." He sounds irritated.

Random, typically enough, doesn't obey. "And who do you propose this better man is, Julian?"

Julian says, "Random, you magnificent, malfeasant, misbegotten mistake of a man, will you shut up and think for just a _moment_. Even you should be able to see the board here."

Lucretia briefly looks reluctantly admiring of Julian's alliteration.

Corwin says, "It doesn't really matter, in the end, what Julian proposes. It should be clear that he's just trying to split us up, though to what end I cannot imagine." He looks to Julian, but continues to address the group as large. "He has no answers, and the point is moot. I have not asked Julian's permission to take the throne, nor anyone else's."

Llewella's eyes widen a little bit. She turns her head just a little, to look at Corwin.

Julian, deadly quiet, "It would appear otherwise."

Corwin looks to Julian and says, "I beg your pardon?"

Random glances at Gerard and frowns. One eyebrow might twitch the slightest bit upwards in question.

Julian's tone is absolutely level, "If that were so, you would bear the crown now. You wait, to _appease_. Because you are _afraid_. If you were as bold as your words you would already have the crown. The rest is foul air."

Caine looks up with stead interest at Corwin, with Julian's words.

Addison watches Corwin, looking drawn, with a /now or never/ look in his eyes.

Corwin says, "You bait me, Julian, and I do not know why. But I can tell you why I resist." He pauses, looks around the room, then back to Julian. "What besets Amber, I believe, is a force of vengeance. Vengeance for the way our predecessors ruled. I do not believe that baths of blood are the only way to get things done. I do not believe, either, that your blood need be shed, for me to wear a crown." He says, with total sincerity, "Do not do this, Julian."

Flora and her brandy glass head for the exit, storm clouds brewing in her eyes.

Caine simply says, "Just fucking do it, Corwin."

Llewella steps the other way at the same time as Flora leaves, creating a little space.

Julian sounds sad, "Whose vengeance?"

Rose's follow her mother's course through the room.

Corwin says, "Whoever has the power to hunt our father to the point where he cannot return to Amber. That's our enemy, Julian. Not me. Not you."

Julian says, "That is not what I asked."

Flora slips out.

Corwin says, "That's the whole damned point. Weren't you listening? We. Don't. Know. And if we don't find out, this stupidity that you are trying to pull won't matter one small bit."

Erasmus listens, his mouth a line, until the door opens a tad and a whisper from one of the Hounds outside prompts him to step out silently.

Julian says, "I know only one vengeance that great, and so do you."

Lucretia glances over her shoulder at Erasmus' departure; then looks back at the tableaux.

Random squints at Julian. "What are you talking about?"

Brand stands up on a chair, and says, "Everyone, quiet. NOW."

Caine leans to set his unsipped brandy down, cracking his knuckles and eyeing the door almost longingly as he sits back again.

Brand looks to see that he has everyone's attention, and then speaks. "We all understand someone has to sit on the throne. We all understand it has to be someone strong. I didn't choose Corwin, but Corwin defeated my choice. We need someone with anger. We need someone with fire. We need someone with daring. In the past months I have seen Corwin fight. I have seen him fight Benedict. I have fought him myself. I have hated him, and I have resented him, and I have felt him burn. Witness the chance he took to find Oberon. If anyone feels they have the strength to take the throne and hold it better than him, they should step up and do it NOW. Otherwise, you are just as weak as Julian claims Corwin is. If not, then I am ready to bend to knee to him."

Addison scoots a bit in Brand's direction just in case he needs to take, say, a punch for him. Just in case.

Llewella turns to Corwin, "We require a King with strength - intelligence, balance, who listens to advisors and thanks them as you have had the intelligence and wisdom to do. We require a King with nerve. Will you take the Crown?"

Julian's focus is on Corwin now, seemingly nothing else. "Even the fool sees it, but do you yet? Are your eyes healed enough?"
Random complains, "Just set a date for the damned coronation and let's be done with this."

Isabelle says, "Why not now?"

Martin seems in favor of -now-.

Caine remarks dryly, "Why not indeed."

Corwin nods and says, "Now it will be."

Brand gets down from his chair.

Addison scoots a bit closer toward Brand.

Julian turns and shouts, "One of you bastards bring me the damned crown!"

Llewella murmurs, "Legitimate, and a woman, but it should suit - sister?"

"The public pledges of fealty. The Crown is more than just holding the sceptre," notes Random. "I want to see the lords of the land gathered to bend knee to Corwin." He shrugs. "But hell, now will do for starters."

Flora steps in with the crown on the pillow and the sceptre held like she might beat the living crap out of someone.

Erasmus follows Flora, sword drawn. Sheathing quickly, he shuts the doors and stands there, guarding for egress with a face of proper stone.

Rose looks to the door and her eyes narrow.

Carolyne says, quietly, "The Duchy of Mandrake is present to do so."

Godfrey enters silently, taking a place at the back.

Addison finally speaks up and says, "If you are going to do this now, someone should at least say something that sounds official, your Royal Highnesses."

Julian, for some reason, spares Gerard as small smile, and places himself before Corwin, in Flora's path. "Unless it is your intent to crown yourself. Again."

Corwin watches Flora enter, with the crown and scepter. Then he looks around the room, meeting the eyes of all who meet his, as the reality of the situation strikes home.

Irene sweeps in, a little green about the gills.

Gerard rumbles, "Gotta admit. That had a certain amount of pluck to it."

Martin pushes away from the wall, "Rebma supports Corwin." He says quietly.

Caine glances to the door, and Flora, and smirks, looking back to Corwin and meeting his look.

Lucretia says nothing at all, remaining where she is. She glances back as the door opens, then returns her attention to Julian and Corwin.

Llewella closes her eyes, pained, at Martin.

Corwin looks to Julian, then, perhaps some realization dawning. He pauses, perhaps for any objection to his brother's proposal.

Flora stares at Julian and does not release him from her eyes as she lifts her voice and announces, "Good people of Amber, hear me now. Corwin will be crowned this evening. There will be drinking afterwards." Then her voice slips into a snarl, "Anyone fucking with me gets beat." She offers up the Crown to Julian, perhaps expecting him to do the right thing and bean Corwin over the head with it.

Random grins at Flora, in a rare moment of appreciation for his sister.

Caine stands, perhaps readying to hold Regents down. Or depart for a better party. It's unclear.

Llewella's lips twitch. She watches Corwin steadily.

Irene's smile flares. She folds her hands together, looking entirely pleased.

Godfrey rests his hand on the pommel of his sword.

Addison mostly wants to see if they're actually going to hold Corwin down or if he'll squirm out of their grasp.

Erasmus glances to Godfrey, uncannily, and watches him.

Brand's attention is already wandering.

Addison tries to bring Brand's attention back toward the actual coronation bit and says something quietly.

The crown is a delicate looking thing, all points and gems, but it is tougher than it looks, or so it must be, for Julian roughly closes his hand around one side and holds it, indecorously, blood running from his hand onto the floor. He looks at Corwin, "Do you see it now?"

Flora's knuckles whiten as her grip tightens upon the sceptre.

Random stares at Julian, as if the man's gone mad.

Godfrey's face is without expression. He watches Julian. His hand doesn't move from its resting place against the pommel of his weapon.

Corwin nods to Julian. He reaches out to take the crown from Julian's hands.

Llewella steps up by Flora. She does not fist her hands, but something in her posture suggests that she may as well have done.

Isabelle steps away from Dylan and makes her way toward her mother. Though she is dark haired, when near Flora, she looks more like her than different.

Julian holds up a restraining hand. "Some words are traditional, but I've little patience. Amber is sorely pressed on every side. Good men die every day, and things we don't understand press at our borders. Men will give their blood for this, to the last. So tell me now, who is responsible for this? On whose head does it rest? If we fall, who will those who remember blame?" He balances the crown in hand, eyes still locked on Corwin, looking for something, awaiting the answer, blood rhythmically dripping.

Corwin says with a clear voice, "It will be mine. Corwin."

Julian hands the crown over gravely, dropping to one knee as he does so, "Your Majesty." He might say something else, but it is too low a murmur to carry.

Corwin takes the crown, holding it in both hands for a moment, then quickly places it on his head, saying, "I crown me, Corwin, King of Amber!"

Julian says, "Long live the King!"

Irene sinks to her knees, head bowed.

Lucretia waits for Carolyne, nodding very slightly to her aunt, then moves to follow her example.

Erasmus drops to one knee by the door, echoing, "Long Live the King!"

Rose kneels.

Flora steps up beside Julian and takes a knee, offering the sceptre to Corwin. "Long live the King!"

Emrys draws his sword and puts the point tot he floor, going to one knee behind it with his hands on the hilt. His voice rises with the others in the common chant.

Martin kneels as well.

Dylan bends the knee.

Random draws his blade, and lays it at Corwin's feet. He, too, kneels, and echoes.

Carolyne sinks to one knee. Sometimes, pants are practical for a woman.

Addison glances at Rose and then also kneels.

Godfrey lowers himself to a knee, sweeping back his blade. "Long live the King."

Connor kneels hastily.

Caine lowers to one knee, his expression unreadable.

Isabelle, beside Flora, bends the knee also.

Llewella clasps her hands together, green eyes blazing for once. She takes a deep breath, and sinks to one knee, gown or no gown.

Corwin takes the scepter from Flora, favoring her with a smile, which fades as he looks around the room and watches the others.

George The Dog, when he is the only one standing, will self consciously radar his wily black dog brows from one side of the room to the other and self consciously lay down.

Brand kneels as well, just like he promised to.

Gerard waits till he is the last one left standing, save the newly crowned king (and George). "Don't screw up. No pressure, now." He grins and takes the knee.

Vialle, beside Random, also kneels.

Irene lifts her head, "Feldane wishes to offer an oath of fealty to the King."

Corwin's smile is replaced by solemnity. He nods to Irene and says, "I will take your oath with great pride, Duchess Feldane, but first hear mine. I swear by the Unicorn that I will rule with justice and strength, and do all there is that can be done for Amber."

Julian says, "Hear, hear."

Corwin says, "And now I bid you all rise. There's work to be done."

Carolyne raises her head, then to her feet.

Emrys rises, sheathing his sword. And not even in anyone's stomach.

Martin rises.

Brand pops up like a jack-in-the-box.

Caine rises, a quick clap of hands seeming to emphasize the work bit.

Random rises, picks up his blade, and sheathes it with a rasp.

Flora ever so carefully checks to make sure no one has kneeled upon her gown then rises.

Addison rises, brushes off his trousers and straightens his waistcoat.

Llewella rises without fuss; she looks over towards Dylan.

Rose returns to her chair and sits primly.

Julian raises and slaps his brother, nay, the king on the shoulder with words of encouragement. The blood is a minor oversight.

Lucretia rises to her feet, expression composed. She smoothes her gown down, glancing back towards Erasmus.

Irene finds her feet and brushes out her skirt.

Dylan rises and approaches his mother.

Erasmus stands, his posture proud.

Flora says, "If everyone will excuse me, the kitchen need direction and the cellars need opening for celebration."

Gerard brightens visibly at mention of cellars, though he's grinning quite broadly already.

Corwin says, "Hear hear."

Flora smiles up at Corwin and inclines her head. "Your Majesty," she murmurs, and in a rare show for her, actually backs carefully away until enough distance is achieved for her to turn and walk out.

Caine moves forward toward Corwin, his hands clearly in view for those pessimists and realists.

Addison leaves his current cluster and forms a cluster with Rose instead.
Addison wanders back toward Rose now that the majority of the Drama has ended.

Corwin nods to Julian, an acknowledgment, then looks to Caine's approach.

Julian bows to his majesty and returns to Gerard.

Lucretia flicks her hair back over her shoulders with a shake of her head, then turns to approach Erasmus.

Muttering to Corwin, Caine smiles, showing teeth. "… my help, though… constantly."

Isabelle watches her mother walk out.

Irene walks up to Corwin, waiting a respectful distance.

Corwin mutters to Caine, "… from wherever…"

Caine nods to the King and turns to weave through chairs, departing.

Brand rocks up and down on heels, looking at the crowd around Corwin.

Vialle also rises and stands back. She might be entirely missed.

Corwin looks to Irene and smiles.

Erasmus moves aside from the door, as people begin leaving, and talks low with Lucretia.

Brand murmurs… something strange under his breath.

Irene steps up to Corwin, curtseys rather formally, and keeps her voice low.

Erasmus glances up, gaze roving the room a moment.

Irene mutters to Corwin, "I… you my… although I… need… be said,… conviction."

Corwin listens to Irene, somewhat distractedly. His smile broadens and he says, "Thanks," to her, loudly enough for any nearby to hear.

Brand whispers to no one.

Muttering to Corwin, Irene adds, "… hope… about… Solaris;…"

Corwin nods to Irene, the smile fading.

Godfrey remains quietly at the back.

Julian produces a handkerchief and wraps it around his bleeding hand as he crosses the room. Departing Gerard he remarks, "I'm uncertain that's the word I'd use, but thank you."

Erasmus moves, his hand on his blade, to head for a better position of guard to the King.

Corwin looks away from Irene towards Brand, and gives a him a nod.

Isabelle makes her way toward her sister, Rose.

Irene spreads her hands in silent acknowledgement; she takes three steps back, as formal, and turns aside to allow the next person to wish the King well and offer support.

Julian joins Dylan.

Isabelle joins Rose.

Addison lifts a hand as Isabelle approaches.

Corwin nods again to Brand.

Brand smiles.

Lucretia looks at Erasmus, then turns, looking around with a little frown.

Emrys takes some steps towards Corwin, though does not complete the approach. He waits for some acknowledgement first.

Corwin nods to Emrys.

Brand examines a trump.

Llewella turns slightly, so that the crowned Corwin is in the background. Her brows lift, although Corwin is also about to leave, it seems.

Addison begins to pat down his waistcoat in search of his cigarettes and Begman lighter. His eyes are on Rose and Isabelle.

Brand concentrates upon a Trump, and begins to fade away.

Irene walks across the room to Carolyne and Martin.

Llewella says to the mirror, "murmurs, "Unlikely." She puts away her mirror and turns back to Julian and Dylan."

Irene joins Carolyne.

Isabelle mentions something to Rose and Addison, then makes her way out.

Corwin nods twice to Emrys, and then heads out, after exchanging greetings with anyone else who approaches him.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License