Date: September 10, 1998
Place: Garden - Palladium - Haven
Cast: Andromache, Arahael, Argivus, Cassandra, Cassius, Cepheus, Cynara, Drusus, Eranthe, Ilyane, Kallia, Kalypso, Lilith, Lucian, Lysander, Megeara, Oriane, Pantoleon, Raphael, Siranae, Xanthiel (I)
Scene: The Empyreans have gathered to honor the memory of the former matriarch of House Tritonis, Damaris Iolanthe, as well as to name her successor.

Garden - Palladium - Haven:
      The late afternoon sun casts long shadows through the aesthetic columns which surround this part of the Palladium. The central clearing of the garden is lined by a number of tables, the surface of each covered with moderate amounts of well-prepared food. A number of servants mingle through the odd patchwork of light and dark, carrying a variety of food and drink.
      There is little or no sitting room here, save the benches and fountain's edge which normally provide refuge for the weary. The center part of the garden is clearly meant as a place to gather and talk. The scene is more one of friendly meeting and conversing than one of mourning.

Ilyane, Xanthiel, Eranthe, and Lilith enter the garden from the living quarters situated off to the right.

Cepheus withdraws his arm from Kalypso's. "I have a few things to tend to, go ahead." His tone is mild, and forcibly neutral.

Cassius emerges from the inner courtyard, leading the group representing House Augustus. He is dressed in the typical Aegian finery required for such an occasion, and his head is held high and proud; though his wintry eyes are as cold as ever.

Kalypso sighs softly, and nods, a hand lifting to lightly touch her brother's face. "Everything's okay, Ceph?" Her eyes are wide, crystal-clear as they're focused on his face.

Arahael and Pantoleon enter the garden from the living quarters situated off to the right.

Andromache abruptly loses interest in Cepheus again as the Augustin procession arrives, looking over the newcomers briefly before bowing her head in a polite nod to the crowd in general.

Drusus' eyes flick over the crowd. They come to rest momentarily on Eranthe, then on Cassius, before moving on to continue his scan.

Megeara, Siranae, and Lysander enter the garden from the living quarters situated off to the right.

Oriane's very careful neutrality becomes minutely strained as Andromache steps away. The mask of her face does not change, except perhaps slightly around her eyes. Silently, she turns to look towards the new arrivals, taking in each with her quiet, dark gaze.

Argivus strolls along the path that leads back to the Atrium, the main building of the Palladium.

The Augustin party had just entered the garden, and Cassius and his family are still lingering near the outskirts of the gathering. The patriarch's eyes skim over the crowd, picking out certain individuals. He nods to a few, though there is no warmth in the greeting.

Cepheus looks directly at Kalypso, turning his body some to face her. He mumbles in a low tone to her, "... hard... ... you... making... help ..." Even hearing a portion of his words tells one he is being directly curt with his sister.

Kalypso sighs softly, hurt expression flashing across her face before being carefully covered with a serene mask. "Of course, Ceph." She takes a step away, back towards Andromache and Oriane.

Lysander enters the gardens the last in the Acesius party. He is dressed much as you would see him normally in the Palladium--a simple white chiton and only the sash and medallion of office as the First Aegian. He looks around at the crowds of Empyreans that have gathered, his hands hung at his sides. Not proceeding into the groups quite yet, he lingers near the entrance to the living quarters.

Ilyane smiles warmly over at Xanthiel, then mumbles a few quiet words to him before turning to Lilith and glancing at her with a slightly worried frown.

Pantoleon enters the garden escorting his daughter, Siranae, and accompanying the dignitaries of House Acesius and the Deus Jove. He pauses for a moment to study the assemblage before him, and to be studied in turn.

A little shadow following along in Cassius' wake. Eranthe hangs back just slightly, looking rather wide-eyed. There's a stiffness to her manner, as if she is trying very hard not to fidget. Perhaps she's a bit nervous about the party, afraid she's going to do something to embarrass her house? No, not her. Of course not.

Lilith tries to remain behind Ilyane, not wanting to be seen at this fancy function.

Arahael, Deus Jove, enters with the daughter of Princeps Lysander Acesian, Megeara, on his arm. His garb is simple, elegant, and his expression is eminently pleased.

In contrast to his elder brother, Xanthiel wears little more finery than ever, though what he does is actually on straight for once. His green eyes are by far the warmer, though resting as they do upon Ilyane, it is no surprise.

Siranae looks to not even be concerned with what others think as she stands by her father's side, clad in the finery of her House. Her lips are curved into a polite enough smile though, as she gazes about and nods to those she is acquainted with.

Cepheus closes his eyes as Kalypso leaves him, taking a deep breath as he does so. Several seconds pass before he opens his eyes again. And seeing those who are about, he puts on his best smile and begins to greet them.

Andromache glances about herself for a moment, taking in those who have arrived, and unobtrusively sidles a step or two closer toward Kalypso, lowering her voice. "... pardon ... to... find... for a..."

Cassius' wings shift with a feathery rustle, and he continues to scan the crowd. The only noticeable change in expression is a more pronounced frown when his eyes alight on Cepheus. But it fades in seconds as the Archon seems prepared to address the audience.

Kalypso nods towards the clumps of recent arrivals, a pleasant smile on her face as she just smiles in that direction. She turns towards Andromache, real concern on her face. "Are you feeling all right? Need anything?"

Perhaps only visible to one watching extremely closely, Oriane's shoulders tighten ever so slightly as more of the Empyreal elite filter into the garden and join the party. Inwardly, she steels herself to the expected looks and upraised eyebrows.

Unlike the man at her side, Megeara is clothed to the teeth in womanly adornments. Perhaps it is just as well that Arahael's garb is simple. It makes a fine backdrop to the sparkling wonder of her attire. Her expression is suitably calm and pleasant as she looks about, nodding and smiling where apropos.

The Princeps' gaze moves among the party guests at a slow, deliberate pace. Settling on several personages of note--Cassius, Cepheus, he offers them a longer glance as a sign of acknowledgment. Lysander then proceeds deeper into the assembly, content to merely mingle and see who is speaking with whom. After wandering for a mere moment, he assumes a place that is in a 'key' position in relation to the others. A position designed to draw eyes to him as well as speak or act if needed.

Cepheus makes his way through those who have arrived, mumbling various greetings and formalities to them as he walks. He bows to Megeara when he reaches her, saying something that includes the phrase, "You look lovely this afternoon, Domina."

Raphael, Lucian, and Cassandra enter the garden from the living quarters situated off to the right.

Andromache shakes her head once to Kalypso's question, and starts to sidle away unobtrusively in search of a bench upon which to sit.

Raphael enters with another Praetor, an eager-looking golden boy. The two soldiers escort the Emperor and Cassandra.

Megeara dips a curtsey to Cepheus in response to his greeting, her tone a low murmur of politeness, "You are too kind, Archon. Thank you."

A moderately large crowd is beginning to gather in the central part of the garden. Cepheus is quietly making his way through the masses making various greetings and encouraging people to have a little bit of food and drink before things get under way.

Kalypso nods towards Andromache's retreating back, then grins broadly at Oriane, hand reaching out to snag her cousin's hand, tugging her towards the crowd of people. "Come, cousin... we shall make introductions, yes?"

Cepheus smiles at Megeara, "I am not so sure." He bows to her once again and begins to greet those around her.

Lucian glides into the area, his right arm held slightly out, upon which rests Cassandra's left. Their Praetorian escorts take up positions nearby, and the pair move quietly towards the group of people.

After accompanying his family into the garden, Cassius pays little attention to them, allowing Xanthiel, Ilyane, Eranthe, and the mongrel Lilith to mingle freely on their own. For his part, he stands alone off to one side, his hands linked behind his back and just beneath his wings, and watches with a vaguely disinterested air.

Arahael inclines his head to Cepheus as the Archon compliments Megeara, but allows Cepheus to move on--surely he has enough socializing to do without being caught in idle chatter.

Oriane's deep brown eyes widen slightly at Kalypso, but she gives a helpless little nod. As if she had another choice. One hand smoothing her long chimere, she allows her cousin to lead her forward.

Xanthiel seems content, at least for the moment, to remain near the edge of the gathering along with Ilyane and Lilith. The Praetor and noble, though admittedly as highly ranked as all but a few, seems somewhat ill at ease in such a group. He gives nods and smiles to those who enter and those who greet him, but most of his talk is soft murmurs to his wife.

Everyone else seems to be so calm, cool and collected. Where can she get herself some of that refined elegance? Eranthe manages some small, shy smiles and a few nods of her head but she doesn't carry herself with anywhere near the relative ease and confidence that most of the people gathered here seem to possess. Skirting out along the edges of the crowd, she takes up a spot a bit out of the way, the girl's wings twitching nervously every now and then.

Pantoleon smiles warmly to Cepheus as he looks to him and nods politely, "Greetings, Archon. My thoughts are with you and your house."

Ilyane leans down and whispers something to Lilith, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

Kalypso seems intent on working her and Oriane's way through the throng of people, towards Lysander. Might as well start big.

Lilith shakes her head and whispers something back to Ilyane.

Cepheus bows shallowly to Pantoleon when he is addressed, releasing a genuine smile toward the noble. "Your words are very much appreciated, milord."

Lysander continues to gaze around the garden, not seeming much into the social mingling scene--and such a thing seems right. He has no social ladder to climb and no one to impress, and thus remains apart from most of the others. When Lucian enters, his gaze averts to the Emperor and his 'guest.' A deep nod of acknowledgment is offered. Apparently in his scanning of the crowd, he spies Eranthe and looks as if to make in that direction. Alas, Kalypso approaches and he is detained, his gaze finding the Tritonis noblewoman and a smile coming to his lips.

Cassandra hangs a pace or two behind the Emperor upon their entrance, the residual signs of a half-frown shifting quickly into a thin smile of sorts. The hold on Lucian's arm is lightened slightly, though she remains in a somewhat even pace towards the crowd, gaze aslant towards the fringes of the garden.

Oriane's eyes roam briefly over the crowd before turning back on Kalypso. Giving another nod to her cousin, she moves forward towards the Deus Acesian.

Arahael stops a passing servant, commandeering two crystal glasses of ambrosia, and handing one to Megeara. He smiles to her briefly, although the expression is obviously far from perfunctory, before casting his eyes about the gathering.

Ilyane sighs softly and shakes her head. She glances over at Xanthiel and frowns, then leans down to whisper to Lilith again.

Siranae inclines her head in a graceful manner toward Cepheus, the diamonds twined throughout her sun-kissed locks almost seeming to catch fire with the motion. "Good evening, dominus... so kind for you to invite us to this gathering."

Kalypso grins brightly at Lysander, making sure Oriane is quite at her side before making some necessary introductions, her voice softly lyrical as it floats towards the nobleman. "Princeps, how nice for you to join us this fine afternoon. I'm wondering if you've met my cousin, Oriane Tritonides?" Must include that Tritonides in there. "Her uncle is Amadeo, our Sophist."

The Emperor meets Lysander's gaze and returns his nod, pleased. Noticing several faces in the gathering, he leans over and whispers to Cassandra, pointing here and there as he does so.

Lilith shakes her head again.

Drusus shifts slightly on his perch, looking down towards the crowd for a long moment. Then, reluctantly, he continues his scanning of the surrounding environs.

Raphael and his Praetorian companion stand off to the side, though within an arm's length of Cassandra and Lucian.

Megeara takes the glass from Arahael with a lightly teasing bow. "Many thanks, Deus. You anticipated me." Placing her hand once again on the man's arm, she nods to his murmured words, "Certainly. Lead the way."

At Kalypso's words, Cassius gazes over, and anyone interested enough to note his expression would find it to be one of disapproval. His cold blue eyes linger on Oriane's midnight-colored wings, and he gives a brief, mild shake of his head.

Oriane lifts her eyes briefly to Lysander, then drops them politely as she dips her slim form into a perfectly proper curtsey. Soft and neutral as possible, her voice is quiet, "Deus."

Cepheus bows to Siranae, "It is as my Aunt wished it, not a scene of mourning." He smiles at the woman, "But I believe the pleasure is mine, Domina."

At the Emperor's arrival, Pantoleon escorts his daughter into the clearing and out of the way of the newcomers. With friendly nods and warm smiles to all they passes, they assume a position among the guests and are greeted by a servant bearing refreshments. Pantoleon offers one glass to his daughter and then takes one for himself.

Kallia soars in from the skies above.

"Indeed, Domina Kalypso." Lysander's gaze remains upon her for a long moment, his eyes meeting hers without fear or significant emotion, "Your cousin and I have met before." His gaze finds her with that same look and a nod of his head in acknowledgment of her curtsey, "Unfortunately it was not under the most 'pleasant' of auspices." Now, he speaks fully to the dark-winged Empyrean, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Domina Oriane. I am glad to see you have decided to remain here in Palladium. Even after the initial confusion during your arrival." He gives the necessary amount of politeness and no more.

Ilyane sighs softly and shakes her head. She glances over at Cassius, and one might notice a certain coldness in the way her eyes rest on him. But only for a moment, before she turns to Xanthiel and takes his hand.

Arahael chuckles lowly and makes his way through the crowd towards the Deus Augustin, maneuvering carefully on behalf of his companion until his movement bring them to Cassius. "Deus Augustin," Arahael says, "It's a pleasure to encounter you, I don't believe we've spoken in quite some time. Have you met the daughter of Princeps Acesian?"

Lucian's eyes widen, and he points out several people to Cassandra, whispering feveredly.

Her smile becoming more natural at Cepheus' words, Siranae stops for the moment to take the proferred glass of ambrosia and after taking a small sips she gazes about and says, "Yes, indeed this looks to be a fitting celebration for such a great woman."

Oriane inwardly wishes she were anywhere but here at this moment in time, but she gives another nod to Lysander before replying politely, "There is much to learn here in Haven to advance my studies, Deus. Any confusion upon my arrival is already forgotten in the distant past."

Cassandra leans in as little as possible towards Lucian, while still being able to follow his whispers. As if following his words respectively, she glances to Siranae, then Lysander, then Cassius, lingering there a moment longer, then finally looking to Cepheus. Holding there, she nods to the Emperor, taking a half step in Cepheus' direction before pausing again to listen again.

Lilith uses this opportunity to try and slip away for a third time...

A small frown mars Kalypso's perfect, angelic countenance, before she turns it into a quick smile. "I'm certain that an initial confusion of my dear cousin shall be allayed tonight." She pats Oriane on the arm lightly, tuning the wattage of that smile up just a bit further. "I know my Aunt would wish for such."

Eranthe quietly watches the crowd from her spot along its border, more than happy to play the part of spectator. If she's not in the fray, then she can't mess up, right? She accepts a glass of ambrosia from a passing servant, holding it with both hands. A glance is cast over her shoulder--perhaps entertaining the thought of a subtle getaway?--before the young woman looks back to the crowd, taking little sips of her drink.

Cepheus nods at Siranae, "Indeed. Would you please excuse me?" He bows, and moves away from Siranae to greet others. Starting to move through the crowd again, he starts to, perhaps surprisingly, walk directly toward Cassius. He gives Pantoleon's daughter a second glance as he does so.

Xanthiel turns to Ilyane as she catches his hand, and draws her a bit closer to him. "Let her go, dearest. I do believe your brother-in-law will be most miffed with us if we sit here the whole time and make him look even worse than normal..."

Cassius' pale blue eyes settle on Arahael and Megeara as they approach, and he tips his head cordially to each in turn. His lips twitch minutely as he answers Arahael. "I have, yes. She has inherited her mother's grace and charm. I am reminded of my dear sister, Leda, every time I look at her."

Andromache perches quietly off to one edge of the main gathering, silently watching and observing the various ebbs and flows of the crowd of assembled notables, expression unreadable.

Lilith meanders along a garden path until she steps into the living quarters of the Palladium.

Kallia arrives from above, taking a position somewhat out of the way. She scans the area, shakes her head in puzzlement, but doesn't look displeased. She pulls at her hair, letting the loose braid come apart.

Siranae stops for a moment and in a low tone of voice to Pantoleon, "Father, if you will excuse me. I must go make my greetings to Kalypso."

Oriane turns slightly to Kalypso and smiles faintly. Keeping her shoulders erect and her ebon wings folded perfectly, she suppresses the inner welling of a desire to turn and flee from the gathering.

Drusus looks down again at the guests.

Ilyane sighs softly as she watches Lilith go, then smiles weakly up at Xanthiel. "I can only try."

Cassandra chuckles quietly as her attention is focused on making out Lucian's next round of whispers, from the conversation around. She glances to Oriane, then Drusus, then Siranae once again, lastly. Contemplation lingers in the gaze towards the last Empyrean, before she turns just slightly to reply to Lucian in quiet measures, in kind.

Lysander smiles just a bit at the two Empyrean women before him, "I am pleased to hear these things. And yes, Damaris would have wanted that, domina Kalypso." He gestures about the gathered crowds with his hand, "It is an honor and a credit to her life and her accomplishments that so many turned out to pay homage to her. I am pleased to be amongst those who called her 'friend', even though we did not see eye to eye on everything." A pause as he bites back the desire to continue talking, "But, I must be keeping you from your introductions. Please."

Cepheus approaches Cassius, but holds some distance until the Aegean is free.

Lysander not saying more? Kalypso's smile doesn't even register the shock-waves she's certain to be feeling. She inclines her head towards the elderly Aegian, and turns around, "Come, Ori... we must meet some others." She grins broadly as she suddenly notices Siranae, voice raising as she calls out, "Sira!"

Siranae moves forward with the grace of motion that is the hallmark of her kind, slipping between guests with the smoothness that she would between high-rising thermals while in flight, until finally she comes within speaking distance of her uncle and the two women standing close by.

Megeara releases Arahael's arm as he speaks, moving forward to stretch a kiss to Cassius' cheek. "Please forgive Deus Jove, Uncle," she says with a low laugh. "I think perhaps he is slightly rattled by the crowds." As if that could be the case. Returning to Arahael's side, her eyes somehow automatically find Eranthe in the shadows. "I have inherited some things from mother, yes," she says quietly, the smile faltering just a little.

Arahael's eyes close, the composure draining from his face for a brief moment before he recovers, "Forgive me, Deus. It did slip my mind; I'll admit to being preoccupied with other thoughts of late." He takes a breath, "Your niece and I are to be married, and my mind has been filled with little else these past few days."

Xanthiel nods slowly, "I know you did, Ilyane, but I don't think now is the time..."

Oriane quietly follows Kalypso, keeping pace with her golden cousin as if she were actually the shadow her coloring might suggest.

Pantoleon smiles and nods to Siranae. "Of course, my dear." Surveying the crowd for his daughter's destination, he chuckles as he sees the Domina Kalypso in discourse with his brother. Taking a sip of his beverage, he moves along on his own path.

Salt-and-pepper eyebrows lift in mild surprise at Arahael's announcement, and Cassius glances back and forth between the young couple. "Splendid," he remarks. "May Kronian bless your union with many happy years together." Then, his gaze shifts toward Cepheus, and the pleasant expression fades from his face.

Siranae gives Kalypso a warm smile before murmuring quietly, "Hello Kaly, I've not seen you as much as I'd like as of late, I'm sorry that it is on such a sad occasion as this that we are reunited." That said, her gaze moves onward to Kalypso's cousin and she extends the warmth of her smile there as well.

Raphael stands attentively within an arm's length of the Emperor and Cassandra, a younger soldier standing at his side. His grim-faced visage cracks momentarily in surprise at the impromptu engagement announcement.

Kallia half-closes her eyes. She's obviously watching closely, however, by her posture and expression, which is not quite as impassive as she's trying to make it. Her hands never stop braiding, unbraiding, and in general torturing her poor hair into very odd designs.

Lysander watches as Oriane and Kalypso move from him. Turning after they are good enough distance away, he makes his way through the crowds and past the groups who are speaking in soft or loud tones--he makes for the small Empyrean girl who lies huddled at the edges of the crowd: Eranthe. His form seems to blend well with the others, as if his presence wasn't strong unless he wished it. The simple attire he dons makes it easy to hide among the finery.

Arahael inclines his head, "Thank you." With Cepheus waiting on Cassius, Arahael beats a retreat--graceful, perhaps, but still a retreat, murmuring to Megeara as soon as he passes from earshot.

Kalypso grins, indicating towards her slightly lingering cousin. "Have you met my cousin, Oriane Tritonides? Oh, and how're your studies at Delphi?"

Oriane turns to meet whoever she is being introduced to at the moment. Tilting her head in a nod, she offers a pleasantly polite smile to Siranae. Someone watching her closely might see her eyes flicker with suppressed curiosity at the mention of Delphi.

Cepheus simply walks up to Cassius, bowing slightly to the older man, "I appreciate your presence, Deus... honestly."

Andromache finally takes a breath and rises to her feet again, re-joining the crowd without ceremony, merely wandering through as though to observe while staying unobtrusive as possible.

Pantoleon arrives before the Emperor's party and, ignoring the Praetorians, walks up to him. Giving a low bow, he greets, "Deus Lucian, it is a pleasure to see you again. I trust all is well with you--" his gaze turns to the Emperor's escort, "--and yours?"

With a negative motion of her head, Siranae says, "No...as of yet I have not had that pleasure. Good evening, Domina. I am Siranae Acesian... though you make call me Siranae if you like."

"I am here to honor the memory of lady Damaris Tritonides," Cassius returns to Cepheus, and his eyes are cool and hard as he says this. The implication is left unsaid, but exists nonetheless. He wouldn't be here otherwise.

Oriane gives a brief curtsey to Siranae, "A pleasure, domina."

Megeara pulls Arahael along with her, approaching Eranthe from the opposite direction of Lysander, and thus not noticing his movement. She leans in a humored conversation with the Deus Jove as the walk, unhurried, out from the busier area.

Siranae appears to accept the curtsey as nothing more that what is due to her station, although her expression is kind still, for all that.

Sip, sip, sip. Pale blue eyes keep track of the crowd from over the rim of her glass, Eranthe quietly watching the comings and goings from her vantage point along the outskirts of the party. Finishing her drink, she glances about but there are no servants close by. Why would they be hanging out around the rose bushes anyhow? Twisting, she places her empty glass on the ground behind there, therefore missing the approaching people.

Cassandra's expression remains thoughtful through Lucian's next quiet words, flicking her gaze once towards Drusus again, in what almost seems a perfunctory gesture, rather than another study. Quickly turning her attention back to her companion for the evening, she nods once, pausing again in the beginning of her steps. Offhandedly, she awkwardly teeters back a step, then peers up towards Pantoleon with reversed warmth in the smile that follows. Silent, until the awaited introductions.

Cepheus smiles faintly at Cassius, "I appreciate all you can give, Deus." And without waiting, he moves toward on of the benches, cutting through the crowd with more ease now that he isn't conversing.

Kalypso grins broadly at both her friend and her cousin. She turns towards Oriane, lowering her voice so it doesn't carry to Siranae's father. "Sira is quite a good adventurer, cousin. I do believe you'll like her."

The Emperor dips his brow deeply, and smiles. "And a pleasure to see you again, Dominus Acesius. Aye, all is well, and many the same to you!" Turning to his companion, he asks, "Have you met Domina Adeera, Pantoleon?"

Oriane simply gives Kalypso a smile as she nods and waits for the next set of introductions.

Kalypso hmms softly, looking around, "Where is your father, Siranae? I should introduce Oriane. She's not been in Haven that long." Only a few weeks. "Hasn't been able to meet everyone, as of yet."

Arahael stifles laughter at Megeara's words, and takes a drink from his glass, content to walk where the Domina Acesian is taking him.

Kallia takes a seat, her eyes wandering. She finally finishes with her hair, so it's mostly on a knot at the top of her head, secured with clips. Strands hang down across her face. She begins humming softly.

Cepheus steps up onto the empty stone bench before him, becoming quite a bit taller then the rest of the crowd. He turns toward the masses, a faint smirk on his face. He holds up a hand, not speaking at all, but clearly expecting a reaction out of this crowd's refined members.

Siranae eyes move quickly to where Pantoleon last was, and then move over to his new location... far away where no words of Kalypso's might carry. She allows the slight smile to become more full as she says, "Yes well, I don't think I'll be having much more opportunity for 'adventures,' Kaly. My studies at the Citadel are keeping me busy...as are my other responsibilities to the House." At Kalypso's words, Siranae turns in Pantoleon's direction and says..."He's over there conversing with the Emperor. Come....we'll go say hello now."

Lysander moves closer to Eranthe, his hand reaching out towards her with a gentle motion. With the moves of a practiced statesman, he leans over and whispers something softly to her, his eyes remaining on the crowd as he does so. The observant would notice a small smile come to his lips, a single wing spreading outwards to then cover his mouth so that others can see no more.

Cassius turns his attention to Cepheus and awaits his announcement.

Kalypso wrinkles her nose just slightly in Siranae's direction as she nods. "Ceph has made sure that I've extra Praetorians, lately. No fun, they are." She stops though, noticing her brother. "Perhaps in a few minutes I'll introduce you, Ori."

Andromache hesitates as those around her fall silent, looking up and about for the cause and noting Cepheus up on his perch; her gaze turns somewhat expectant as she watches and waits.

Xanthiel steps into the crowd, finally, drawing his wife with him. He seems to be angling towards Kalypso and Oriane, if anyone, since they seem to be making the rounds of the entire gathering anyhow. As he walks, he murmurs polite nothings to those that he passes, as is required of such formal occasions, but the slightly sour look that crosses his face from time to time indicates how difficult it is for him.

Kallia tilts her head to one side, looking in the direction of the one who seems about to speak. She shifts restlessly for some reason, and begins fiddling with a hairclip, still humming, or singing, very softly.

"No, indeed I have not. It is a pleasure to have your acquaintance, Domina Adeera," Pantoleon says with a polite incline of his head as he observes Lucian's companion. Turning back to Lucian, he adds, "It was truly a shock to hear the news of the Dea Damaris, was it not?"

Drusus gaze flicks back up away from the crowd; the pale soldier resolutely continues his survey of the sky and surrounding grounds.

Oriane brings her eyes away from Siranae and glances at Kalypso, then Cepheus. Nodding quietly, she murmurs softly, "Yes... it looks as if you are needed elsewhere at the moment, perhaps."

Megeara reaches Eranthe's opposite side at the exact moment Cepheus takes his higher position, flicking only a somewhat resigned glance past the other girl to her father. In relative silence, though she continues to smile at her low conversation with Arahael, she helps to position a smooth front and turns to await what appears to be the expected announcement.

Ilyane holds tight to Xanthiel's hand as he leads her through the crowd. She smiles and murmurs polite words to a few in passing, but seems a bit detached.

Cepheus' eyes scan for Kalypso in the crowd, and upon finding her, he waves her over.

Lucian nods. "Indeed it was. I was brought the message personally, as she and I were close. The Empyre is truly darker without her in it, Dominus." Looking up at Cepheus, the Emperor ah's. "It looks as though the proceedings are about to begin."

Kalypso shrugs slightly at Oriane, "Guess so." She sighs softly, setting towards her brother with a resigned look on her face. Though she's certainly hopeful that he isn't going to make her seem like an imbecile in front of so many people. She's perfectly capable of doing that on her own.

Arahael sips from his glass, whispering one last time to Megeara before he gives his full attention to the members of House Tritonides.

"The pleasure is mine, Dominus Acesius," the halfbreed woman returns quietly, almost mechanically, the corners of her lips briefly turning more upward, straining the lines against her forehead. Cassandra bows her head in a deep nod, before an aimless gaze already wanders, towards Cepheus' actions. Releasing Lucian's arm finally, her hands fold behind her back, fingers folding against the loose hanging of her robes until lost from view.

Cepheus speaks up, voice carrying over the crowd, "Does everyone have a drink?" He glances around the crowd, "Well?" He smiles faintly, glancing toward a bunch of servants and motioning them out in the crowds. Clearly, he intends to see that everyone does.

Oriane stays behind as Kalypso progresses towards Cepheus. Folding her hands before her, she stands silently among the crowd, one dark speck of pepper mixed in with a sea of flour.

Pantoleon turns to gaze upon Cepheus at the Emperor's words. Noting the outstretched palm, he nods, "Aye, it seems so." Draping his toga as is fitting over his arm, he drinks with his other and awaits the ceremony.

Kalypso's fingers nimbly catch a glass of ambrosia as she passes one of the servants, finally stopping at his side. Well, not quite at his side, as she doesn't step up onto the bench.

As a servant approaches Cassius with a glass of sweetly-scented ambrosia, he gives a slight shake of his head and waves her away. His attention is entirely focused on Cepheus and the young Kalypso, just nearby.

Lysander takes a drink from a servant as one passes, his eyes dismissive upon the creature in a strange fashion. He places a hand upon Eranthe's shoulder and turns both her and he towards Cepheus as he speaks. Typically humble, the Princeps has chosen to remain on the outskirts for the time being--allowing the Tritonides family to give the event its luster. His eyes focus on the speaker, goblet grasped in his hand with a loose, almost languid gesture. He waits.

Cepheus extends a hand toward Kalypso, clearly intending to hoist her up with him. He grabs a drink from a servant's tray, and clears his throat.

Lucian chuckles and takes two goblets of nectar from a nearby servant, offers one to Cassandra, and sips the other himself. "Not always the best way to precede an announcement, by suggesting everyone have a drink," the Emperor muses, and takes a sip. "But an honest one."

Eranthe starts slightly, Lysander arriving just as she's turning her eyes back to the crowd. Megeara and Arahael appearing on her other side contributes to her surprise as well, her wings flaring a bit. She smiles at the young woman, a small relieved expression, as she tilts her head to catch the Princeps' words. Blink. Biting on her lower lip, she hesitantly takes the drink the Acesian patriarch offers her and steps a little bit closer to him. Deep breath. Her gaze shifts and settles on Cepheus..

Kalypso draws her eyebrows together, stepping up onto the bench, voice lowered as she speaks to her brother. "... are you up ... Deukalion Tritonides?"

Megeara lifts her glass in Cepheus direction, indicating a response to his question. Her eyes flash to the man beside her however, and she's suddenly lost in a bit of a zone.

Kallia decides to stop shifting and being all jittery. For once. Her eyes rest on a tray of glasses. She leans forward slightly, finally shutting up.

Ilyane takes two glasses from a passing servant and hands one to Xanthiel, keeping the other for herself, sipping on it.

Siranae idly takes a sip of her drink as she takes her place again by her father's side and awaits to see what this announcement will be.

Cepheus smiles at his sister, and begins speaking in a strong, baritone voice which reaches every corner of the garden. "Almost all of you... at one time or another, had a chance to get to know my Aunt. And even though at times you may not have agreed with that which she strove to achieve for our people, or the world in which we live... you all seem to have had a unique respect for her. It seems this is all I have been hearing in recent days, from just about every one of you." A proud smile rests for a brief moment on his tired face. "You have come today, to celebrate her life, and hear what her last wishes were for our people and this House." He raises his glass, "A toast, to Damaris. To her life, to her work, to her House. May we be under her guide, for all our time."

Oriane takes a glass from a passing servant just in time to raise the glass along with Cepheus' toast.

The Emperor raises his glass, and shouts over the crowd, "Hear hear!"

Pantoleon raises his glass, repeating, "To Damaris."

Having declined to drink, Cassius nevertheless bows his head in respect for the memory of the departed Tritonides matriarch.

Kalypso raises her glass to the sky as well, eyes closed for a brief moment before a smile curves the corner of her lips upwards, her lyrical voice joining in with the others. "To Aunt Damaris."

Drusus, for the moment, stops his scans over the area. He is guarding and has no drink, but his eyes rest on Cepheus and go unfocused--regrets at having not met the Dea, a quiet prayer to her to watch over her family--before he returns to himself and his duties.

Kallia takes a glass, somewhat greedily. She sips on it a little indelicately for someone who seems to be refined. She slows as the servant gives her an odd glance.

Lysander listens with a patient gaze to the Archon as he speaks. At parts of the speech he nods slowly, his face looking almost distant for a few moments--clearly those who know the Aegian know that he held Damaris in very high respect. His one hand remains on Eranthe's shoulder, head bowing for a moment as the speech draws to a close. However, it is the shouts and cheering which draws his attention back. He merely raises his glance, but does not raise his voice.

Eranthe lifts her glass, sliding a sidelong glance to Lysander and then Megeara. Just keeping an eye on the other--if she just mimics them, she can't go wrong, right?

Cepheus completes the lift, saying again, "To Damaris!" And in a sweeping motion, he lowers the goblet and takes a drink from it, clearly expecting the crowd to follow suit.

Kallia continues sipping away, watching as she does so. She twists a strand of hair around her fingers, folding her wings more tightly across her back.

Arahael raises his glass to Cepheus' toast, "To Damaris," he echoes, "of the lares."

Xanthiel joins in with the rest of the crowd, raising his glass to the memory of the late Damaris, his own thoughts of her mixing silently with those that are expressed, before he sips the ambrosia.

Siranae raises her glass in silent toast before taking a small sip of ambrosia.

Kalypso takes a sip from the glass as well, as she lowers it to her lips. Not a sip, but rather a gulp. In this scene, one needs all one can get.

Megeara raises her glass in a polite motion, then sips from it. She doesn't speak, letting those around her add words to Cepheus'.

Kallia raises her glass to someone imaginary, and says softly "To money, hair-clips, and guards."

Cepheus glances around the crowd, his voice still strong, "And now, we must come to the part that is not so easy." He glances briefly at Kalypso, who stands next to him. Finally he begins, "I was fortunate enough to arrive at Civitas Dei while she still had some time left, and she and I spoke of all the things we never got to speak of here in Haven, our busy lives preventing that up 'til then." He smiles faintly, some of the darkness inherent in his face lightening miraculously for a time. "We finally had a chance to catch up on what she had been doing both within and outside of our people." The light accents to his face again fade into his tired features, "And being as wise as she was, she knew the end was near. So we spoke of that which she wanted carried out now, when her presence is not among us any longer. She asked that these wishes be carried out by the remaining members of the Aegis, in honor of her life." He glances around the various member of the Aegis, eyes resting on one in particular for a longer period of time, Lord Augustin.

Arahael's brows rise slightly at the Archon's words, and listens attentively as to what, exactly, the wishes of Dea Damaris were.

If Cassius notices the fact that he's being singled out--by a look if not a statement--he doesn't indicate it. His pale eyes rest unwaveringly on the Archon, and he waits.

When the Archon's eyes find him, Lysander meets them and he nods. Clearly he was aware of such things and they do not take him by surprise. He actually now takes a sip of the ambrosia which is in his grasp. For a split second, he glances over towards Eranthe and his daughter, as well as their gathered associates. His manner is somber and serious, as fits an occasion such as this and his station.

Pantoleon appears totally engrossed in Cepheus' forthcoming announcements, for within them lie the meat of the night's activities.

Kallia waves her nearly empty glass around, sighing loudly as she looks to the sky. She then changes her expression again, so she looks rather happy. Blue-gray eyes never quite focus on anybody, but continue flitting around the area.

Kalypso's crystal-clear gaze is quite focused on her brother's handsome countenance, a small smile curving her lips upwards, especially on mentioning the Aegians.

Megeara straightens quietly, the seriousness intensity of those close to her seeping over onto her and wrapping her in a calmly expressed stillness.

Andromache's gaze seems focused on Kalypso's brother's handsome countenance, too, but not quite as seriously as most around her.

Eranthe takes small sips from her glass, her manner a bit more settled now that she can draw upon the strength of Lysander and Megeara. Her gaze rests on Cepheus, expression smooth and serious--taking the cue from those around her.

Cepheus continues, voice still clear, "One of the first things she mentioned was the acceptance of those in our noble bloodlines who are darker then the rest. Her close consort, Amadeo Valerian Tritonides, who gave her invaluable advice over the years, and his family are to be taken into the family without question, regardless of their.... darker influences. And freed of the public... disdain I myself have seen them experience. This was meant to be accepted throughout the noble Houses of our people, for these people are no less of noble blood than ourselves."

The glass flies from Kallia's waving hand, landing some distance away with an ominous crash. The Empyrean woman ignores it, however, and except for a slight wince, goes back to her previous activity of hair examination and soft singing. She waves her now empty hand at a nearby servant who is again staring at her. She frowns darkly.

Andromache's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, but she keeps watching Cepheus despite certain distractions.

If anyone were glancing in Cassius' direction as Cepheus speaks these words, they would see a distinct frown deepen the lines of his countenance, and an agitated rustle of his wings further enforces his disapproval. Cool blue eyes dart momentarily in Oriane's direction, and his scowl does not abate.

Oriane starts at the distant sound of breaking glass while her eyes also widen slightly from Cepheus' latest statement. As many pairs of eyes glance her way, she pulls in on herself slightly, letting her eyes find the ground, though her shoulders and back stay erect.

Megeara sucks in her breath, one hand landing delicately at her throat. If perhaps, up until this point, she'd been merely giving the image of politely listening, the Archon surely has her devoted attention now. Eyes slightly widened, she stares at the man.

Kalypso's eyes swing towards Oriane. Her cousin. A broad grin is splashed across her face as her chin lifts in the air. Proud of her brother's words, perhaps. She waits for him to continue.

At Cepheus' words, Xanthiel's eyes go directly to Cassius, and the look they contain is perhaps the most icy one that has ever been seen on the Praetor's face. His hand tightens on Ilyane's for but a moment, and there can be no doubt that the man is quite... angry...

Though his mind is surely busy, Pantoleon presents little outward reaction to the Archon's first announcement. His gaze simply remains locked upon Cepheus, awaiting what may.

As the speech continues, Lysander remains unresponsive, his face plastered into a mask of pure, unbridled focus. He does not nod or even move. The mention of darker Empyreans does not draw a flinch from him, rather he moves and sets his partially drunk cup aside with an easy motion--a servant coming to get it only a moment later.

Ilyane squeezes Xanthiel's hand and smiles reassuringly up at him, though it seems that the smile is forced, at best.

Siranae's auburn brows raise slightly, before taking a sip of her wine. Yes, indeed this should prove an interesting mix into Empyreal politics.

Cassandra remains a rather silent figure through Cepheus' speech, gaze flickering but briefly from the front to peer towards Kallia. She seems visually disturbed, marring a mostly-placid expression of prior, drawing a step closer towards Lucian. The vessel in her hand is idly turned, fingers curling and uncurling at its base as she forcibly directs her attention towards the Archon once again.

If Drusus listens, he does so without interrupting his duty of guarding; his expression does not change as he continues to scan the area.

A shift of Arahael's wings and a slight lowering of his brows are all the response he gives. Be that reaction to Cepheus' words or to Kallia's distractions, it's uncertain, for both occurred simultaneously. Still, it is Cepheus that the Deus Jove regards with his storm-grey eyes, and not Kallia.

Raphael and his companion stand near the Emperor, stone-faced and silent.

The Emperor remains silent, a smile of pride forming across his features. Eyes sweeping over the crowd to take in the reaction of the people, he nods and gazes back at the speaker.

Eranthe glances about at all the expression of muted shock and outrage, chewing on her lip for a moment or two before lowering her gaze. Peering down into her glass, she swirls the liquid within as she quietly considers Cepheus' words.

Cepheus seems pleased with the crowd's reactions, as the faint smile on his face becomes a little more evident. He continues to speak, "But this is only the beginning of the work she began before her death. Another injustice she saw in our world was the predominance of slavery among our noble people. She seemed to feel that binding others only condemned us to bind ourselves, and that we should all strive to end the slavery of the lesser races we all claim to attempt to help in our work."

Oriane slowly begins to edge her way out of the crowd, using the distraction of Cepheus' latest controversial topic to take the attention off of herself and her dark features. Upon reaching the doors to the living quarters, she glances back and lets her eyes trail over those gathered there, her expression unreadable. Finally, she turns and slips away.

Oriane meanders along a garden path until she steps into the living quarters of the Palladium.

At the next comment from the Archon, Cassius turns his head, searching among the gathering for one in particular. His quarry: Lysander Acesian. His blue eyes rest on the Princeps for a full moment before returning to the speaker.

The Emperor's eyes follow much the same course as Cassius', seeking to gauge the reactions of the Aegis. He appears unmistakably pleased, but seems intent upon getting the opinions of his advisors before venturing comment.

At this latest announcement, Pantoleon takes a long drink from his glass, his eyes turning above the rim to incongruously look at Lucian's reaction. He then returns his attention to the Archon after waving down a servant and obtaining a fresh glass.

Kallia is behaving nicely now. She watches the announcer calmly, letting her hair alone.

As Cepheus continues, Xanthiel looses his hand from Ilyane's, and begins to make his way towards his brother. This time, as he makes his way through the crowd, he all but ignores everyone... Except Cassius.

Drusus' gaze, curious and thoughtful, settles on Cepheus, and for a moment he forgets that he is supposed to be keeping watch for trouble. Luckily there are others to make up for his lack.

Lysander is, after all, the Patriarch of the largest slave-owning House in the Empyre--Acesius. His eyes remain focused upon only the Archon, though clearly he notes the gazes which fall upon him, he does not pay them any heed. If Lucian is looking for an opinion, he's not going to get it from the Princeps. Then again, Lysander is legendary for his poker face. Few can tell which way he stands on a matter till he opens his mouth. The only movement he makes is to shift his stance.

The sound of rustling feathers comes from Arahael, his wings shifting several times before coming to settle. The effort to remain without discernible reaction is obvious on the Deus Jove's face--nonetheless the observant will see a square set to his jaw, a tightening about his eyes. Jove keeps few slaves, but slaves the House does keep--unapologetically.

Ilyane frowns slightly as Xanthiel moves away from her, and she moves to follow him.

Cepheus coughs faintly, his voice re-stabilizing afterwards, "Aside from the continued efforts of making peace with those races around us, she most importantly named who she thought it best to follow in her footsteps as head of this household... and who to recommend to fill her place among our ruling body, the Aegis." Another glance around the crowds. For a brief instant, a slightly wry smile might be noticed on Cepheus' face, but if it was there, it is quickly gone. "Some expected it to be myself, or perhaps her trusted advisor Amadeo, but this is not what she thought best for the house... nor the Aegis." This seems to linger for a moment.

Seeming to sense that the next wave of looks will come in the direction of the two Aegians to either side of them, Megeara leans to murmur briefly in Eranthe's ear, then straightens. Her look is purposefully distant as she resumes her stance.

A distraction draws Cassius' gaze away from the Archon--that distraction being his younger brother, moving toward him through the crowd. His eyebrows lift, and he assumes an expression of mild inquiry--though Cepheus' next words quickly reclaim his attention.

A frown starts upon Kalypso's face. Then deepens. So help her, if Damaris has named Elidi...

Andromache shifts her weight from one foot to the other, nose wrinkling slightly as she apparently gets somewhat impatient with waiting.

Xanthiel, for his part, seems to be the only one paying little attention to the naming of the successor, still intent on getting just a little bit closer...

Kallia doesn't actually know, at least not well, any of these lovely official-sounding people. However, she attempts to look as though she does, leaning forward intently.

The darkness in Cepheus' face seems to grow a little, "Instead, she felt that the House would best be led by another... one that would follow in her footsteps and best represent our House." He seems to pause, taking a deep inhalation, "The one she name to follow her is.... Kalypso... Deukalia... Tritonides." The Archon's eyes are surprisingly neutral when he looks over at his sister, and nothing more is said for now.

A brief smile lights up Siranae's face at her friend's good fortune, quickly dimming in the light of what has been said this night and the likely effect it will have on the relations between their two Houses.

Kalypso blinks slowly, gaze filled with confusion as she looks up towards her brother. Who in their right mind would name her Matriarch? She laughs softly, almost certain Cepheus is joking, but then stops. For... he wouldn't joke about something so important, would he?

As the Tritonis successor is named, Cassius shows the first real reaction he's displayed all night--his mouth drops open, and his pale eyes widen, darting back and forth from Cepheus to Kalypso. Cepheus he'd been expecting--or perhaps Amadeo, but his surprise at the alleged successor is no sham. His wings unfurl for a moment, and one silver feather drifts down toward the ground before his great wings re-settle. Immediately, he shoots a glance at Lysander.

Eranthe leans over a slight bit to catch Megeara's words, her lifted eyebrows knitting down as she listens to the other woman. Pulling back, the faintest frown--one of vague distress--tugs on her lips and she quickly focuses her attention back on Cepheus. She's just not very good at that 'poker face' thing yet. Her eyes then sweep over, like everyone else's, to Kalypso.

Pantoleon graces the young woman with a long look, contemplating her sudden elevation to the head of her House. He raises his drink in silent congratulations and downs a little of it for good measure.

When the name is dropped, Lysander is still unresponsive. His eyes alone move from the Archon and towards the rest of the crowd, gauging their reactions with that same impartiality which his position demands. Knowing Lysander's reputation, one wouldn't be surprised if the Aegian had a hand in getting Kalypso appointed--through whatever methods necessary. Lastly, his gaze finds the young, inexperienced Kalypso and rests there, grey eyes watching the girl's reactions to this appointment.

Andromache blinks once, twice, glancing from Cepheus to Kalypso in surprise. She starts to carefully work herself free of the crowd once the name has been named, making her way toward one of the benches off to the side.

Drusus continues his review of the garden and its surroundings, his face expressionless.

Kallia nods knowingly. Yeah, she knew. But of course. Even though she has no idea who this is. She puts a look of surprise on her face, but it looks manufactured. Then she gives it up, and looks blank and confused.

This last announcement, the name of Kalypso, causes Arahael to close his eyes briefly as he gives a long exhalation of breath. When his eyes open, he finally seems to have mastered the nigh-expressionless demeanor that he struggled to master early. His eyes turn to regard in turn Lysander and Cassius, coming to rest on the young Kalypso Deukalia Tritonides.

Xanthiel pauses to clap along with the others for Kalypso, though his attention still seems to be split. He raises his glass to his mouth, draining it of ambrosia, before looking back to his brother. He pauses for just a second longer, murmuring an apology to Ilyane, Kalypso, and someone else too soft to catch, before raising his empty glass in the air. Deciding he is close enough, he hurls it at Cassius, Patriarch of House Augustus.

Ilyane stops in her tracks as she sees Xanthiel hurl his glass at Cassius, and she raises her hands to her face with a sigh. She shakes her head slightly, then takes Xanthiel's hand and tries to lead him away from his brother.

Having been utterly distracted with this turn of events, Cassius is unprepared for the 'attack,' and the glass hits him right on the side of the head. He staggers briefly at the impact, letting out a startled cry, and whirls in Xanthiel's direction. "What the--?!" he exclaims as the glass falls, unbroken, to his feet. There, it shatters.

Trained for such things, Cepheus' deep grey eyes track the sparkling object as it travels through the air. As it strikes Cassius, the Empyrean all but growls. And his eyes begin to scan the crowds, looking for the source.

A flash--the flying glass catches the setting sun's light and describes a short, bright orange line of fire. Drusus sees the motion and turns sharply, looking over in that direction. A moment later the glass breaks and his eyes focus on Cassius and those around the Augustin Aegian.

Good. So she's not the only one. Kallia looks over in interest, even more than before; which isn't hard.

When the glass flies through the air, Lysander's perceptions settle on the object--however he is in no position to do anything to stop its impact against the Augustin Patriarch--so near he stands to the other. With the same speed, he looks over the crowd, scanning for bodies that are even turned to face Cassius. A hand a wing move out protectively to surround Eranthe, and when he's done looking at the crowd, he mutters lowly, "Megeara." Clearly he wishes his daughter to not leave his sight. The guard will handle this.

Cassandra remains among the more neutral within the sea of faces and reactions. In her case, at least, one name seems as inconsequential as the next. Ever in this contemplative air of dark silence, her attention shifts quickly away from the speech and towards the clamor, frowning questioningly as the source of the thrown object is visually sought out amongst the throng.

The Emperor's eyes widen, and he points at his guards, then gestures to the rapidly-building commotion.

Kalypso steps down from the bench, and then sits on it. She doesn't seem to have even noticed Xanthiel hurling a glass at his brother's head, strange as that may seem. Her fingers curl tightly around the stem of her own glass, lifting it to her lips as she drains the contents in one swift gulp.

Drusus launches himself from his perch, arcing out over the crowd. He folds his wings and falls straight down, thumping hard onto the ground in between the origin of the glass' trajectory and Cassius. His wings spread, sheltering the Deus from further attack, and Drusus looks for the instigator.

The shattering of glass echoes out, and Arahael looks to the source of the sound. It's lost in the crowd, although the reaction of Cassius is plain to see. The Jovian whirls, eyes seeking out Drusus and motioning abruptly to his cousin. One wing stretches out in an attempt to shield Megeara at his side.

Xanthiel does not move from where he hurled the glass until after it makes impact. Then, with a satisfied nod of the head, he turns his back on his brother and begins to make his way back towards his wife. No words are spoken, not even a sound, though he also makes no attempt to hide the fact that it was indeed he who threw it.

Raphael glances around, looking for threats to the Emperor. He makes a quick hand motion to his fellow Praetor, ordering the young soldier to stay at his side; their duty is Lucian, not broken glasses.

One hand lifts, gingerly fingering the welt that's already started to raise on his temple, and Cassius shifts to catch a glimpse beyond Drusus' wings. Luckily, he's still too dazed by the incident to really react.

Megeara watches the scene, her distant expression turning abruptly to shock. Instinctively, she backs into Arahael, the blank look she shoots Lysander stating clearer than words that she has no intention of going anywhere. Standing in the shadow of the Deus Jove's wing, she peers out at cautiously.

His glass still in hand, Pantoleon avails himself of it--the usual way, by drinking from it. He observes the commotion from the protective proximity to the Emperor, his other arm pulling Siranae protectively closer.

Ilyane snatches Xanthiel's hand in her own and drags him quickly away from the crowd. As she does so, she whispers quickly to him, the look on her face suggesting that she is quite angry.

Drusus casually lays a hand--his left one--on the eagle-headed pommel of his blade. His pale eyes lock down on Xanthiel. A quick glance to other posts summons two other Praetorians, and they begin to make their way through the crowd, approaching Cassius' brother. "Dominus," Drusus says to Xanthiel. "If you would be so kind as to come with us."

It is not a request.

Kallia gulps. She hunches her shoulders, looking around carefully and nervously. She sniffs loudly, although whether it's out of upset feelings, or disdain, is hard to tell.

Eranthe steps in closer to Lysander, the soft gasp coming off her lips betraying her shock. Not certain as to what is going on, she is more than happy to remain within the protective arc of the Princeps' wing, peeking out from around it with wide, wide eyes.

If anyone has a reason to drink, it is Cepheus. But instead he seems content on the situation with the glass. His voice booms across the garden, "Enough of the very bickering which my Aunt so detested." His face visibly darkens; the Archon himself on the verge of something akin to a breakdown. "Squabbling like mongrel children playing the Rialto. Stop, right now, all of you." He jumps right down, beginning to work his way through the crowd.

His fingers come away bloody. Cassius stares dazedly at them for a few moments, then at his brother's retreating back. In those few seconds, he's recovered enough to shout, "XANTHIEL! What was the meaning of that--and at this occasion, no less?!"

Drusus steps closer to Xanthiel and lowers his voice. "Please, Servitor, come away quickly."

The other Praetorians close in and one of them--a young boy whose hair would turn white if it weren't already white--shoots an anxious glance at Cassius.

Lucian's eyes fall upon Cepheus as he shouts, and the Emperor's eyes squint for a moment. "Oh no..." he mutters softly, his face paling. Leaning over, he rapidly whispers something to Cassandra.

Lysander just watches as the situation develops, his eyes resting on Xanthiel for a long moment as it is clear he saw the Augustin hurl the glass at his brother--or at least the back end of it. His wing remains stretched out around Eranthe, his other hand hung to his side. When Cepheus hops down and begins to wade into the crowd, his eyes follow that one for a moment. Clearly he is content to let this play out a bit further before he raises his voice and ends it.

Ilyane frowns slightly and attempts to continue dragging Xanthiel away from the crowd. She glances back towards Cassius with a frown, then sighs and shakes her head, muttering something about brotherly love in a very bitter tone.

Andromache merely watches what she can see of the fuss from the edge of the crowd, finding her perch on the bench to be much more desirable than standing on tiptoe to try to see or any such kind of thing.

Cepheus pushes closer to Drusus, Cassius, and Xanthiel. He glances back and forth between the three of them. "Stop this, NOW." The Archon is not looking like his stable self, "You are betraying the memory and wishes of my Aunt, and that is not acceptable." He glances between the men, "Stand down, in the name and memory of my Aunt, stand DOWN." More by reflex then anything, Cepheus' hand comes to rest on his ever-present hilt.

Xanthiel does not allow his wife to drag him away, knowing full well that he needs to face the consequences of his actions. And besides, the regal way he holds himself shows clearly that he would have done it again in a heartbeat. He nods slowly to Drusus, murmuring, "Perhaps that would be best, soldier, but I don't think anyone is going to let you remove me quite this fast." He turns back to face his brother, raising his voice for the first and last time. "You know full well what the meaning of that was, and if you had a decent bone in your body you would realize you deserved it a hundred times over."

Cassandra's gaze is almost forcibly drawn from Xanthiel towards the Archon as he makes his way through the crowd. Even before Lucian's whisper, her attention is rather engaged in Cepheus' movements, pale eyebrows knitting. Shaking her head quietly, she mumbles some sort of reply to the Emperor, gaze not straying for a single moment from the source of this sudden interest between the two.

Kallia watches, with a definitely unhealthy interest. Shocked, perhaps a little, but she's very much gawking.

Raphael and the other soldier stand attentively by the Emperor, looking around alertly just in case this is some sort of a diversion.

So much for a graceful exit. Drusus remains where he is, in between Xanthiel and Cassius. Let them shout at each other, but there will be no more physical violence between them.

Cassius' pale eyes flicker between the Archon, the other gathered Praetorians, and finally Xanthiel. The outrage is still plain on his face, yet for a split-second, there was a lapse of uncertainty. Perhaps even fear. It is cloaked quickly by a sneer as he hisses, "Your behavior is inexcusable. We are here to honor the memory of one of our own, and this is how you behave? You shame me, brother. You shame our House."

Cassandra mutters, "... not... and... something... seems... fluctuate. What sorts... things..."

On edge for far too many reasons, Arahael wraps one arm around Megeara's shoulders, his wing still extended over her. With a glance to Lysander and a murmured word to Megeara, the Deus Jove escorts the Domina Acesian from the garden, moving through the crowd and away from the disturbance.

"Enough." Lysander's voice comes out in a flat but commanding tone. He looks to both Augustins and furrows his brow. Where Archon Cepheus will not succeed in shouting, the Princeps will. "The Archon is right. This ceremony is to honor the life and accomplishments of Damaris. She was dedicated to the ideals of peace and equality." Removing his wing from around Eranthe, he steps forward with a slow motion, daring anyone to speak up again with his eyes alone, "Soldier Drusus? Remove Servitor Xanthiel 'til he can reign his temper and let this ceremony proceed." He gestures towards Xanthiel with an off hand.

Ilyane frowns slightly and shakes her head. She turns to Xanthiel and speaks, "You should not have done that. Now is not the time." She then turns to Cassius, and continues. "But you know why that glass was thrown at you..." She sends an icy glare to each of the two brothers, then walks quickly out of the garden.

Pantoleon raises an eyebrow at Cassius' dire charge. Observing the triangle of Cassius, Xanthiel, and Cepheus with the imposing Drusus in the center, he looks to his brother just as that one speaks. A wan smile at the exactness of his timing escapes to Pantoleon's lips and he nods approvingly at the sentiments.

Megeara allows herself to be led away, though her gaze does linger for a long moment on Xanthiel and Cassius. Still, now is not the time to begin questioning her uncles' motives, or lack of decorum, and so she simply leaves.

Xanthiel is perhaps the only armed person in the room without a hand on his weapon, for his crossbow remains quite visibly untouched at his hip. "I do apologize to you, Cepheus, and to the memory of Damaris. I am truly sorry for this spilling over and darkening what you took so much care into keeping a light moment. I humbly entreat your forgiveness." He does not even look at Cassius.

Cynara enters the garden from the atrium.

Arahael gives one last glance to Drusus as he leaves, nodding to the Praetor before he finally turns and ducks out of the garden.

Arahael and Megeara disappear along a garden path leading to the living quarters of the Palladium.

The Emperor seems to scarcely raise his voice, but the sound of it is borne upon the winds and carries far. "Aye, enough. This is a family matter between two brothers, and should not be aired here. Damaris' memory will NOT be sullied so." There is a note of finality in Lucian's words, rather uncharacteristic of the youth, but convincing enough.

Cynara hovers near the entrance, gazing in, hair drawn over her forehead to conceal the mark there. She keeps well out of the way of those leaving, blue eyes peering in interestedly.

Drusus glances between Xanthiel and Cassius. His rank makes his opinion worth little and he knows it, but he agrees with the Emperor, and that much is plain on his stern, calm face.

Kalypso seems to be concentrating on breathing for now, from her seat on the stone bench. She seems to have noticed the brouhaha between the brothers of House Augustus, but knows that her words never seem to make much of an impact anyhow.

Eranthe steps back, retreating further away from the crowd as Lysander removes his wing from around her. Her brow is creased, worried, as her eyes flit from face to face, the girl nearly wincing at every hostile and angry expression she observes.

Cassius' lips compress to a thin line as his eyes dart about, rarely lingering on any one person for long. There is a trickle of blood lining his temple, and his pale face is paler still with outrage. To no one in particular, yet all gathered, he states, "Allow me to apologize on behalf of my sibling. Perhaps I did not instill the importance of etiquette properly." He gives a brief bow of his head, then addresses Lysander and Cepheus (and notably, not Kalypso herself), "The Aegis has always voted on its new members. I trust this tradition will not be forsaken?"

Kallia is obviously not going to leave a scene where she can stare at not only many Empyreal males at once, but excitement which she can repeat to whoever has the misfortune of speaking to her. She leans forward even more,.

Raphael stands with another golden boy Praetor nearby, attentively near the Emperor, obviously guards.

"Your pardon, Servitor," Drusus murmurs as he grasps Xanthiel's arm. The other two Praetorians gather close and the three of them turn to escort Xanthiel out.

Xanthiel is offering no resistance to being led off, in the least. If anything, he seems relieved that the disruption to the proceedings is nearing an end. Though Cassius' words earn the Patriarch another disgusted glance, Xanthiel keeps his mouth shut and follows Drusus.

Drusus and Xanthiel head toward the living quarters of the Palladium.

Lysander's gaze lingers towards Cassius, his eyes are lidded--almost tired, but more reserved than anything else, "The tenets of the Aegis shall not be forsaken, Deus Cassius." He states the tradition, "However, I am certain those esteemed members shall take into consideration Damaris' considerable wisdom and ability, knowing that she would have selected a successor who was both prepared and capable of leading our people." With those words, he glances to Kalypso and inclines his head.

Cynara retreats from the scene as quickly as she'd entered, disappearing along the path to the atrium.

Cepheus' face shows no surprise at Cassius' remark--perhaps the Hound figured the foolish Aegian would make such a crack. He seems to be slowly cooling off, his face clearing slightly as the moments tick by. His arms crossing in front of him, he simply listens to those who speak.

Cassius' gaze follows Xanthiel and Drusus momentarily, his anger still plain. Yet Lysander's words draw his attention back, and he pitches his voice lower as he points out, "Indeed, Dea Tritonides emulated her House's namesake in all things, and her wisdom was legendary. Yet, she was also sick, and on her deathbed. It is not uncommon for one's judgment to become, shall we say... faulty." He shoots a none-too-subtle glance at Kalypso before adding in a quieter tone, "After all, we cannot overlook the decision our own former Emperor made, before his tragic demise..."

Taking a deep breath, Kalypso rises from her seat. Slow steps carry her towards the gathering at the center, face composed, if slightly more pale than earlier. She inclines her head towards Cassius, "Deus Augustin, p'raps that should be looked at." She tilts her head towards Lysander, as she reaches the side of her brother. Her spine is ramrod straight, she will not back down from the mean-spirited Augustin. No way no how.

Lucian's eyes remain locked on Cepheus, and he leans over to whisper something to Cassandra. Upon hearing Cassius' words, however, his eyes shoot open, bright with anger. "Dominus, you go too far...." he growls. "You will not speak ill of the honored deceased, not in this place."

Lysander motions his hand about the garden, regarding Cassius with a stern gaze that still betrays no emotion, "Such talk is fare for the floor of the Aegis, Dominus." The title reference is not out of disrespect, but a reminder of who he is, "I believe the guests at this ceremony do not wish to hear such things and if you wish to talk privately with me, I am at your service." Clearly if anyone can quiet Cassius' ranting, it is Lysander. He speaks his language and does it well.

Kallia leaps into the air and takes flight, disappearing into the sky above Haven.

Cepheus smirks faintly at Cassius for some reason, his own face becoming slightly wry. He makes his best effort to smile at the Aegian, "Indeed Deus Augustin, my Aunt also told me much of the happenings leading up to our honored Emperor's death." He glances at Lucian, looking back at Cassius, "But alas, it is getting late. Be well, Deus Augustin." He bows to the Aegian, and walks away, assuming the man will take the hint.

The Emperor nods once to his guard and begins cutting through the crowd, making a bee-line for the Archon.

Cassius' eyes settle on Kalypso for a heartbeat, as though gauging her, and her intentions. Yet he has time for little more, for Lucian's comment, and then Lysander's, command his attention. His scowl deepens, yet Lysander's reminder of his 'place' was sufficient. He bows his head. "Indeed, Deus. I shall take it up with you at a more...convenient time."

Raphael follows Lucian, his comrade staying with Cassandra.

Andromache perches on a bench at the edge of everything, just watching.

Lysander inclines his head somewhat stiffly, seemingly unamused and unflustered, "Thank you, Cassius." His hands slide behind his back with a smooth motion. Looking over towards Lucian next, he regards the Emperor with a gaze that is more neutral, "Tempers are rising, friends. I believe that Archon Cepheus has called this gathering to a close. May I remind you all to proceed with wisdom and caution and consider the actions of others carefully. Trust that the Aegis shall render a decision that is in the best interests of the Empyre, as it has done for thousands of years." He seems to speak to all, his voice carrying with the strength and expertise of a natural orator and leader of men.

Pantoleon watches the proceedings with growing disinterest as it degenerates into mere squabbles. Setting aside his glass as the Emperor marches off towards Cepheus, Pantoleon adjusts the drape of his toga and looks towards the living quarters, apparently debating whether to leave.

A scarlet smear is left across Cassius' brow as he swipes at the blood, then tips his head again, equally stiffly. "I have no doubt," he murmurs dryly in response to Lysander. "Now, please excuse me. I shall go see what roused my brother's enmity..."

The Emperor and his guard reach Cepheus, and Lucian places a hand upon the Archon's shoulder. His face strangely pale, he whispers something into Cepheus' ear.

Cepheus turns slightly to Lucian, eyes curious about what his approach is for.

Gathering the shreds of his dignity together, Cassius tips his head to each in turn, then moves at a stately pace toward the living quarters.

Kalypso tilts her head towards Cassius, from her position somewhat near her brother. "One of the servants can fetch you ice, should you desire such, Deus Augustin."

A spectator on the sidelines, Eranthe quietly watches all with a quiet, somewhat distressed, expression. Her wings flutter with a bit of nervousness, her eyes shifting mainly between Cassius and Lysander as her finger pull and twist at the silks of her chimere.

Cassius gives no response to Kalypso's kindly-meant comment as he retreats from the garden.

FIN  

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