open audience;

[ironwood]

Characters: The Ironwood Emperor and anyone who came to speak with her!
Date: November 15th.
Location: The Palace of Landed Sky
Situation: The expected holding of an audience for any that care to speak with the Ironwood Emperor.
Warnings/Rating: N/A; to be updated if necessary

The hall is still and white, strung with softly glowing lanterns that are strung up high beyond reach. Outside, the sun is at its zenith, and it filters down through the cloudy glass roof to create a brilliant, nearly blinding ambiance.

The floor is marble, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and ruby quartz. It catches the light, and casts strange patterns on the walls.

The Emperor is painting today, broad sweeps of colour across canvas. She's dressed very simply, with no ornamentation, and every once in a while she'll stop to wipe her brow with her arm, which has resulted in more than one smudge of paint on her cheek or forehead. She seems to be in a decent mood today, at least?

[Actionspam or prose are both acceptable!

Characters will only be admitted into the hall one by one, so there won't be anyone present for anyone else's conversations, and there won't be any 'mingling' in the chamber itself.

By popular demand, we will continue to allow mingling for those waiting for an audience in an antechamber. There is a thread header below to allow for that!]

Comments

AUDIENCE

[ironwood]

Thor (MCU)

[veryveryfrightening]

[Fully adorned in armor and his bright, lavish red cape trailing off his shoulders and Mjolnir in hand; Thor walks until he is at a respectable distance from Eshai. Taking off the metal helmet, he got on bended knee and set it upon the ground. Then a loud, but dull, thump reverberated throughout the palace walls and grounds as he placed Mjolnir down next to him. Ceremony is an important and vital aspect of Asgardian rule, and Thor wasn’t about to treat this as anything different.]

Your Majesty. [He bows his head and places his fist over his heart.] I am Thor Odinson of Asgard. I am here to officially swear to you that I will guard this realm, preserve the peace, and pledge myself to the good within it.

[His voice is strong and rich with determination, passion. Raised as a warrior and forged into a protector, Thor leaves little to speculation on his words when he raises his head again to look at her with a serious look. There is more, but as a prince he knows to wait until the Emperor accepts what he has laid before her and gives him permission to rise. Especially when she’s somewhat occupied by her painting.]

[fatedchaos]

[Vanessa's been waiting a few weeks to come see the Emperor after their conversation over the network. What she isn't prepared for, when she walks into her chambers is to see her... painting. The smudges on her face are a little bit much, like some kind of artist trademark.

She bites back the giggle, but she can't really hide the smile on her face.]

I guess it shouldn't be surprising that you have hobbies, right?

AUDIENCE - STILES

[skybluejeep]

Stiles is well, well aware that this lady has testicles of brass. Heh. Iron. No wonder they call her the Ironwood Emperor...

"Um. Hi. Stiles Stilinski, one of those kids you said was probably pulled here by accident? And wow, that's a really nice painting. It really is."

He clears his throat, a little nervous, but he usually has zero compunctions about telling authority figures off. This? No exception. So he squares his shoulders and gets right to the point.

"Can you get us TV broadcasts here? Or failing that, a Netflix account? I mean, anything. Old episodes of the Honeymooners and I Love Lucy. The Brady Bunch. The Mets game? Please? We need entertainment. Your highness."

Clara Oswald

[parallels]

[She's sick with a cold but she has not forgotten the Emperor's request for her to come visit during an audience to speak about the library. Clara makes sure to shower, brush her hair, and dress in proper clothes instead of pajamas as she trudges through the snow to the palace. She's also lined her pockets with tissues as back up.

She approaches the Emperor and then pauses. She doesn't really know the proper way to address an Emperor. She's done it before with the Doctor, but he'd always known what to do. Clara coughs, clears her throat, and then kneels down.]

Emperor. It's me, Clara. We spoke before about the library.

The Archive

[constants]

[ The Archive is dressed formally today, wearing a simply designed dress, black fabric with black embroidery. A heavy grey cloak is pinned with a silver pin. She's here on business and dressed for the occasion, cold weather style.

She approaches the throne with purpose and stops an appropriate distance away, nodding with her greeting. ]

Hello.

[langsyne]

[In retrospect, Scott regrets attending the audience.

It's not as though his question is that important and he would probably just live just as happy of a life without the thing than with. (More importantly, he would probably still have a life to live.) Maybe if he prefaces the request with something moderately serio—

All his thoughts go scattering when he's finally let in and catches sight of the regal woman painting calmly. Definitely not what he's expecting.]

That's...that's a very nice painting. [Of something. That he can't discern. But is not going to mention because people get touchy about that sometimes.] Very—colorful.

Jack Frost

[wintershepherd]

It was only the direct request that prompted Jack to show up to this audience. The spirit didn't want to bring up the children's disappearances right now, not so soon after Victoria had gone back home. And while she unlike Gavroche had not arrived after an incident which had taken her life, her own situation was complicated and he couldn't be certain she'd be all right. It left him feeling aimless and fretful and guilty to where he wasn't even enjoying the sudden change in weather patterns as he would have liked to.

He watches Eshai painting for a moment after entering, glad to see that the deep weariness of her last message has somewhat faded and decides the painting is at least friendlier than sword practice. This woman certainly gives new meaning to multitasking.

"It looks like you're feeling a bit better," he said carefully.

[andaway]

"I didn't peg you for an artist. But if I may, I think it suits you."

Kal says as he steps inside in all his colorful glory. He even gives her a subtle bow, he's always been a defender of respecting other culture's protocols. He hasn't really used this chamber much, but every time he steps inside as Superman he gets the feeling he's breaking a subtle harmony of colors with his loud suit. If he had his formal dark suit instead he would consider wearing it- or even the blue electrical one.

"Last time we talked you suggested I used the audience instead of the network for my questions, so here I am. I wanted to know about our memories, and how magic might play a part in letting us keep them when we leave." When, not if, because that's how Kal rolls.

[demon_brat]

[Damian's neat and composed when he walks across the hall that is getting almost familiar. The painting... He watches quietly for a little while, not sneakily, but with curiosity.]

[But he does speak up before it stretches the limits of propriety.]

Your Majesty.

[He'll ask his questions concisely enough, yes, but. Not before he is acknowledged.]

Natasha Romanoff

[vdova]

[ She's dressed in dark clothes, winter ones, thanks to the vouchers she's picked up. Small jobs for the gangs here and there have kept her supplied with money, but Natasha has bigger jobs and bigger ideas in mind. After all, she and Tony have an agreement. It's the closest thing she has to her working outfit, the clothes she's wearing now, and that's the image she's trying to project. Not Natasha Romanoff, but the Black Widow.

Upon entering the chamber, Natasha stops at a respectable distance, placing one curled hand to her chest, bowing low. She's dealt with diplomats before, Tsars and Emperors and Kings and Presidents.

She stays in the bow as she speaks, tone respectful, pitched just high enough so that the Ironwood Emporer can hear her. ] Your Highness. My name is Natasha Romanoff and I come to you with an offer.

MILYN

[cherrywood]

The kedan woman elects to take advantage of the audience today to visit, though these events have been lately more dominated by Foreigners. She lingers in the antechamber to watch them, an innocuous figure until it's her turn. If she's surprised to see Eshai painting, she gives no sign of it.

"Ironwood Emperor," she says with a bow, formal but not simpering, her dark eyes bright and smiling. "I wanted to thank you in person for your recent indulgence of the Foreigner's holiday."

Holiday (you didn't see anything)

[doc_holi]

[If the last few weeks had been any better, then Holiday would have been pretty excited to finally meet with the Emperor of their little impossible city. As it were, she was still recovering from whatever the phasing had put her through. She even called off research on the nanites to come here today.]

[Her hair was still white, but at least her eyes seemed to be gaining streaks of their once bright green color again. She was tired from the trip and couldn't wait to go back home to rest, but she still tried to look her best for the meeting. It was first impressions, after all.]

[Guided into the room, Holiday smiled and bowed to the Emperor, a little surprised that the other woman was painting for the occasion, but certainly not taken aback by it.]

I'm Doctor Rebecca Holiday. It's a pleasure to finally meet with you, Emperor Eshai.

I've come in regards to the metaphysics that Tu Vishan permeates and possibly controls.

[Might as well get it all out in the open. Politics and all that.]

Gabriel

[casaerotica13]

[Like Hell he was going to tell anyone he was coming out here for this. He tried to keep it such a secret that he flew as far as the guards would allow just to not be seen by civilians. He could have just gone in, but he would rather these guys with sharp swords not think he was an assassin.]

[So, Gabriel, once it was his turn, walked into the hall with a smug grin and a nod of admiration at the place. Not bad digs. He can appreciate good stone work. Those mortals were always good at being creative.]

[He gave a smirk to the Emperor, deciding that she didn't seem like the type that swooned easy, if at all, and instead asked:] Whatcha doodlin'?

[Just ask the Virgin Mary. He's wonderful at first impressions.]

Gaius Septimus

[survival_isnt_living]

Preparing for the meeting since he agreed to it a month ago has put a special kind of emotional pressure on Septimus, the last week especially. When he arrives at the Palace, however, none of that shows in his impeccable composure. In his blue tunic Favrielle had made for him last winter, sword belted on according to regs, and in a red cloak to ward off the cold, he looks (and feels) more Aleran than he has in months.

The confident composure lasts, despite the emotions he is keeping at bay, approximately until he enters the audience chamber proper.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise to see Eshai painting, and he seems almost stricken. The moment is followed almost immediately by a wry smile as much of his unconscious tension drains from his shoulders. As a result his bow--though very little more than a deep nod--is colored with the same good-natured, genuine respect as his voice. "My lady."

[unconchonable]

[Eridan has been told to take his issues with this place up with the Emperor herself, and what sort of prince would he be if he found himself intimidated at the prospect. In short, he isn't at all, and thus he finds himself seeking her audience. Everyone else has been completely useless, and he's about had it with the incompetence of this place.]

[So, he enters the chamber, dressed in his usual though, nothing fancy because it isn't like he thinks she deserves anything like that. Black long sleeved shirt with a purple aquarius symbol on it, pretentious blue striped scarf, along with his hideous black and blue striped pants (lets just leave those atrocious shoes out of this) is what attire she's greeted with. He's still lacking his purple cape, having left that behind in his own world and all. He looks displeased at best as he stares her down.]

[There's no formalities to be found with Eridan, his arms raising to cross over his chest once he finally stops his approach, a good distance from her.]

So, you're the bitch in charge, huh? The Emperor? Can't say I'm at all impressed.

Elizabeth Comstock

[beunbroken]

[Booker said not to do it. But Elizabeth was beyond listening to him- before she could fully settle in, she needed to speak with the Emperor, to ask her just one simple question, that would undoubtedly lead to more. She wanted to know if, when all was said and done, if it would be possible for her to remain here, given what awaited her upon her return to her world.

Dressed simply and respectfully in a blue and white dress, Elizabeth had bid goodbye to Booker outside in the antechamber, before approaching the Emperor.] I didn't know you painted, your Majesty. [She smiles, curtseying.]

I paint a lot, too. One of the many hobbies I'd picked up. But... That's not why I'm here.

[Obviously.]

Bart Allen

[backinakidflash]

[Bart's never bothered with an audience before. The whole mess with Evandau and the kedan authorities left a bad taste in his mouth, but the Emperor seemed all right when he spoke with her on the console. He has to know if she has more information on this whole 'loss' thing.]

Emperor Eshai. [There's something of a bow in the way his head dips and his shoulders roll forward.] Uh. Hey. How's it going?

[... not well, really. He's pretty sure he should be speaking like a snooty character in an Agatha Christie novel, but that's too much concentration.] ... I don't know how these audience things are supposed to work.

[OOC note: Ignore the icons. Bart is just Bart, not KF.]

Korra

[alphatar]

[The cold weather certainly has Korra in a very good mood. As she's walking through the doors into the audience chamber, a flick of both her hands gets the snow off her clothes and hair.

Beaming like a child at Christmas, Korra stops in front of Eshai and places her right fist into her left palm as she gives a respectful bow. Slightly marred by her unshakable smile.]

Emperor Eshai. [When she straightens up and sees the painting, her eyebrows raise in polite interest.]

Wow, you're a painter too? [Realizing how that sounded, she put up her hands defensively.] Not me I mean, I know others who are good at it.

[ofmyth]

[Thor is wary, and he does not care if it is obvious. There is a great deal of power here which the Emperor may or may nor controlling (he's heard conflicting accounts). Overconfidence in the face of such isn't wise.]

Hail, Emperor of the Ironwood throne.

[It can't hurt to be polite though.

He's not at all thrown by her painting. More than once he's held war counsel with the All Mothers where a suckling babe was being coddled or burped.]

I am come to seek information regarding the foe which threatens us.

[tomemyoutliers]

( While the Emperor might have been dressed simply, Shockwave had taken no small amount of care on the appearance of the holoform - dressed in an ivory dress with elaborate gold hem, coupled with a matching fur hat and muff to complement the change in weather. Tucked under one arm was a small package, wrapped up in wax paper to protect it should the weather take a turn for the worse.

But addressing that would come later, for the moment Shockwave hoped to make-- if not a better impression on the Emperor than Orion, at least a different one. Shockwave was not so naive to think that the Emperor would have completely forgotten Orion, and nor did Shockwave expect not to work against the legacy of that conversation.

Which is why Shockwave gives the Emperor a respectful nod, even if her attention was on the painting rather than Shockwave. )

Good afternoon, your Majesty.

[superieure]

[Monet walks into the chamber as imperiously as she would walk anywhere else, dressed in local fashion save for the double belt with the X buckle. She moves with a dancer's grace, and comes to a stop at what she thinks is a reasonable distance. She's spent time with royalty at home, but few of them ever drag her to the back of a giant turtle.]

Your Majesty. My name is Monet Saint-Croix and I would like request access to your library.

[traitorously]

[Catty comes into the hall with some curiosity - sure, she helped break into the palace all those weeks ago, but she didn't end up in this hall. Her eyes light up when she sees the Emperor painting, but she doesn't comment on it. At least, not yet]

Your majesty, I heard you wanted to go back in time? [she pauses] Uh. I'm Catty, by the way.

ANTECHAMBER

[ironwood]

open;

[washitaway]

[Booker is looking mighty agitated, for anyone who spots him all by his lonesome. First they took his weapons, nullified his vigors, and then Elizabeth had to go in there by herself?

He is just not down with this situation. Not down with it at all. Anyone in the antechamber will probably spot him pacing rather restlessly, his hands occasionally going to the empty holster he wears on his shoulders.]

-------------

[When he arrives with Elizabeth, he's not much better, scowling and frowning at everything they pass.]

Are you sure you wanna do this?

CANON UPDATES

[ironwood]

[kelpful]

Technically they're supposed to go in one at a time, but Percy and Annabeth go on in with their hands firmly locked together anyway. At this point, closer to Tartarus than they've ever been before, Percy would rather fight the entire Palace than be separated from her.

It's clear from his expression, the dark circles under his eyes, that he hasn't slept well tonight, or any other night recently. "Your Majesty." Honestly, usually he wouldn't bother with titles, but he doesn't want to screw this up. They need this. "We want to make a deal for our future."