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wynn) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
knightsoflegend2012-01-19 07:57 pm
wynn) wrote in knightsoflegend2012-01-19 07:57 pm
Entry tags:
- abbie mills,
- abigail hobbs,
- aedan cousland,
- andrea dodge,
- astrid mädchen,
- bo dennis-gatewood,
- brantley river,
- caroline forbes,
- chiaki yoshida,
- chris ramirez,
- derek hale,
- desmond d. descant,
- dimitri belikov,
- elena gilbert,
- felicity braddock,
- fyrel lear,
- haymitch abernathy,
- jameson bennett,
- jimmy novak,
- kate beckett,
- kate bishop,
- kyla whelan,
- lila zacharov-gray,
- maggie-may west,
- mars dacey,
- martha jones,
- morgan mccleary,
- nels llendo,
- nick hawley,
- phineas dantalion,
- richard riddick,
- rose hathaway,
- sam winchester,
- sebastian trevethor,
- skye,
- snow white,
- soo-jin song,
- spike,
- sterling archer,
- sven van tol,
- tallisibeth enwandung-esterhazy,
- the doctor,
- violet reedhym,
- wynnefalshond
prologue ♔ chances are more than expectations
WHO || Wynn and any characters newly joining the Knights
WHAT || Initial recruitment meetings with Wynn
WHERE || Knights Headquarters outside London, England
WHEN || Anytime before the 1st of each month
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam (I'll follow your lead!) Please make a new thread for your character's arrival below.
♬ [When you see this note in a post or NPC tag, click for musical accompaniment!]
The paths to the Knighthood are as unique as the individuals who comprise its widespread organization. But all of their tales have one aspect in common: their first trip to the castle that serves as the primary headquarters for their operations occurs blindfolded, generally with the member who had recommended them for service as their escort.
Only when the car had pulled up to the front steps of the opulent building are they unmasked and allowed to follow inside.
Within the wide front hall is what looks like a receptionist desk to the left, manned by any one of a number of usually young Knights, who make the newly arrived sign into an ancient looking tome with hundreds of yellowed pages, along with today's date, usually accompanied by a look of curiosity from whoever's working the desk. Either way, they ask no questions.
They are then directed down the main ground floor hallway, which seems to stretch on for a great distance, passing tapestries of a mostly medieval flavor, suits of armor and weaponry lining the walls, and archways that open into opulent ballrooms, extra wings with numerous doors, poshly decorated parlors and more.
It's in front of an incredibly large painting that they come to a stop, drawing some kind of keycard out of their wallet or pockets and using it to open a small glass case containing a fire extinguisher to the right of the artwork. They pull the extinguisher upwards like a lever, making it clear it's just for show, and a loud mechanism creaks behind the wall, as the entire mural swings aside slowly to unveil a torch lit hallway. Escorts leave their charges to go on from here alone, usually with a nod or word of encouragement.
There's something solemn about the long stone corridor, made only more so by the fact that almost every inch of the walls on either side is covered in paintings, tapestries, rugs, artifacts, carvings, etc. that depict various images from the Knights' history, of those in armor battling against all manner of twisted and dangerous creatures. There's another constantly reoccurring image as well - of a gigantic silver dragon battling against armies of dark elves, or just one dark elf in particular, who is often depicted with a certain circular symbol somewhere on his wicked looking armor.
More prominent than this collection of madly arranged images is the incredibly large lettering inscribed over the large doors at the end of the hallway.
Thou Shalt Defend the Knighthood.
Thou Shalt respect all Weaknesses, and Shalt constitute thyself the Defender of them.
Thou Shalt not recoil before thine Enemy.
Thou Shalt make War against Injustice, without Cessation and without Mercy.
Thou Shalt never lie, and shall remain Faithful to thy pledged Word.
Thou Shalt be Generous, and listen to and Respect All.
Thou Shalt be Everywhere and Always the Champion of the Right and the Good against Injustice and Evil.
The room that stretches out beyond those doors, however, is enough to wrench the eyes off the inscription. It houses an incredibly large, thick, wooden table constructed in the round, surrounded by at least twenty five chairs. Rising from the center from the table is a massive statue that appears to be made of glass or crystal, depicting a dragon in flight. Suspended in the middle of the statue is a proud looking sword, that looks as if it's merely hovering there because of the statue's transparent nature. The statue rises up towards the vaulted ceilings as if it means to break free and soar out of the room, creating a very otherworldly aspect to the setting.
It may take a moment for those who enter to realize they are not fully alone, as Wynn waits on the exact opposite side of the table, facing a pair of incredibly tall sealed doors, that appear to be gilded in gold leaf. His hands are locked behind him, laced white cuffs falling over them, one ring visible on his left hand. His height is intimidating, at a full six foot seven, and his posture rigid and impeccable. He wears an old-fashioned tailored coat worked with silver and dark blues, over a silver and white doublet, framed with gleaming buttons that have tiny dragons worked onto them in brushed silver. He says nothing - doesn't even so much as turn, as if he doesn't even register that anyone has arrived.
Once inside, the doors fall shut with a ponderous thud, of what seems to be their own accord.
WHAT || Initial recruitment meetings with Wynn
WHERE || Knights Headquarters outside London, England
WHEN || Anytime before the 1st of each month
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam (I'll follow your lead!) Please make a new thread for your character's arrival below.
♬ [When you see this note in a post or NPC tag, click for musical accompaniment!]
The paths to the Knighthood are as unique as the individuals who comprise its widespread organization. But all of their tales have one aspect in common: their first trip to the castle that serves as the primary headquarters for their operations occurs blindfolded, generally with the member who had recommended them for service as their escort.
Only when the car had pulled up to the front steps of the opulent building are they unmasked and allowed to follow inside.
Within the wide front hall is what looks like a receptionist desk to the left, manned by any one of a number of usually young Knights, who make the newly arrived sign into an ancient looking tome with hundreds of yellowed pages, along with today's date, usually accompanied by a look of curiosity from whoever's working the desk. Either way, they ask no questions.
They are then directed down the main ground floor hallway, which seems to stretch on for a great distance, passing tapestries of a mostly medieval flavor, suits of armor and weaponry lining the walls, and archways that open into opulent ballrooms, extra wings with numerous doors, poshly decorated parlors and more.
It's in front of an incredibly large painting that they come to a stop, drawing some kind of keycard out of their wallet or pockets and using it to open a small glass case containing a fire extinguisher to the right of the artwork. They pull the extinguisher upwards like a lever, making it clear it's just for show, and a loud mechanism creaks behind the wall, as the entire mural swings aside slowly to unveil a torch lit hallway. Escorts leave their charges to go on from here alone, usually with a nod or word of encouragement.
There's something solemn about the long stone corridor, made only more so by the fact that almost every inch of the walls on either side is covered in paintings, tapestries, rugs, artifacts, carvings, etc. that depict various images from the Knights' history, of those in armor battling against all manner of twisted and dangerous creatures. There's another constantly reoccurring image as well - of a gigantic silver dragon battling against armies of dark elves, or just one dark elf in particular, who is often depicted with a certain circular symbol somewhere on his wicked looking armor.
More prominent than this collection of madly arranged images is the incredibly large lettering inscribed over the large doors at the end of the hallway.
Thou Shalt respect all Weaknesses, and Shalt constitute thyself the Defender of them.
Thou Shalt not recoil before thine Enemy.
Thou Shalt make War against Injustice, without Cessation and without Mercy.
Thou Shalt never lie, and shall remain Faithful to thy pledged Word.
Thou Shalt be Generous, and listen to and Respect All.
Thou Shalt be Everywhere and Always the Champion of the Right and the Good against Injustice and Evil.
The room that stretches out beyond those doors, however, is enough to wrench the eyes off the inscription. It houses an incredibly large, thick, wooden table constructed in the round, surrounded by at least twenty five chairs. Rising from the center from the table is a massive statue that appears to be made of glass or crystal, depicting a dragon in flight. Suspended in the middle of the statue is a proud looking sword, that looks as if it's merely hovering there because of the statue's transparent nature. The statue rises up towards the vaulted ceilings as if it means to break free and soar out of the room, creating a very otherworldly aspect to the setting.
It may take a moment for those who enter to realize they are not fully alone, as Wynn waits on the exact opposite side of the table, facing a pair of incredibly tall sealed doors, that appear to be gilded in gold leaf. His hands are locked behind him, laced white cuffs falling over them, one ring visible on his left hand. His height is intimidating, at a full six foot seven, and his posture rigid and impeccable. He wears an old-fashioned tailored coat worked with silver and dark blues, over a silver and white doublet, framed with gleaming buttons that have tiny dragons worked onto them in brushed silver. He says nothing - doesn't even so much as turn, as if he doesn't even register that anyone has arrived.
Once inside, the doors fall shut with a ponderous thud, of what seems to be their own accord.
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Speaking of, and because apparently she's not polite enough to say hello before just launching into things -- she doesn't waste any time:] So I get that when people come through the whatever, Wedding Veil of Doom or something, they get like half their brains ripped out, but... [She huffs out a short breath of a sigh.] What does this selective memory crap encompass? Because I can write and spell, mostly, and I, oddly enough, cuss a blue streak in a dead language, go me, but I can't remember stuff that is way more important.
[And it sucks.]
no subject
It remains a great subject of debate as to which is the greater curse, and which the larger blessing.
no subject
Shoving her hands in her pockets so she won't keep worrying at her arm and leaving pink and red scratch marks up and down her tattoo like a particularly ugly plaid, she instead fiddles with pocket lint. A glance at the table shoves a question out of her mouth, but she has the decorum of a soldier to preface it first.] So, personal question, can I ask it? Bearing in mind that you reserve the right to not answer, I'm down with that.
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[There is a question coming. The messy lead up is necessary.] Everyone seems to be a Sir... but you.
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However, just as Arthur directed and commanded his Knights, so do I lead those who would take up the mantle here.
no subject
Hmm.
no subject
There are others in our organization who are granted titles above and beyond their Knightly 'Sir'. Two Dragon's Claws, who are meant to be that public face: the personification of what we stand for. And a leader from each section, who represent the brightest and boldest of each of our disciplines.
Conformity becomes an evil, after all, without hope, and achievement. Having something to aspire to.
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[Her hand leaves the table, back to her arm, scratch scratch.] How does a girl like me join the club then? Excruciatingly long test made up only of word problems and reading comprehension, 'cause I would fail that in a heart beat. Trolls, especially in a dungeon, or the girl's bathroom, that I can do.
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But tell me. What is it you desire from this "club", as you say?
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She didn't know if she could articulate what she wanted. A home, some place to belong, somewhere she could actually be useful. Family just sounded so pathetic, she didn't want to say it out loud.] If I say I don't know will you pretend to believe me?
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[She wrinkled her nose slightly, suddenly nervous. What if he said no. God, how shitty would that be, for real. Losing more than half her brain had already screwed with her self-confidence, that would be just awesome.] So what now?
no subject
There'll be a ceremony soon, to grant you the title of "Sir", but you are welcome to stay in the castle before then. You may consider it your home, and all rooms and amenities are at your disposal.
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Did you just have her on standby? Or did you know before I actually said anything that I was going to join?
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[ he approaches her around the table, standing in front of her now, so that she can see the detailing in his coat, and fully appreciate the size of the man ] Do you have any other questions for me?
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Yeah. But they're mostly inappropriate. You're really, really tall. ...which I'm sure you already know.
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[Thumbs up and the most graceful curtsy ever, from an entirely ungraceful woman, all those ballet lessons she doesn't remember totally paid off. Muscle memory is an amazing thing.]
So I'm gonna go get that armour thing. It was nice and kind of scary to meet you.
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