#illuminatingeclipse.

iphigenia wasn’t the type to lose her head. nothing really phased her. not nudity, not blood, not even the sight of bone — a culmination of genetic bred perfection in a dusk healer. she’d seen the gore of peregryn wing injuries and pushed forward.  despite being into the late hours of the "evening" shift, there was barely even a trace of a tremor in her palms as delicate fingers hover over the assortment of vials.

“remind me what symptoms we're looking at here?”

in spite of her churlish behaviour and her diamond crusted tongue causing pause in a more polite manner of speaking, breeding is in the bones. she offers a reluctant, shallow curtsy to the lord of spring, unable to feign ignorance of his status as per their conversation at the lantern festival. jia remembers leaving with a slight bow of her head and no promise to meet again. yet, luck should have it, in the name of tarot cards and reading the stars, they should be so lucky to encounter each other once more. well, jia was not so sure they were lucky. if she had her way, they would all be winnowed home and this moment would remain as a beautiful dream full of strangers she did not allow herself to meet on even footing.

“lord tiernan,” she straightens her knees, and comes up short to his significant height. this is annoying. there’s the softest of furrows to her brows, trying with all her might not appear so sour-faced again. “what brings you to the gardens?” she asks this, not quite sure how to ask what brought him to her family’s personal gardens. they were so expansive it was not so shocking to think it might be an accident.

thwack. thwack. thwack.

the emerald tail falls steadily behind her, repeatedly thumping as they wait. she'd caught sight of the fae sneaking away from the feast and had immediately grown confused by the brief greeting - no acknowledgement to the silence since she'd last seen him on the beach. tiernan would soon come to find: it was difficult to sneak off when you stood over heightened crowds, towering over most fae. so, feeling jilted by the lack of attention after they'd last spoke, she weaves through the throng of people, finding her way outside. scylla meets her there, curiousity matching her master's annoyance.

"what? no 'hello,' tiernan?" tanned arms cross at the sight of him, deeply unimpressed. "not to entitle myself to your time, but i feel as if polite society dictates that a letter is the bare minimum if one is unable to carve the time out of your schedule to release a fae from your harem of females. especially after a mutual declaration of affection. or is that the difference between the dusk court and civilized prythian?"

outside of the feast, out of earshot of the bonfires.

even only a handful of days into the summer court stay gifts the winter high lord a deeper bronzing to his complexion, a tickling tan to contrast against the pale sands. despite the beautiful landscapes, the heat was scorching. even stripped bare, one would find rivulets of sweat dripping into places one hardly knew they could sweat in. he finds solace in the chill of the sweet tea that the servants are so wont to offer, equal parts ice to drink. sitting now across from his older cousin, the high lord takes a long sip of his drink before turning to her.

"vera, i've given you so little to write about the last few years. i'm sure you could fill a tome or two about recent developments, hm?"

she watches the guard as she chews, assessing if he was truly enjoying her company or was simply being polite. oh, kieran. a man of the working class, after her own heart. to be of the working class. a generously ambiguous title, one that iggy claimed with all the additional duties that came with her role within the infirmary. she understood what it was like to need just a moment to oneself, needing to decompress alone.

“if you’d like an hour to yourself, i promise you don’t have to dine with me, kieran.”

he didn't know how tiernan had convinced the dusk lord to host a party at his estate, but tiernan was just as convincing as iain was sometimes. in any event, despite the debauchery the duo had afoot for the evening, the esteemed lord shen had offered his palacial estate for the event.

with ease, iain morphs from his pale fur and back into his fae form. at this point of the evening, the other fae were far too gone to even notice the ermine, otherwise iain would never risk the shift. even tiernan was busy entertaining the crowds with his infamous moves, skilled in all kinds of arts.

"alright—" he can't help the smug grin on his face. "hold your applause until the end." iain gives a dramatic flourish of his arms, drumming up the excitement of his audience of one (despite the party raging around them). "i've extended the invitation to one of the dusk ladies, and... not only is she here this evening, she also brought the other young ladies."

the commander liked the feeling of slipping out of her bed when the others were sleeping. it made her feel young again — like she was breaking curfew to sneak over to the other barracks. there was something delicious in the pretend of it, with the back of her mind telling her to return to bed as she crept through the ironteeth compound.

although she could find her way through the winding hallways to get to vi's accomodations, honoria climbed out of her window instead, scaling the walls until she found the window she was looking for. screw the stupid dragons. there didn't seem to be any insight at this time anyway.

the illyrian presses her face against the glass, engaging her balance as she holds up a bottle of liqor in the other. "let me in!" honoria shouts, speech surely somewhat muffled on the other side.

"ah!" ulka cries out in delight as the tavern's bell chimes. "violeta! you came! how wonderful! let me find you something to drink."

although she was having difficulty warming to the newly minted court, ulka liked the proximity it allowed to the other courts. she was a social butterfly at heart, flighty and amused by the novelty of fresh personality. all her life, ulka had been sheltered in the confines of the day court. although she had her little freedoms and rebellions, she was no better than her little sister. the mercenary was exciting to know, the contrast in her life bringing much needed interest to the monotony of their dusken days.