Edged Blossom lands with Rajha by the signup booth. Rather than waste more Essence reconverting her Windblade, she just lets it hover close by while she asks for a form. Sizing up some of the competition, she mutters, "Some Terrestrial, and who else... hey! I didn't know you were in the running, too." Edged Blossom just caught Rajha's name in the Medium listing, and glances with surprise at the woman accompanying her.

Nearby is Desus, still entertaining the crowds with his glorious presence. "Oh gods, isn't that Desus, hero of... a million different things? I swear, the history books have a whole section just for him. Several volumes, if you get the unabridged version." The pained look on her face shows she wasn't all that happy having to study every page.

"Well, he's probably in the Expert race, though. No skin off my teeth!" Blossom shrugs, and starts filling out the form.

Pebbles had meant to go meet the lost Exalt earlier, really, but had been distracted by her humanitarian impulses, and helped out a stray Terrestrial who was clearly suffering from the weight of a too-heavy purse and had been delayed for a few minutes

"Hey Rajha, who's your friend?" Pebbles asks as she alights by the Kiosk.  Not bothering for an answer she grabs the other girl's hand and pumps it vigorously.  "I'm Five White Pebbles, a Waning Moon Lunar."

"Oh, hi!" The auburn-haired young woman whose hand Five White Pebbles just shook smiles back at her. Once she's deposited her completed form at the booth, she introduces herself properly.

"I'm Edged Blossom, a Dawn Caste. Ruler of Deheleshen, guiding hand of her Prefecture, and so on and so forth, but whatever." Pebbles will notice that Blossom looks quite well-off financially, though there's a pair of Terrestrial bodyguards that have just winged up from the ground level to join her. "Oh, you're a Steward! Does the name Fair Xiulan sound familiar to you at all? Or are you good at finding people? I'm... really needing to look for her."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:56, Sat 10 Oct 2009.

"Hmm, I don't know the name offhand." Pebbles answers thoughtfully.  "I'm not exactly an investigator but I know a few people who are."  Pebbles considers more, unfortunately looking at the issue through her own skewed view of the universe as she weighs potential profits and expenses.
"What does this person look like? And how much money does she owe you?  Oh, and do you expect that she'll need some roughing up?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Sun 11 Oct 2009.

"Ack No no! No roughing up!" Edged Blossom looks positively scandalized, though at the same time oddly fascinated by the red-haired Lunar. Suddenly flustered, she waves her hands around, while the Terrestrial guards scowl at Pebbles slightly. "And I don't owe her money, it's not like that at all."

When Pebbles mentions pictures, her eyes light up. "OH. Right. I do have a picture, don't I?" She draws out her amulet, which of course sports a sparkling hearthstone setting, but also doubles out a locket. The auburn-haired Dawn Caste pops it open. "Here."

Pebbles and Rajha will see a very lifelike depiction of a woman of fair skin and blue eyes, with orchids in her dark hair and wearing an elegantly painted robe of white, gold and pale green. "She is... was... a dancer and an orator, she was very crafty with words. When I was called Yellow Terror Dragon --" an odd name, given that Blossom doesn't look much like a terror with her relatively small stature "-- she was the beautiful face of Deheleshen, and Dragon was the stalwart warrior, though both of them could fight. But when I, er, he died, Xiulan disappeared, so I and my mentor Vikram White Crane are looking for her..." She trails off, staring at Pebbles as if hoping dearly it sounds familiar.

Dianora has long since made her way up via lift to a private platform on one of the highest rooftops in the area, where she and the flashily dressed (in velvet and innumerable orichalcum baubles) Signifier of Peaceful Victory share a bottle of champagne and chat about various things of a financial nature, and certain aspects of trade not spoken aloud of in respectable circles. Thus their conversation appears to be rather intimate on the outside, though they do not share more than chaste kisses and whispered words.

Her assistants, meanwhile, are busy writing notes, keeping records, or monitoring numbers via Resplendent Personal Assistant. Others come and go from the platform, and are on hand to accept notes and jade coin from discreet visitors, or - for those with the power and means - a hard mote for instant transfers. A shrewd eye would assume the betting pool for the races is largely in Dianora's control, though she is negotiating something significant with Signifier as well, one of the largest names in aerial racing in the Blessed Isle...

The updated list for the races goes up on a large liquid blue jade and moonsilver monitor set up at the Emporium of Aerial Conveyance, bright and large enough to be read from afar. "Races will begin after the ADF Demonstration, in one hour!" calls out the cloud people manning the signup booth.

Basic
(OOC: won't be played out as no PCs signed up for it)

Medium
Atmadja Kigal-Usha
Edged Blossom
Goldfinch Altair
Five White Pebbles
Rajha

Expert
Desus
Idiori
Marek Uthar
Wave Crashing Against the Rocks
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:38, Mon 12 Oct 2009.

"Hmm, this picture is very familiar somehow.  But I'm sure I've never seen this person before.  Perhaps I've met some of her descendants, or saw a reincarnation of her and that's tickling my memory." Pebbles decides, pulling a small camera out of her pocket.  She snaps off a copy of the locket.  "I'll put the word out to hunt for this person, or the rest of that story, but there's no telling if anybody else has heard it."

"Well, I guess that's good enough," says Edged Blossom to Pebbles, feeling slightly relieved someone is taking interest in her story. "Thanks. I suppose I should try asking over in the Pavilion, but I don't know... all those people look kinda..." She peers at Desus out of the corner of her eye, then returns her attention to Pebbles and Rajha.

"I mean, not that I'm scared or anything." The young Dawn puffs up her chest. She does look like she can use that daiklave of hers, at least. "It's just kinda out of my league, I guess? And Crane is always telling me to be careful with my elders."

"So I guess we're all competing in the race. Good luck! And, er, no hard feelings however it turns out?"

"Naw, there's nothing wrong with a good healthy competition.  Good luck to you too." Pebbles answers.  "I'll be interested in seeing how that flying board works for you, I almost got one before I decided on the wings I'm using instead."

On cue with the announcements about the demonstration, the loud roar of powerful engines can be heard from the launch area on the ground, amplifying as if coming towards the crowds at great speed. The sound raises for a moment longer, and finally, its source shows itself - a formation of Artimisia class fighters, flying in perfect diamond formation, passes majestically above the Festival grounds. Even at this speed, it is easy to admire the sleek and smooth design of the Anthegenian fighters, their graceful shapes soaring through the skies with agility and poise.

Six fighters make up the formation, and those in the crowd familiar with the ADF at all immediately recognize Anthegenian's Ace Team: Blackjack Squadron, led by ADF Air Marshall Iblis Sanguinus. Some people in the crowd seem to point out, however, that the Blackjacks number five, not six, and thus the identity of the mysterious 'sixth wing' that takes up the rear of the formation leads to some excited speculation among enthusiasts and fans of the team.

The squadron warms up the crowd with a few simply turns above the festival grounds, circling the area a few times like great birds of prey to the cheering of the attendance. And it is then, after one last sharp turn that brings the diamond formation flying straight towards Princess Sophia's platform, that the airshow truly begins.

Raising high into the air, the diamond splits into two lines of three at breakneck speed, before spiraling towards the ground in a dizzying display of piloting skills. As they do so, the essence engines' exhausts let out streams of crimson colored dust, tracing graceful lines against the pale blue sky. In perfect synchronicity, the six planes start to roll while diving towards the ground, giving the red trails following them the appearance of twirling ribbons falling beautifully towards the earth.

Before the planes reach too close to the ground, they pull back up as one sharply, arranging in an inverted 'V' formation surrounding Air Marshall Sanguinus before passing the festival grounds and looping around, returning quickly to their show space. As they do so, the squadron tightens their formation to the point where the crafts are almost touching one another, to gasps and excited squeals from the attendance. Breaking away to a safer distance, the pilots then engage in an impressive game of musical chairs, changing places withing the formation without breaking its form or structure - sometimes, the crafts seem to pass mere inches from one another, and yet the routine seems so well-oiled and practiced that there is not even a speck of hesitation in their maneuvers.

For the coming minutes, the ships raise and fall and dance into the air, coloring the festival skies in multiple colors and hues, tracing figures as if painting with the immense azure as their canvas. Rolling and breaking and spiraling at dizzying speeds, the Artimisia squadron seem to push the limits of their very crafts, veritable sky acrobats expressing the true freedom and incomparable euphoria that flight brings.

To finish their breathtaking demonstrations, the squadron breaks into two groups again, flying apart from one another while releasing deep red smoke into the air - tracing an immense, triumphant 'V' above the festival grounds. Those familiar with Anthegeninan history would recognize this display as the same one the ADF showcased centuries ago, on the day Ark Primavera was officially decommissioned after its last successful campaign, and the founders ordered their pilots to trace the great 'V' of Victory for all to see - the moment to venerable Ark ceased to be a military ship, and became the city of Anthegenia.

The moment bears particular meaning for those who followed Iblis' career as well: he was part of the original formation on that blessed day, the youngest member of Anthegenia's Ace Squadron flying rear position among the ADF's greatest. It holds a certain nostalgic feeling, as if the once rookie turned Air Marshall leads his squadron in a heartfelt tribute to those who have come and gone in service above Anthegenian skies.

With the majestic 'V' still in the skies, the Artimisia tumble downwards, and then shift their form as one - the graceful ships changing shape into their sleek warstrider forms. Slowing their descent while standing shoulder to shoulder, the warstrider team stops in front of Sophia's platform where Vanileth stays - and then, as one, execute one final, heartfelt and respectful salute for the God that makes their presence possible.

The upper levels and airspace of the Festival grounds are full to bursting. Balconies are filled with cheering crowds and squealing groups of fans numbering in the thousands, impressed by the air show and charged with anticipation for the upcoming Races.

"WE LOVE YOU IBLIS~!" shouts members of Marshal's fan club, many who've abandoned their booth for a chance to see Blackjack Squadron from above, wearing their own fan-made replicas of the ADF Air Force uniform. Kazei Atmadja, passing by the fans in her snug crimson-and-orange flight suit, remarks on their shouts of devotion with a smirk: "Hey, you can look but you can't touch."

Meanwhile, clouds of Anansi and Desus fangirls, still floating by the power of Mitsumi's spell, scramble for space on platforms and bridges, joining the rush toward the best views of the upcoming competition.

"Look, look," says Anansi Club President Mira, still bounding with energy and enthusiasm. "I think I got a good view of him again! The Lord-Captain's returning to the Invierna!" She pulls her friends toward the edges of the flying spell's effect, straining to get a better glimpse. "I-I'm getting ill..." mumbles a faintly green Elmira, and Myra says, "Let's just land. We've still got our tickets for Gale's Transport, remember??"

"Good idea, Myra!" Mira enthuses, and once again poor Elmira and Myra find themselves all but dragged along to the nearest skybridge. The only airship transport still taking tickets has a line that winds through three more bridges... but Mira is not one to be discouraged.

Next to the floating Emporium tents, an air elemental announcer starts to give out some preliminary information about the races, his voice amplified to cut through the chatter of the crowds. Apparently the three levels of races will commence simultaneously. The Medium race will be held in midair, and require navigating a course including rings and various obstacles for a greater level of complexity. The Expert Race course will actually be held below Anthegenia, in a series of treacherous canyons reserved for this very event, challenged by strict altitude guidelines and a higher level of danger from maneuvering tight tunnels, sharp turns and 'other surprises'.

As the excitement for the aerial demonstration starts to die down, the race contestants are called to arrive with their flight artifact to their respective starting platforms, labeled by difficulty.

<From the Pavilion>

Mattel, being the awseome lunar he is, leaped on a balcony from the platform. From there he jumped to a bridge suspended by whatever means, then to another balcony, and then a passing aircraft. He repeated this process until he noticed his newest friends. Taking the steps and measures to assure he was on a bridge that connected to the levitating platform the fan club had found themseves on.

Finding himself in the mix of shouting fans of festival, Mattel used what he could to remain hidden from the fan club as he shifted into his human form. Making his way from the bridge to the platform he sqeezed in and with a wave and a smile he looked at them all.

"Hi Mira and everyone else." Flashing his most dashing smile he continued. "The view from here is great. I'm so glad I came out. This is so awesome." And just like that... he was one of them. "GO LORD CAPTAIN! Kick ass!"

Breathing hard, Wave felt a surge of elation at having pulled off the display without a hitch. Iblis for all his bluff was an incredibly dedicated teacher and when it came to formations she found herself gaining a blossoming respect for the man. Especially when a single misstep would have had her craft ploughing into another at speeds enough to turn both into essence infused fireballs of burning metal. Something that probably even she couldn't have survived, or at least in any state to get to her race.

Speaking of which, she was needed already and didn't have time to stow the craft completely away or wait to be detached from the Warstriders straps with gentle care. As they hold the salute she flicks open the communications.

"I've got a race to attend all, but it was a pleasure. I'll be sure to return for celebrations after and I'll try make up my absence with a few extras and finally giving out a new name. Wish me luck, I may well need it." Flexing her muscles she finishes the salute and turns with the rest to clear the platform and return to the hangars, but to the surprise of a fair few she breaks formation once people start to get ready to watch the races landing with a stamp on one of the platforms held in spare, only a few people who had flight artifacts enjoying the free space on it. Wriggling out of the straps she releases the locks on the Warstriders faceplate and has it slowly open, gripping the edge to slide out and stand on Artimisia's shoulder.

"Keep people off it" she says to some of the guards watching the crowds, her flight suit shimmering and de-tangling into a crimson and orange outfit made entirely of shifting, long bands of pure essence managing to conceal as well as a full length dress but in a mesmerising display. Keeping the colours only seemed a fair repayment for causing them a little hassle and it'd let people finally get a look at the sixth. A deep breath and her crystalline wings spread out from underneath the shifting patterns, the glowing golden shards illuminating her with a halo of light and powering her off into the sky. Darting towards the starting blocks of the Expert Race she silently prayed for the fortitude to make it through the race, the competition was going to be fierce and the scales biased against her but victory had been snatched from far more dire a disadvantage. She could do it, if she only had the courage to see it through.

Landing on the Expert platform ablaze with essence, you'd have had to be blind to miss her the wings curling around her and then unfurling up, ready to send her into a pounce. The Fury of the Tides the Daiklaive on her back that never left her, rang out with a soft note of anticipation sensing that a battle was soon near and eager to finally be put to use in something resembling a challenge. She couldn't even think of losing right now, shielding her will in self confidence and staring out down the start of the track towards the tunnels below.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:18, Wed 14 Oct 2009.

"Omigosh Mattel! You made it back to us!" gasps Mira when Mattel appears seemingly out of nowhere. She joins in the renewed cheering with the other Anansi fangirls(and guys) when the Lord-Captain and a small group of Exalts fly out to meet his famous ship.

There's ooohs and ahhhs all over, not just on their bridge but all throughout the upper levels, as celebrants get a closer look at some of the best airships in the Realm and beyond, taking off again to position themselves on the outskirts of the race tracks. It's more complicated than it looks on the outside, as signal towers and communications officers (or, in the most pricey models, advanced AIs) coordinate ship movement so as to avoid any unfortunate collisions.

Mira eagerly pulls Mattel into the line between herself and Myra, ignoring the resulting protests. "We're gonna try to get into the last public airship taking off. Not sure we'll have much luck though." She sighs wistfully at the glittering shape of the Invierna. "I wish I could afford just one flight with the Lord-Captain..."

A nearby Desus fan with long brown hair scoffs, "Who cares about him? He's not even in the races. Lord Desus would wipe the floor with him, anyways!"

"Oh yeah? Care to say that to my face?" Mira challenges, elbowing Mattel to join in.

Elmira hangs on to the railing trying to ignore her fear of heights. "Who's he with, who's the Lord-Captain with?" she asks anxiously, while Myra fiddles with a pair of binocular lenses. "Ooooo, over there's where the contestants are gathering!" She points at where Wave has just alighted onto the Expert platform, then focuses on Anansi's group. "Well Elmy, I don't know who all of them are, but that's the Eminent Weaver, Thalia. And there's another one with a parasol... wait I know this one... Lady Peregrine Altair!"

"Aw... no! L-Let me see!" Elmira's request is complicated by the fact she has to hold on with only ONE hand to use the binoculars. That and the line for the last airship is starting to shove on. "Get moving!!" shouts a curt voice at the end of the line.

"You honor us, Shogun." Comes Iblis' voice, coming out through the Artimisia's voice amplifier system, while the warstrider executes a smooth bow for Vanileth. "But I'm real shy, you know? Besides, it's all the better part of showmanship - I'm sure it wouldn't look as dazzling if people saw it all the time. Gotta keep our cards close to our chest, right? And then, when it's time, we'll just show people just how well Anthegenian Airmen can fly."

The Firebrand straightens itself once more, and resumes its salute before pulling back from the platform. "I'm honored and flattered by the praise though, Shogun Vanileth. I'm doing what I'm doing because of you, so you can always count on my support and prayers. I might not show up much, but you'll certainly keep hearing from me." And with that last statement, the squadron starts to pull back, Iblis breaking out of his salute to indicate to the rest of the Blackjack to break off and head back to base. "Thanks a lot, guys. You gave it your all, and I can't hope for a better team. You too, Sergeant... And good luck in the race." Iblis says as Wave breaks away, and has the Firebrand make a short, loose salute for her departure.

With that last statement, Blackjack Squadron breaks formation, the warstriders changing back to their warbird forms to fly back towards the base. Iblis does not yet back home, however - instead, he flies the Firebrand right next to the area where his supporters have gathered, coming out of the ship to personally thank the dedicated fans. Removing his helmet, the Air Marshall shakes hands and speaks greetings with a warm smile on his lips, looking grateful for the supporters' presence.

The contestants start convening at their respective locations.

Expert Race

Marek is already there with his orichalcum warstrider, Wings of Gold. He seems fully focused on giving the glorious machine a last minute tuneup, not so much as acknowledging Wave's arrival.

A second racer lands on the platform next to Wave, flying in without fanfare on a moonsilver Windblade forged into the shape of an eagle with wings outstretched. She is obviously female, with golden brown hair and hawklike eyes, wearing a sleeveless shirt in an olive green shade and leather breeches just snug enough to show off her toned legs. A scarf is carefully wrapped around her nose, mouth and neck to protect her from the wind, and a fleece-lined flight jacket is wrapped around her hips by the sleeves.

Desus is not yet present, but the man's reputation precedes him. Whole crowds wait with bated breath for him to reemerge from the First Rule of Conquest, revealing what fabulous artifact he will ride for the competition.

Medium Race

"Race you there!" Edged Blossom suddenly blurts out Rajha and Pebbles, her would-be friends and now competitors. She leaps onto her own Windblade (daiklave-converted, like any good thrillseeking Dawn) and zooms up to the platform for the medium-level racers.

The auburn-hair's expression is the epitome of delight. This will be fun! And for once she can get away from those naggy, nitpicky Terrestrial aides, too. After all, they're not competing, so they're not allowed on the platform.

As for Atmadja, her arrival is momentarily delayed by Iblis arriving personally to greet his fans...

---

OOC: Besides the other NPCs we need Goldfinch, Pebbles and Rajha. (edit-I wrote Rana there, TOTALLY by accident) Marek is away til the weekend but I will still have to start the races by 20-ish hours from now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:35, Thu 15 Oct 2009.

The young woman with hair like a golden eagle's feathers lowers her scarf briefly.

"Hello there," she greets Wave informally, with a recognizable Southern accent. "You're quite the sight, Lady Wave. Unless you're Professor Uthar, though I have my doubts..." She glances at the sorcerer-engineer so engrossed in his warstrider. Then she unties the fleece-lined flight jacket wrapped around her hips by the sleeves, donning it unhurriedly. "Though I hope those pretty crystals give you more of an advantage than beauty, given our competition."

Once the Southerner has her jacket buckled on, leather gloves pulled on and moonsilver goggles propped atop her head, she extends her hand to Wave. Facing her fully, Wave can see that her eyes are a light hazel brown with strikingly dark pupils.

"I'm Idiori of Tamar-Kas. Chosen of Luna and Silver Strategist. I'll be enrolling at the Academy fairly soon, so we'll see a great deal of each other, one way or another." Idiori's smile is guileless and genuine, and her handshake (if accepted) confident and strong.

"Am I late?" Looking vaguely... ruffled, his Windblade banks to a stop next to the waiting Dawn, hovering in place above the platform. "Ah... Goldfinch Altair, son of Peregrine, who's currently floating somewhere above me and probably picking up every word I say." He'd wave, but a tiny bit of him just didn't want to offer that possible satisfaction. Ahhh, paranoia.

He grinned. It was... oddly tired. "Admittedly, though, it looks like the other racers are even later than me. Any idea where they are?"

Edged Blossom waves at the other Solar energetically, still balancing on her own Windblade in anticipation of the race. "Hi, Goldfinch. I'm Edged Blossom of Deheleshen. Oh, you're Peregrine Altair's son? I ... I think I'm supposed to be surprised or something, but I forget why," she admits, sheepish but unapologetic.

"Oh the others? I left 'em behind down there." the rather athletic looking young woman gestures vaguely in the direction she came from. "I think there's one more, I have no idea who or where she is... she's the only Terrestrial on the list, though." A shrug shows she's not that concerned.

Unlike certain other Fan Clubs, Iblis' fans seem to have more of a geek factor than a squealing fangirl factor. Many of them hold up their custom painted Artimisia models (or for the true geek, various Artimisia predecessors dating from centuries ago) and wearing AADF insignia, caps or uniforms (not official ones, but hand-made and in some cases very close to real). Many of them, he even knows by name.

The boldest fans congratulate him for a job well done, and him advice and opinion on various airship related topics, the current requirements for entering the Anthegenian Air Defense Force, his judgment of one of their military-themed handicrafts, and so on.

Newer fans are still quite star-struck, though. They give him handkerchiefs and flight manuals and even articles of clothing to sign. Some blow him shy kisses, and others shake his hand looking awestruck in the 'I'll never wash this hand again' fashion.

"Thank you for inspiring us," they say. "Thank you for taking the time." Some pass on pictures to him of their families, of ancestors who were pilots. For these people, meeting him is an emotional time. Iblis has seen many generations of mortal fans become pilots themselves, have families, children... and pass on. He's even seen a few Terrestrial generations by now. His fans may be underdogs, but they are extremely loyal due to the personal attention he gives. They also span a wider range of ages, from children to retired mortal men.

Atmadja, caught between rushing over to meet Iblis herself, and the crowd that suddenly surges to surround him, manages to snag a spot at the Air Marshal's side.

"Well, you're popular aren't you," the Fire Aspect remarks, smiling up at Iblis. Honestly she's quite humbled and at times surprised by some of the homages from the 'true fans'. It's a little bit awkward being stuck in the middle of it, but she mostly thinks it's cute. "I suppose I should say 'sir', but I'm about to race, and I'd rather have a kiss than a salute. A little bit of luck is worth the scandal!"

She gives some of the lovestruck but disappointed fans in the vicinity a look that says, none for you! Hey, she had to keep some of him to herself.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:26, Thu 15 Oct 2009.

"Are... are you, now?" Blink. "Any rumours of my death are... probably exaggerated. I hope. Are you somehow familiar with my mother?" Not that he'd be surprised, per se. Peregrine knew everything and everyone. "I'd be surprised if you were secretly my long-lost sister, but...  not much else will, otherwise. Unless you're my niece." Ha. And entirely possible, too.

"Truth be told, this'll be my first time taking part in this sort of thing, and I'm almost feeling a little nervous." Grin. Sure, he was pretty familiar with horses, but they generally stayed on the ground. Up and down had always been limited to "under that branch" or "over that ditch", not "over that canyon" and "over that tree." Or mountain. "One gets the feeling that crashing here will be a lot more painful then just falling off a horse."

Pebbles flaps to a stop nearby.
"Looks like you beat me to the starting line.  I guess that means it'll be my turn in the actual race, right?" she suggests coyly.