Log; Ongoing

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

When; May 1, all day
Rating; PG? PG13? Medieval sports violence?
Characters; Open, but characters with ill intentions beware of Narnia's zero tolerance policy.
Summary; Lucy's birthday celebration begins late morning with a tournament till sunset and general merrymaking afterward into the evening. Presents not required but probably a perk.
Log;

[ooc: "It's a field!" For more references this is the poly_tldr tourney post, this is the 1st IC tourney post, and this is the 2nd IC tourney post! Consolidating into one log instead of two, so label subject lines accordingly whether it's "Match: Spy vs. Spy" or "Spectator~" or "Evening Party: Open" etc. etc. Have fun!]

Comments

Tournament Prep

[noflatterer.livejournal.com]

Bree had been up early, by human standards. For a horse, the pale hours of morning were the ideal time to procure a delicious breakfast. He often thought it a shame other creatures couldn't enjoy the sweet taste of new grass, but though it was the best grass of the year, he ate in moderation. When he had been a colt, Bree's dam had cautioned him not to eat too much of the fresh greenery, or he'd make himself sick, and she'd been quite serious.

There was a great deal to be done today, and Bree was happy to do it. After all, how often did one have the honor of helping the queen celebrate her birthday?

[ooc: Placeholder. I won't be back until the afternoon or possibly evening. ♥]

[laprunminta.livejournal.com]

Hari nosed around the field long before the appointed time, wandering here and there while her horse did much the same, though in opposite directions, neither so tethered to the other as to not allow exploring. Spotting Bree, she headed in his direction, tilting her head at the Talking Horse. Having helped Lucy remake a saddle for the event she chose to participate in, she had already met the good horse before, and having nothing else to do at the moment, thought to say hello.

"Hello," she nodded politely, in the way that was as unobtrusive as possible.

~Spectator~ || Open

[basstardchuck.livejournal.com]

Chuck wasn't entirely sure if showing up after the night of drinking was such a good idea, but he made a mistake of promising he'll be there. And a lot of people were expecting to see him here. Starting with Blair and Caspian, to Dawn and Jake. And maybe some entertainment would help take his mind of... things. He was in the City, he couldn't get much further from New York than that. So maybe this was his perfect escape...

Meanwhile he stood at the edge of the field, in a white jacket and pants (http://img517.imageshack.us/img517/105/41542788.jpg), wearing sunglasses to hide the bags under his eyes. He sipped coffee from a large cup and smiled to himself. He could taste the rum in it, Irish Coffee they called it. He figured that this alone should be able to get him through the day.

He leaned against the railing that separated the area for spectators from the ground where all the combat took place. The event turned out to be really impressive and Chuck felt like he was in a movie about knights. He half expected a dragon to show up.

~Spectator~ || Open

[lovingmybamfgun.livejournal.com]

Mickey was getting used to the crutches, though it did take him longer to get to his destination. When he reached the field, practically all packed up in bandages, Chuck was the first person he recognised.

"Hey," he said casually.

~Spectator~ || Open

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

Dawn flopped dramatically against the railing, sighing, all gigantic sunglasses and cute summer dress and yet more heels. At least these ones are wedges instead of spikes. She might still be half in Georgina mode.

"Kill me now. Since when is partying supposed to last until I should be at home, eating breakfast?"

She looked sadly down at her feet. "My feet hurt. So very very badly. I think they might be considering seceding from my body in protest."

Turning her head to face Chuck, Dawn smiled ruefully. "Also, hi. Morning, Chuck."

~Spectator~ || Open - Later than above...

[parallel-blond.livejournal.com]

Once Mickey was gone, Jake made his way over to where Chuck was standing. He wasn't as hung over as Chuck was, but he was feeling just a little under the weather.

"'morning."

~Spectator~ || Sometime after unhorsing Mr. High King

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"Hello. I thought I saw you," said Caspian, jogging up in his leather and metal after leading Destrier to his stall. Oops, he kept a good two or three steps away from Chuck, so as not to get dirt on his white clothes. Caspian here was a little bit covered in it, particularly on his boots and here and there on his face, not to mention his hands which had been sitting inside gloves for hours, gloves now tucked under his belt. "What do you think," he asked brightly. He had a reason to be cheerful, he won his tilting match against High King Peter after all.

Match: Open for Anyone Who Wants To Win

[not-so-smooth.livejournal.com]

Sam felt ridiculous. He was pretty sure that he looked ridiculous too. He always thought if you put on a suit of armor then you'd feel like a knight, like you were invincible. Instead, he just felt uncomfortable. Of course, he had only been learning to joust for about a month, so maybe when you got good you felt better about it.

The horse under his feet shifted nervously, obviously able to sense Sam's inexperience with this sort of thing.

"Okay, come one Witwicky," he said to himself. "Just ride along that rail thing, point the big stick at the other guy, and then get knocked on your ass."

[ooc: Sam is basically tilting fodder. Anyone who wants to go against him for an easy win is welcome to.]

Spectator: Open

[lionesscouchant.livejournal.com]

Lucy is sitting in a manner that can be hardly called sitting and that can hardly be called ladylike. She bounces up and down and up and down over and over as she watches.

She loves tournaments. She loves the competition and she loves the party afterwards and she especially loves how it brings everyone together. She likes the challenges and watching people overcome them, or succumb to them.

She's so happy that she'll smile at everyone. She considers herself the luckiest girl in the world right now.

Spectator: Open

[silk_for_calde]

Though he's been quiet on the Network since coming back to the City, Silk is hardly going to miss Lucy Pevensie's birthday celebration. He's in much better shape now, though he still carries a staff and leans on it as he walks-- the result of his broken ankle never having been properly set.

He makes a beeline for the young lady of the hour, waving as soon as he judges himself near enough to be visible.

}{we were kings and queens

[oshutup.livejournal.com]

Say this comes after tent pegging, tilting, and everything else they were probably involving themselves in by way of personal participation. Say this is later, but not so later as to being the actual 'party' portion of the day. Say that the High King finds the Valiant watching the remaining challenges. Say that he wishes he could provide that which isn't his to provide--the brother gone missing--but that he would like to do all he can to make absolutely sure everything else goes as well as possible. Should he have, as protocol, as the act of consciously doing, found the great lion and requested his presence? He wonders, walking over to his youngest sister, if she offered invitation herself.

The day provides a dappled sky of blue backing and white-gold light, filtering between clean clouds like a brush of spring across the green of the field and glittering eyes of upturned faces--a good day to celebrate a good person.

"Hello, you," he greets, informally as ever, but with the same sort of ease he leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head, brushing some strands absently back behind her ear. "You look happy," he remarks, and it pleases him to be able to say so. His hands remain behind him. When he escaped the ongoing events to retrieve the surprisingly well wrapped gift is anyone's guess. The box itself is bigger than what is inside by a fair amount, to give room for things that one would perhaps expect Peter not to think of--decorative tissue paper for example--and also to further disguise what it might be. Guessing games are fun but he would hope for it to be a surprise until she just knows what it is by opening it.

Re: Spectator: Open

[punchlikeagirl.livejournal.com]

Kara had really wanted to compete in the tournament but she knew there was no way she could really tone down her abilities so as to make things fair. So instead she was content to just watch other people fight each other. Maybe she could find a cute knight to root for the entire time. That might make it more fun. Not only that, but she had a present for the birthday girl.

Carrying a round, tube like package in her hands she made her way to the excited little girl.

"Happy birthday, Lucy," Kara said, smiling at the young girl. She thought maybe about bowing but Lucy never seemed to care about that sort of thing too much before. "I got you a present."

[ooc: The present is one of the singing flowers found on Krypton in a pot, it looks kind of like an orchid.]

Spectator: Open

[primrosella.livejournal.com]

It takes Rosella a little while, upon arrival, to track Lucy down, but eventually she manages it. And she's really rather eager to meet the birthday girl, too; Caspian has always spoken very highly of Lucy, after all.

She shuffles her bow around, out of the way, and retrieves a small wrapped box from one of the pockets in her skirt. It isn't anything too extravagant--she's never even spoken with Lucy, after all--but it just wouldn't seem right to her, attending a birthday celebration without bringing a gift as well.

Smiling, she walks over and dips into a slight curtsey. "Hello, I think you must be Lucy? Happy birthday!"

when trees dance, it must be a very, very country dance indeed

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Sometime after all the sporting and bruising and bragging, Caspian finds Lucy's side under the late spring setting sun, a small wrapped box in his--washed, thank you--hand. There's a flower garland on his head and a few ribbons tied around his arms despite being out of his heavier armor. No point in winning matches if you aren't going to wear your prizes proudly right? It's a good evening for traditional clothing too, the tunics and breeches and boots he is used to unlike jeans and t-shirts.

"Hello," Caspian greets with a smile, "happy birthday, if I haven't already said it." He has, probably more than twice, or thrice. "And this is for you," he offers the little gift to her.

Spectator: Open

[noflatterer.livejournal.com]

Bree draws near with his head dipped low, both in respect and so Lucy won't have to look up at him.

"Are you enjoying the tourney, your Majest?"

[ooc: Apologies in advance if I'm flaky. Having trouble logging today.]

Re: Spectator: Open; Sometime Before He Passes Out

[thefutureking.livejournal.com]

Arthur was in a bit of a rush to get ready for the tournament, but first he had a gift to deliver to a very special birthday girl. The bulky present had been wrapped and rewrapped to get it to satisfaction, although looking at it you would really thing the wrapping job was rather sad. Arthur had found the stove easier to master than the art of wrapping. Still, it was for Lucy, so he had tried his best. He had also thought long and hard about what to get her and was rather pleased with the result. Of course, it might mean more to him than it would to her and then it would just be awkward.

"Excuse me," Arthur said as he approached her. "But I believe there's a beautiful young girl here who's having a birthday and I have a present for her."

Spying Spectator || Open

[neverberid.livejournal.com]

Nimueh had heard about the tournament -- the entire City was abuzz with excitement. She too felt a certain thrill, although not for the same reason as everyone else.

Arthur was here in the City. She had seen him on the Network, and Merlin too. The arrogant prince would no doubt participate in any tournament, and his trusted servant would never be far from his side. This would be the perfect opportunity to observe them and find their weaknesses, and then...

A small, vicious smile spread across her face.

Spying Spectator || Open

[lovingmybamfgun.livejournal.com]

It was rather difficult to walk with crutches on the grass and before he knew it, Mickey slipped and bumped into a young woman.

"I’m sorry, really am," he apologised.

Match: Open

[child-radical.livejournal.com]

Huey had awaited this day for awhile. Even though it was outwardly to be a celebration for the birthday of Caspian's young friend, for himself the competition was to test how far his own training had taken him. The losses to Azula, Scorpioworm, and the Major's soldier still rung fresh in his mind more than any other he had been subjected to aside from Luna.

The boy tapped his choice of weapon, a staff, against his shoulder as he closed his eyes as he prepared himself to go up whomever it was he was to match up against.

"Focus." he muttered to himself silently.

Match || Caspian & Kate

[soulofocean.livejournal.com]

After wiping sweat from her brow, Umi hefted her rapier and stood on the open field. She'd caught a few surprised glances from the start. Sure nobody expected a slender fourteen year old female to survive the first matches: she had noticed the glances had increased after she'd dispatched that first wave of opponents without much problem. With a little pout she stood firm and waited for the next challenge. At least she'd won herself some respect. Nothing annoyed her more than people who underestimated others because of appearances.

"So who's next in line." She wondered, more to herself than anyone in particular. Umi had been having a wonderful time. It had been so long since she had competed, and ground combat in itself was quite like fencing. Entering the tourney had been a great idea. If only Fuu and Hikaru were there to cheer for her...

She turned to the other side of the field and spied on the tilting competition wistfully. "Some other day." She sighed. No use entering a game she didn't stand a chance to win. Perhaps after Caspian had seen himself through the huge task of making a decent rider out of her.

After Match ||

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

There were words that could describe their match, tiresome being one of them but challenging being another. Umi impressed Caspian with her speed and grace, tools which assisted her to victory. He was taller, certainly, weighed more, and handled his sword less lightly than she did. All of these things contributed to a close fight and ultimately his loss. He took it honorably and at the end he bowed to her with a gentleman's grace before sheathing his sword and offering Umi his hand.

"Well done," Caspian bid.

Spectator // open! :D

[sweethypatia.livejournal.com]

A tournament! Hypatia had rarely seen the likes of this recreational activity, though they had been common in her time. It seemed frivolous, really. Had they nothing better to do than prance around on prissy horses?

She huffed in an aggravated manner and adjusted the dress that not only did she look completely uncomfortable in, was a good two sizes two big on her 5'3" frame at least. Its sleeves hung down inches past her fingertips and she had to hold bunched fabric up at her hips to escape tripping all over herself. Served her right for grabbing the nearest thing she saw,not that she could remember where she'd gotten it.

She'd at least tried for the "decency" of men. These poor women and their-- "Why, I've never worn something so uncomfortable! Awkward and restricting-- it's completely--" She grumbled, stomping over the grass and meandering through the crowed like a spoiled, angry little thing. And she was. "I hope I get to see something."

Spectator // hello there

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Inbetween matches Caspian found the time to wander around the grounds, to see who'd come to join them, who was having a good time, and of course maybe who was taking their matches too seriously. Friendly rivalry, not hostility, that was their goal for the day and so far he'd encouraged it by way of example. Now though, a young lady in an... odd ensemble, caught his attention.

"Hello," he greeted her, "I apologize if it is presumptuous of me, but you do not look pleased."

after the tourney }{ open

[oshutup.livejournal.com]

On Lucy's birthday, ideally, they would all be together. Since Edmund left they have done as well as they can, knowing he is where he ought to be, but it would be a lie to say that his absence isn't a distinct reality of every day the rest of them remain here. Yet Bree arrived not so long ago--which Peter knows makes everyone quite happy--and Reepicheep is still present--to help fashion more garlands as much as serve his usual station as a knight, it seems--and so are Susan and Caspian. In addition to these, there are all the people they have met here, and though the Just is by no means replaceable, it bears remembering that the great lion himself gave assurance, and when one wants to believe such things it can be alarmingly easy to do so.

It is a good day, both in name and technicalities such as weather that proves favorable, but in this respect Peter is not terribly surprised. As promised, after the tournament itself there began the other festivities--dancing and so on, food, and everything else. Friends abound as well as new faces carried over from the tournament--those who chose to stick around at least--and the merrymaking reflects both the general cheer and specific celebration. With dusk settling in he thinks it has all gone rather well so far and hopes it will continue to, ever aware that while wards were managed through friends and other certain beings should prevent less savory guests from appearing, that anything is possible here, and one should not get too complacent. It's best to be ready for anything.

In the meanwhile, he just stands a little off to the side of all things, keeping an eye on it all, always watching to make sure Lucy has a reason to smile. Today is hers as much as the spring's and that is, in its own way, all too fitting. Again, his eyes sweep both the crowd and periphery for the great lion, but unlike other times, he is not dismayed when he cannot find him. He is present, in his own way, whether that is somewhere here that Peter simply hasn't looked, or in the wood that somehow seems to have made itself more like Narnian forest with his coming. Or maybe that last notion is all in blue eyes that have not yet separated from that place.

Gaze falling on the Valiant again, he smiles a little absently.

Well, either way, it is a good day--good enough that it bears repeating--and watching Lucy, he thinks he sees the years not in her eyes but in the way she laughs and turns and looks at people with a directness born of age and knowing that somehow embodies the best parts of being young and growing up all at the same time.

after the tourney }{ open

[neverberid.livejournal.com]

Much to her surprise, Nimueh has rather enjoyed herself, though she has never forgotten her purpose. She had felt a thrill of fear when she saw Arthur fall -- she would have gone to his side, but Merlin was there, and shapeshifting spells took more time and effort than she had. He couldn't die, not like that. Her revenge would be meaningless.

Fortunately, he had friends to take care of him; friends that she had gotten a good look at. At the end of the tournament, she catches sight of one of them -- a very handsome young man -- standing off to the side, and she approaches him. Her entire demeanor is soft and feminine, and a little vulnerable.

Spectator // Open // any time of day is fine <33

[had_not_lived]

Neil loved every moment of this-- he'd never attended this sort of tournament before. He'd been here all day; trying to lend a hand with the setup, watching the matches, generally trying to drink it all in. This was the sort of thing that could only happen here-- an unimaginable variety of people, in mismatched arms and modes of dress, drawn together to celebrate. Friendly competition reigned. It was fantastic.

At the moment he'd wandered off on his own to give Todd some space, and to continue his exploration of the festival grounds. There were some matches he'd wanted to see, after all... and there were always new people to meet.

Spectator // Open // any time of day is fine <33

[moresake.livejournal.com]

"Neil!" she called, from practically over his shoulder. She'd seen him wandering in the crowd and took the opportunity to sneak up on him.

One might be taken aback to see her dressed for the occasion in a vaguely medieval dress. She'd been watching Clow fence and enjoying a momentary break from the kids (who were with Watanuki and Doumeki at the moment). But it was in-between matches and she had a few minutes to talk.

Anytime Post-Archery Competition | Open!

[primrosella.livejournal.com]

The tournament had been worth the wait, Rosella decided with more than a touch of satisfaction. Now that her event was over, she was free to wander and enjoy the atmosphere, without the added complication of nervousness to hinder her mood. And she had been a little nervous, really--that sort of excited nervousness of someone about to try something new and wanting to do well at it. Tournaments themselves were nothing new to her, of course, but the thought of competing in them was.

But she'd done well, and it felt good to have the satisfaction of knowing that her hard work had paid off. Daddy and Mother would've been proud of her today, she knew, and the thought of them brought a slight smile to her face. It'd make for a wonderful story to tell them all, when she finally managed to return home.

Still, for the moment, she was content to wander and watch the other matches, and see how many familiar faces she could manage to pick out of the crowds.

Anytime Post-Archery Competition | Open!

[mumbled_truth]

Todd had spent most of the day tagging around with Neil, partially because the way he behaved in large crowds was to stick close to someone he knew and partially because Neil kept dragging him around to watch one thing after another.

Eventually, they had separated, and as Neil went off to explore more on his own, Todd wandered around the edges of the crowds, quietly watching the goings-on. It wasn't too long before he spotted Rosella and walked over to say hello. Not only was this another familiar face, but, as promised, he'd watched the archery competition and had to go congratulate her.

"Rosella?"

Spectator;

[miss-waldorf.livejournal.com]

Blair was dressed to kill, as always, but today even more so. She relied on McQueen (http://i137.photobucket.com/albums/q231/ephemericon/mcqueen1.jpg) to pull together the outfit, he always had enough spine (http://i137.photobucket.com/albums/q231/ephemericon/mcqueen2.jpg) to be different. But even the dress could be outshined by those Miu Miu (http://i137.photobucket.com/albums/q231/ephemericon/39158_fr_dl.jpg) and Brian Atwoods (http://i137.photobucket.com/albums/q231/ephemericon/brianatwood.jpg). It was a boost of confidence, she told herself, nothing makes a girl feel brave like wearing a pair of red stilettos can. The fact was she felt beside herself today, but hoped that no one would notice. As her mother always said, the only thing that mattered was the face you show the world.

Her face was impeccable.

For those who noticed, there was only one thing she lacked: her ruby ring. She had given it to Arthur as a trinket for championing her. It may seem plain, but the ring was more precious to her than even her whole wardrobe. But she trusted him to win, so it would be worth it.

Only, she knew he had been injured in the fight against Major just a few days ago. She had once thought it would be romantic to have someone battle to the death for you. It sounded just like those old stories. Romeo died, sure, but he died for something exciting. Still she did not think she wanted Arthur to die for her. Now it seemed stupid. She stared at him hard, trying to catch his eyes, her brows furrowed in agitation. She had to make him stop this self-torture, it really would be the death of him.

Spectator;

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

If anyone stood out in this crowd it was Blair Waldorf, but Caspian at the moment held more concern for her actual clothing than he did for her dressed-to-kill entrance. It wouldn't do for her heels to get caught in the turf and twist her ankle... unless that was all part of her plan... Well the Telmarine wasn't going to be presumptuous about it. He trotted up to greet Blair, ribbons already tied to his arm from previous matches. He was dressed-to-kill too, literally, but his gloves were tucked under his belt and his sword sheathed. One wondered how his hair never seemed to get caught in his chainmail.

"Hello," he said enthusiastically before gracing her with a bow at the waist. Habit you see.