#tudors.event

[tudorhqs]

          TUDORHQS PRESENTS... TWO YEAR TIME JUMP.

( 1538 ––––––– )

                         HENRY IX HAS BEEN KING OF ENGLAND for just over three years, and his reign has thus far been one of moderate conflict. Religious tensions have continued to divide the young King’s land, but the blows have been minimal, and Henry and his council have managed to appease both sides to maintain a tenuous peace. Life, it seems, moves on, and the people of England find their pace under the ninth Henry’s reign. However, in the spring, an announcement is made which catches all of England by surprise, and to some, incites rage.

His Majesty, King Henry the Ninth, by the Grace of God, King of England and France, Defender of the Faith, Lord of Ireland, announces his betrothal to Her Highness Christina, the Princess of Denmark, before the eyes of God and of all the people of England.

The notion of a betrothal has been afoot for as long as anyone can remember, but the choice of bride is one that fills many with concern and others with contempt. The brides initially brought before the King were the daughters of the Catholic princes of Europe –––––– and the princess of Denmark, a Lutheran kingdom, is a momentous choice from a King who has thus far espoused Catholic ideals in his personal faith. Opponents of the match, traditional Catholics such as Thomas Howard and his faction, see the fingerprints of Thomas Cromwell and Edward Seymour all over the arrangement. It is believed that Cromwell has always favored a Protestant match, to advance his own position and views before the young King.

English Protestants take a different view, feeling that a new day is now on the horizon for their reformed faith. The divisions are stark, and in the months since the engagement, Henry’s privy council and indeed all of his court have become FRACTURED INTO FRACTIONS. 

( THE MONTH IS NOW JUNE ––––––– )

                   THE KING’S WEDDING IS NOW imminent, and more than ever lines have been drawn in Henry IX’s court. The Princess Christina and her entourage, along with a number of Danish lords, have recently arrived in England, and some fear that the Danish will try to sway England even more in their own favor before they depart. As wedding preparations are underway, the English court is more divided than it has been since Henry’s ascension, and the country holds its breath as it waits to see what may happen next.

[juandemendoza]

open

Juan was far more an observer than a participant when it came to any sort of public spectacle. He kept to himself, more than anything - always at the edge of the fray, watching silently, not at all one to take part in the courtly merriment. But that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the fun, looking across the way with a raised brow, utterly bemused by an elaborate routine happening across the way - some sort of dance put on by the players that had come for the celebration. 

“A week of festivities. Do you not find it exhausting?” He posed the question, taking a sip of his wine with eyes still trained across the room before he turned to face them properly. “Are you a great lover of the holiday? A week only for romance?” It was a mixture of diplomatic probing and genuine curiosity - testing the mood of the courtiers around him. 

[phillipofwarwick]

     “I believe you caught me in a rare form; forgive me, for I lack my usually pretty humor today. I am unable to escape apprehension before a joust.”  Philip greeted the other with a withering smile, which featured the curling of his lips into a friendly gesture, while his normally jovial eyes retained a hollow stare. He brought the glass to his lips once more, placing a great deal of faith in the liquid to steady his constitution. A restrained countenance remained steadfast as one of his greatest achievements; yet his refrained nature succeeded to nerves in the wake of his forthcoming fight. Too great a pressure seemed mounted upon his shoulders; his mountainous size demanded success, while the thought of leaving his Joanna privy to the tittering of other wives should he suffer an easy defeat, stole the air directly from his lungs. “Perhaps light conversation shall serve me better then consuming an army’s worth of wine - I beg you to sit, and let me engage your company for several minutes. Tell me, which of the festivities do you await the most? I look forward to the play most anxiously, beyond the reasoning I shall have finished my knightly duties by then.” 

[earlcflincoln]

~|~ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ! ~|~

The Earl of Lincoln was a man of good reputation, he kept his nose clean and could never be accused of getting into the ‘wrong’ things. He was also regarded by most as ‘eccentric’ and by a few more as ‘dotty’. Such gossip never seemed to have much of an effect on the man, and usually he just went about his merry way, with seemingly not a worry on his shoulders, although the truth could not be more opposite. He did after all have three daughters as well as several step children he needed to care for. 

Still, he made his appearances around court as was his duty, and such was what he was about this chill and rainy day as the castle was in full festive mode. “I dare say it will do the spirits of the court well to have some nice festivities, would you not agree?” 

[mariosavorgnano]

                                  Mario Savorgnano | Hades, Ruler of the Underworld

On a ferrous throne of obsidian bone, he awaits the river of sanguine to flow in another dead soul. He dwells the underworld with apathy’s rust, feeds the mind pomegranate and pride.

       “ I alone, I Death, am unavoidable. I alone am almighty. Not love. Not Spring. Not light. The world is here. The origins of the world. The end of the world. The heart of the circle. They can’t understand that they rule over an instant and I rule over forever. ”

[scymours-blog]

Lady Jane Seymour attending the Outdoor Festival. 

[joannawcrwick]

JOANNA OF YORK, DUCHESS OF WARWICK * /  In observing the lengthy history of Saint Valentine’s Day, the duchess elected to wear a red gown adorned with gold and pink ribbons that weave vertically throughout the front and back of the dress and comprise most of the sleeves. The low-cut bodice is embellished by the presence of ritzy and costly jewels afforded the duchess by the House of Warwick; likewise, Joanna’s gilded curls are styled low and are pinned by diamond studs that glimmer in the shine of her silver mask, sporting a faux feather. Her wrist proudly dons a covert bracelet bearing the letter ‘P’ – the initial of her beloved husband, a sentimental yet unostentatious display of fealty. However, the crowning glory of the duchess’ attire is the tiara that rests upon her head, owned by the Yorks and unseen since the days of their zenith, it has since been left to sit idle in the family’s vaults –– its resurgence is perhaps a tacit message to those who would see the Yorks return to their pitfalls.

[krisztinazapolya]

Krisztina Masquerade

[cfboleyn]

RISE LIKE A PHOENIX.

from the ashes of her mourning clothes, wings stretching out for the first time in what feels like an age, a rouge clad lady emerges from the fire surrounding her in the form or fire its self. the underskirts that can be seen at the front of the gown, part of the main staple for any tudor gown, are black in base colour but the pattern upon it is so brilliant in colour that the eye almost entirely ignores the mournful colour she is emerging from. gold and black stitching forms patterns rising in a manner akin to flames upon her torso, matching that of her skirts, with jewels decorating her square neckline in a stark contrast to the shadowy modesty which has threatened to swallow her in the time since her husband’s death. of course it is too early for a widow of only a few months to return to her usual attire but under the guise of her scarlet mask she is free to be whomever she wishes for the evening; though there is a rather telling clue to her identity hanging around her neck. a line of pearls supporting a golden ‘B’ once made up anne’s most treasured piece of jewellery - a gift given to her by her mother before she travelled to the netherlands - and now they are visible for admiration once more upon the fair skin of anne’s neck and bare collarbones with a new lease of life, much like anne herself. 

dark curls fall upon her back as they would upon a young, unmarried woman with a pearl lined french hood holding any and all stray hairs away from covering porcelain features. the hood is smaller than that worn for day to day use, made in the same fabric and pattern as her bodice, and lacks in the usual veil to allow her hair to flow freely down to her waist. both her hood and mask should signify modesty, a desire to be seen as reserved, and yet anne manages to use both in a display of vanity and has no wishes to remain unseen by any means.

[annxcromwell]

Anne Masquerade Costume | Guinevere

[gildedstewart]

The Raven Queen, a look by Princess Arabella. 

[tudorhqs]

12 MARCH, 1536 began like any other Sunday at court – courtiers rose from their beds, dressed in their finest, and began a noble entourage to Hampton Court’s chapel to relish this week’s High Mass. Little seemed amiss at first and the mass itself ensued without a hitch; it was only toward the end of the service did whispers begin to circulate and travel to those in attendance. The King had failed to appear. Assuming His Majesty received a private service, the day went on. He was not seen attending any meals and received no visitors. Later that evening, the King’s absence began to give rise to concern amongst his inner-circle. He had never been known to avoid the ardor of his court and his continued absence was abnormal in the extreme.

On Monday the 13th, the King’s absence prevailed; he was absent from all activities at court, allowing rumors to ferment and spread throughout his court. No public statement was issued at this time, fueling the anxiety that gripped each faithful courtier in attendance. Undaunted by charges of treason, some boldly claim that the king has been struck down and rendered lame by illness – consumed by the pox that so often claimed his father, riddled with lesions and scars – thus awakening worries concerning the spread of disease in the palace. Other, less stalwart supporters of the crown, spread talk that the poisoner whose handiwork had killed Sir Francis Bryan has returned and this time made his mark on his intended target. Yet others believe that the young king has fallen victim to a disease that has itself woven into the Tudor bloodline. They whisper that the King has collapsed into a nervous fit – and with it, his privy council and sovereignty.

With little confirmation as to what has occurred, none are certain of the King’s state – physical or otherwise – but an air of unease has descended over the Palace, and in the court of an unmarried King who has no heir, the very existence of the Tudor dynasty could rest in the balance of HEARSAY, FEAR, & DOUBT.

THIS EVENT IS SET TO BEGIN ON SATURDAY, DECEMBER 8TH, AT 12:00 AM EST!

PLEASE CLICK BELOW FOR MORE INFORMATION REGARDING DATES, TASKS & PARTICIPATION.

TIMELINE

In-game, this event will take place beginning on March 13th. More will be revealed about the following days in further plot updates.

Out of the game, the plot event will begin on December 8th at 12:00 AM EST. Since it is a plot drop event, there is no end date.

PARTICIPATION

Tag all starters relating to this plot event with tudors.start and tudors.event004.

Between 12:00 AM EST on December 8 and 12:00 AM on December 9, you may post starters related to the event without being required to respond to others. However, we of course recommend it as courtesy. After this time frame, usual starter rules regarding replies will apply!

Bear in mind that your characters will not have any idea of what has truly become of the King, but feel free to let theories run rampant! Rumors spread quickly at court, to be sure, and there could be any number of ideas on people’s minds. Feel free to take this any direction you might like - though remember that in Tudor times, speculating with others about the King’s death (even out of concern) was considered treason! It’s not a matter characters would discuss lightly, especially not in the open.

Updates will come out to reflect what has happened to the King and other results of the plot, so be sure to keep your eyes open for them!

TASKS

&& any and all tasks are optional, but we do highly encourage members to participate. Tag all of your task posts with tudors.task for everyone to see! Since these tasks are a bit darker than usual, we do encourage members to remember to tag for potentially triggering content and/or use read mores, to be considerate toward other members should upsetting topics arise.

OPTION ONE: DARKEST DAYS

Write a self-para or use some other creative way of describing a difficult time in your character’s past. It could be a lost opportunity, the death of a loved one, or another challenge they’ve had to overcome. How has that moment shaped them into who they are now? Use this as a challenge to explore the difficult parts of your character’s past and how those challenges have affected them. 

OPTION TWO: FEARS OF THE FUTURE

No matter how invincible you may pretend to be, everyone has fears - those possibilities that truly haunt and terrify us. We want to see you represent your character’s greatest fears in any medium you like - get creative with this! It also doesn’t have to be limited to one thing, if that’s where muse leads you. This task is really about getting into the minds of your characters!

[camelliaxaltier]

Camellia Masquerade

[catherinepcrr]

CATHERINE PARR, MARCHIONESS OF NORTHAMPTON * /  Catherine’s striking attire consists of an emerald green ball-gown, accompanied by black and gold trim and embellishments, velveteen bell sleeves and a damask underdress that is visible within the triangular parting at her waist. Apt for an occasion of such sumptuousness, glimmering jewels rest upon the prominent hollow at the base of her throat, and diamond studs spangle within her dark, unswept mane, highlighting the svelteness of her neck and the sharpness of her jaw. The marchioness’ eyes are painted with an avant-garde dusting of kohl – a contrast that intensifies the sherry-tinted irises peering from beneath a hand-held, silver mask; employed to convey humour and distaste. 

[sofiademedici-blog]

                                                PERSEPHONE

              Greek Goddess of Spring and Queen of the                                                                   Underworld

Sofia De Medici’s outfit for the Valentine’s ball

[henrytcdor]

              To her Highness, Princess de Klef, written on the 

None of the letters commenced under formal address survived their first lines. The royal we, the seal, the specifications on our God’s day - all dwindled and flitted out. I have been under this duress for the better part into dawn, long before the privy men huddled outside my doors, and have nothing but debris to show for it. Half finished letters, one more prim than the other, as if I’m beseeching you about a fleet, a loan in whole pounds. They lay crumpled, crippled around me, like eggshells or theater props, something our courtiers would use in a masque to suggest the scrambling for words. The hopeless pursuit of what shall ever elude thee. But I am nothing if not tenacious, and rather scornful of ridicule itself. Hencefore the right words are no taunt for me, for I have ceased hunting them down. I am bound to make a fool out of my person sooner or later, after my estimations - so if laughingstock it shall be, then let it be for good cause. And you, Anna, are the best cause I could chance upon on this earth.

I will not make a charade out of us by pretending I am unaware of your sentiments. You are altogether too humble, too brazenly honest for this. There is more verity in you than there is in entire landscapes, in those concrete objects which taper with our world. I am more assured, sometimes, of your reality than that of England itself. Thus I know, to some extent... that you feel the same. You were never guileless about it, never concealed the few which transpired between us under shrill laughter or demure sighs. How many men can say such a thing? That they have looked upon a woman and saw truth at last. No... I am foundering, adrift, and through my aimlessness risk betraying something I do not trust myself to do. Because it is exactly that extent, Anna, that brings me to a halt. For I have no inkling - and scarcely can presume - how high those sentiments tally. How much they amount to. Do they merely owe to your nature, your golden-thread way of roping the world in kindness? Do they owe to your fondness for odd, errant creatures, which you take upon yourself to rescue? For I am that, and we know as much. Perhaps it’s only us who know it, but we do. If there are grounds...-

If there is any sliver of merit in hoping this is not just a token of goodwill, nor a salvation attempt, that you did not merely bestow your heart because you saw how much it lacks in my own... find a way to convey it to me. I do not wish to force you to be bold, to trespass your borders - I would not say it, unless I saw how bottomless your courage is. Like chaos or light, it finds no end. The portrait affixed to this letter does no justice to anything about your figure, but I had spent hours in sketching lessons as a child and they were all misused. Nothing had been worth committing to paper until now. Saint Valentine is meant to be a secret affair, but, for once, my own boldness defeated what is supposed to be. Or should I say: once more. Because from that garden miscue and ever since, supposedness held little value for me. When I uttered your first name, unprompted, unthinking, it was the lightest sound I ever made.

There is no more to it than that.

                    Without seal, a Majesty on all days but this,

                                Henry Jasper Tudor