Video: Welcome to Dahlia House

Jocaste no Dahlia, Dowayne of Dahlia House
 
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I’m Jocaste nó Dahlia the Dowyane of Dahlia House. And I suppose you’re here because you want to learn more about us you want to understand more about what makes us feel very special.

Well, to understand us you need to understand that many of us come from other Houses, originated somewhere else. We were chosen for this House because we demonstrated an ability to lead; we demonstrated a bigger vision; we demonstrated a deeper understanding of the allure of power.

Now, our friends at Mandrake and Valerian definitely understand that. But we’re talking about political power. We’re talking about the ability to lead people…into movements, into abundance, and into fulfillment.

And in fact, a night at Dahlia House is simply a chance to be to have an audience with us, to be part of that environment of power crackling with electricity, crackling with anticipation, with tension or flirtation and courtly love. To have the opportunity to be noticed. And the opportunity to be chosen, among many.

Every adept in the Night Court, regardless of your House gets to choose their own patrons. But in Dahlia House, we have many patrons that we can choose from any given night, or we can choose none at all.

And that itself is satisfying that itself is the tease, and the play, and the intrigue, that we inspire.

For example, I should have been in Gentian House. I should have been a mystic and a seer – a dreamer of dreams. But I wanted to change the way that they approach things. And at the tender age of 10, I tried.

And that is how I got chosen for Dahlia. That is how I was fostered into leadership of this House. Because bringing out the best in our lovers and making them earn that opportunity to see the private “us”, to have that pedestal of acclaim and achievement is seductive in and of itself.

Who doesn’t want to take credit for a queen, inviting someone to her bed? A king, recognizing you in public, and giving you his favor?

We are no stranger to those who have been locked out at the court and their ambitions have been thwarted one way or another. They get to play out that fantasy with us to earn our attention. And it’s no mistake that we are often called upon to be advisors to the court.

So, House Dahlia will definitely surprise you. Yes, we hold our heads up high. Yes, we all have imaginary crowns on our heads. And you will want us all the more so for it.

Please enjoy this Longest Night’s Midwinter Masque, the biggest event in Terre d’Ange. We look forward to meeting you and seeing you show your worth.

Video: Odilia Gets The Letter


 

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SCENE: [ODILIA is looking out the window, pensive, worried, something weighing on her mind.]

ROSANNA: (offscreen) Odilia?

[ODILIA turns to look at ROSANNA waiting by the couch, she manages a smile]

ODILIA: Rosanna.

[ROSANNA knows her friend, she knows better than to believe the smile.]

ROSANNA: What is it?

[ODILIA crosses to the low table and hands ROSANNA the letter lying there.]

ROSANNA: The royal seal…

ODILIA: Read it.

[ODILIA sits at her couch and sips her wine, watching ROSANNA read. She sits slowly too as she reads aloud.]

ROSANNA: (reading aloud) “Dearest Odilia, In these uncertain times when I have more on my mind than ever, I find my thoughts turning to you more and more.”
(breaking off) Odilia, this seems personal…

ODILIA: Keep going.

ROSANNA: (reading aloud) “The loss of my beloved brother weighs heavily on me, nearly as heavily as that weight that I never thought to bear. As the nights grow longer, I have more time than ever to consider that which lays before me. Mon coeur, I long for your arms and for your advice as to what is next for me. For us. I must take the crown and my mother has warned me that the weight of it will change everything. I stand at the precipice of something new, knowing now more than ever I will need guidance. And so I have made a choice. The Longest Night celebrations will soon overtake the city but my heart is not in them. Instead, I will stand Cassiel’s Vigil through the night, praying for Elua’s guidance and blessing. I regret I cannot share the evening with you as I had wished but to that end I ask for your assistance. As I cannot attend the fete at Cereus House, go in my stead and speak with my voice and represent me among your peers and other guests-”
(breaking off)  Odilia, this means something.

ODILIA: Yes, it does.

ROSANNA: Has he asked you to be….?

ODILIA: No. Not yet. I thought he might but then the plague and the loss of his brother…there was no time.

ROSANNA: (reading aloud) “I can trust this to no other for no other is the queen of my heart the way you are, no other knows my heart and mind the way you do. I have every faith in you and place my trust in you completely. I miss you and pray the spring will bring us together again. Yours ever devotedly, Gustav.”

[She sets the letter aside and looks at her friend. ODILIA is valiantly trying to keep her composure but ROSANNA knows her friend too well.]

ROSANNA: Are you alright?

[ODILIA stifles a laugh. ROSANNA takes her hand.]

ROSANNA: Are you ready for this?

ODILIA: I have to be.

Masque Prep Fanfic: Odilia nó Dahlia

This begins our fanfic series of our roleplaying characters preparing for the Masque.  Read the story of our Masque here and submit your fanfic story.

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“What are you afraid of?”

“What am I not afraid of?”

“Odilia.”

Odilia nó Dahlia turned from her vanity, turning from her reflection to look at the Dowayne standing behind her, “Jocaste, everything has changed. How am I supposed to do this? This wasn’t what I expected.”

“Odilia nó Dahlia,” Jocaste said, her silver and black hair gleaming in the lamplight, “You have done so well. You have brought pride and honour to this House. You have supplanted the Cereus as the rulers of the Night Court and you did it because of what you are. What are you, Odilia?”

“A Dahlia.”

“And our words?”

“Upright and Unbending.”

“You will do this. It’s just one more impossible thing and I have watched you eat the impossible for breakfast. There is a reason I chose you for my Second and it is because no matter your parentage, you were born to be here.” The Dowayne drew herself up to her full height and said, “You will enter that Masquerade at my side with your head held high because that is where you belong. And you will continue to do us proud. You charmed a prince, you can charm a ballroom just as easily. Now, set your hair, paint your face, and dress in your costume. It is the Longest Night Midwinter Masque and Dahlia will represent.”

The Dowayne closed the door to the Second’s apartments firmly behind her, already speaking to Aurelie waiting in the hall. Odilia exhaled and turned back in her chair to face herself in her mirror. Who was she fooling? She was as common as they come. Born to a jeweller off Rue Courcel, from a mother who was a painter. An artisan family. Dahlia had found her and raised her up to be a queen of her own little court, proud and fearless, confident in her power. But no matter all of that, her peasant heart still beat with common blood. And somehow she was supposed to be fit for a prince? The Crown Prince, no less.

She covered her face with her hands and dared to wish that he hadn’t come to her. She had been happy as the Second, content to lead the House and ready herself to move up to the Dowayne position when it was time. She was happy to give back to the House and the family that had educated her and trained her and shaped her to be part of a grand legacy of courtesans in Terre d’Ange. And then he had come. And he had chosen her. And he had been young and still learning himself and she had listened and given advice and he had followed it and he kept coming back and she had teased him; people will say we’re in love, and he had turned red and she had seen it in his eyes. And he had set the fashion, more nobles and courtiers were coming to Dahlia, coming to see what courtesan could have turned the prince’s head from mourning his older brother, coming to look at her and gossip about her.

She had heard the whispers. Heard the speculation. She knew there were bets on whether he would ask her to be his Official Consort, whether she would survive court, whether she would crack under the pressure. And then he had asked her to represent him, asked her to attend the Masque with his voice, in his place, and she had felt fear. What was she afraid of? She was at the edge of a precipice, staring into the unknown, terrified to take that step because what if she fell?

Then again, what if she flew? And those gossip-mongers, those blue-blooded nobles, those who were waiting for her to fall and fail, they didn’t know her. They didn’t know that the best way to get Odilia nó Dahlia to do something was to tell her she couldn’t.

She took a deep breath and picked up her dahlia necklace. How better to remind everyone at the Masque who she was than by wearing her flower with pride? She was Odilia, Second of Dahlia House, favoured by the Crown Prince Gustav de la Courcel. And her Dowayne, Jocaste nó Dahlia was right. She ate impossible for breakfast. She held her head high and clipped the necklace around her throat.

Odilia's necklace