[SWE] The Festival of Lights

Turning instantly at the sound of Vervain's voice, Remi offered the former huntress a bright smile. Melancholy and bereft of feeling as he was, seeing Vai would likely always bring a smile to his face. "They are." The alchemist agreed, turning thoughtfully back to the one at his side and tilting his head ever so slightly to see it from another angle. That Vai had heard from her patrons was interesting. Remi had never really been a hoarder of information, but he assumed that the proprietor of such an establishment would probably be privy to all sorts of information. Did she know what all of it was for then? Nodding in agreement, Remi's eyes danced over those who had begun to arrive. Would Loren be among them? Curling his fingers slightly at the thought, it was Rexanna who ultimately caught his gaze. Offering her a small smile and dip of his head—blame and grudges ere not part of the alchemist's vocabulary, and truly, she was not to blame at all—Remi followed Vai towards the fire. As pebbles rain from the sky, briefly Remi's hair turns into a mess of feathers as surprise races through him. Looking up with sharp hawk-eyes, Remi spied the crow and smirked. Though there were no shape-changer cuffs here to identify his kind as such, crows typically tended to hoard what they found, not drop it onto unsuspecting gatherers. Still, he could be wrong. Even so, for a moment the notion to take to the skies and follow Jorseval was oh-so tempting, until he saw the crow land on the shoulder of a prettyish woman. Deciding to leave it be, Remi returned his attention to Vai. "Do you know what all of this is for?" R ? M I Since you burned me at the stake, all of my feelings went away At least there’s no feelings in my way

Alistair huffed against Devrum's words and simply nodded, bottle in hand as he began to wander around. Sure...mingle. Alistair cursed internally as he clasped the bottle from Devrum, watching slightly amused as he walked off and attempted to be something of a scholar.

Beneath the threats of near-death beatings, he knew he meant well enough. It had been several days of self-imposed exile, losing himself in hunting and other odd jobs to keep himself moving...he needed some sort of human interaction despite his protests.

Funny...how it seemed just like yesterday the roles were reversed, and it was Alistair who virtually dragged a kicking and cursing Devrum in a suit that took nearly half the farmhands to get him into.

It all seemed but blur in his mind...one he found himself thinking of going back to more often. However, you could not turn back time. Life moved on whether you were ready or not...so sooner or later he'd have to move with it.

There was one particular lantern that seemed to catch Alistair's eye, placed on the ground with an intricate design of a boat sailing over an endlessly looping sea. He parked himself on the ground in front of it, taking a pull from his bottle as if expecting sooner or later he'd drink enough to see it start to move.

Uninteresting. Boring. But dead things? Well. Tae and @Grusha were down for that certainly. Having heard through the grape vine (the twins continued to pose as Naturals) about the festival, they’d actually spent a good deal of time making their own lanterns. Well. Lanterns was a bit sympathetic. No artists were the twins, but they were resourceful to be sure. Having created their lanterns out of bones and skins (of course), they’d also added bits of wood, feathers, and blue stones. Wood was the closest thing to fire that they could represent, and while blue stones were not an immediate representation of their mother’s lightning magic, it was about as good as they could do in this hellish land. ”Ha kishi rhojosor. May kisha dothrakh ma them torga the zhokwa asavva.” Tae growled, looking towards her twin with a face devoid of emotions. Still Grusha would know what it was her twin felt: longing. Anger. Contempt. Glancing around, for once Tae was hoping to see Zero. He was part of this, after all. Giving not one fuck about how pretty these things were meant to be, if there was a god watching or listening, Tae wanted to hear from them. She wanted to see her family again. If blood and bones and feathers of her loved ones did not their ghosts make, well...Perhaps Tae would have to find the god who could make it so another way. Ha kishi rhojosor. May kisha dothrakh ma them torga the zhokwa asavva.         : For our family. May we ride with them again under the big sky. tae these woods are lovely dark and deep

Edy #nofilter Okay so...lanterns hung from trees? Even Edy knew that was asking for trouble. And so of course she was interested. Striding in, dressed in her training gear (because what the fuck else did she have to wear in this place), she spied what looked like a crow dropping some shit onto some randoms and then going to chill on a pretty girl’s shoulder. Obviously Edy was interested in that too. Sidling up towards Jorseval and Amalia, the Launceleyn teenager tipped the woman a wink and a snarky half-bow. “So, you here for the light show, or just to cause trouble?” She asked with a playful purr in her voice, glancing from the woman to the crow. Yes crows were smart, but they weren’t usually shit disturbers on their own. And having come from a world where about 1/2 of the population turned into rats or birds or whatever, Edy just sort of assumed all near-by critters were actually humans. Though that being said, at her heel was a baby bobcat. It glanced up at the crow, and if it had a tail, it would have curled it around its body as it glared upwards. As it was, its pale eyes and tufted ears were focused intently on the crow. Yummmm

RexannA your battle-worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore that you are ruined Evidently her need for wanting to be unnoticed didn’t go as planned, as she caught eyes with Remi from across the way. He offered her a small smile and a dip of his head, to which she returned with her own dip of her head – her brunette hair moving slightly over her shoulder as her stomach churned with guilt. At least he seemed to harbor no ill-will, and she found herself thankful for that small mercy. Though she would continue blame herself for what had happened, even if she was the only one who did. But she heard an unfamiliar voice next, a strange man stepping up beside her and her sapphire gaze slipped up to him. He was much taller than she was, and she found herself gazing up at him as he poised a question at her. His comments caused a smile to grace her features as if she’d laugh, before a familiar voice spoke up after to speak of it. Archebold always had a way of appearing in the most interesting of times. He flashed a grin to the two of them and she bobbed her head in a bit of a greeting. Though as Archebold continued, her stomach continued to churn in part from Remi and the subtle explanation Archebold had given – a slight reference to the brand on her collarbone which caused her to unconsciously reach up and run a hand through her long dark hair that covered it. “But what does it mean?” She asked curiously, just as Deimos’ own voice pipped up. She turned to find the large man asking a similar question and she flashed a brilliant smile to her friend. “A gathering of sorts, with lanterns, handmade, but for what?” She questioned, glancing between the three men briefly before approaching the lantern. “Is it for those that have passed? For thoughts and ideas? Aspirations?” She half murmured before turning back to Archebold, Bastien, and Deimos. Then, as if she had forgotten her manners, she tried to catch Bastien’s eye. “I’m Rexanna by the way.” She offered as a greeting, hopeful to learn the names of more strangers. Mentions Remi Bastien Deimos Archebold AND YOU WONDER WHY HE LETS YOU — THE BUTCHER TOUCH HIM — THE SUN

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It is not long before another approaches, strange and dark yet not entirely unwelcome. This is what she wanted, after all- though the best preparation does not lead to expectation, and despite the stranger's friendly approach, Amalia is taken by surprise. The girl turns quickly toward his voice, startled features softening to a smile as self-conscious warmth spreads up her cheeks. "Thank you," she murmurs quickly, dark eyes glittering with curiosity as they catch his blues. There is a distance about him, something not quite here, and it stirs up questions in the girl's mind. Where did he come from? What does he know? Is he familiar with the songs, the curling hymns and smoky prayers?

Apparently not- and as he goes on to ask the meaning of things, the girl can only blink helplessly, the answer at once too complicated and too simple to summarize with any grace. She bites her lip thoughtfully, "You don't know?" she asks in response, but the question is clearly rhetorical. He must be like Deimos, Amalia thinks, one of the ones from elsewhere. Her gaze turns back to the sea of lanterns, a thoughtful frown on the angular face. "They're memories. Prayers. For- oh!"

Unfortunately for the stranger, the explanation is interrupted by the very rude arrival of a... well, a bird. The girl squawks in indignant surprise as the raven claims his perch on her shoulder, and yelps again, though not in pain, as the bird nips at her nose. "What on...?! oh." she exclaims again, surprise quickly giving way to bemused anger as realization dawns. She can think of one person who would find this sort of antic hilarious; her dark eyes narrow as she glares at the bird, still perched smugly on her narrow shoulder. "Hello, Jorseval." She means to push accusingly at him, perhaps nudge him off her shoulder. He is lucky she is in a fair mood, with so many distractions to temper her ire.

She wants to turn back to the foreign man, but there is yet another stranger approaching, and she finds her attention torn between the two. The new one is another girl, shorter than Amalia but darker, lankier, striking in the firelight, and apparently less interested in the baker than the rapscallion upon her back, though the easy wink she throws at Ama is not lost on the girl. "Trouble, always," she replies dryly, an aggrieved smile briefly upon her face.

More interesting than the newcomer, however, is the rather large kitten at their feet. "How lovely," Amalia smiles warmly at the animal, leaning down for a closer look. Does she notice the way it eyes the crow? Is she aware of how she angles her right shoulder slightly more downward? Will she be upset if the feline acts on instinct?

Some questions do not need answers. And some birds need to be put in their place.


amalia chandrakant

we might be hollow, but we're brave

image credits

Ronin Jorseval Edrei

Bastien

Bastien would have jumped as Archebald replied instead of Rexanna, but he had practiced staying graceful. He simply turned and politely listened to the man's evaluation of the lanterns, 'hmm'-ing and nodding where appropriate. He could have launched into a full discussion of the phenomenology of mark-making were it not for the (perhaps blessed) interruption of a second man.

He had no answers himself for what it could mean, so he simply shrugged, looking across at the faces of people attending the gathering. "They are not mourning..." He commented quietly, thinking to himself that he would ask some Naturals at the bar the next day.

It took a moment for him to realise Rexanna was addressing him and he placed a hand to chest. "Oh, sorry, cara. Bastien De Rosieres." In Venice this would have been where he kissed her cheeks, but he didn't want to overstep and simply bowed a little. "Rexanna...and oh. You two gentlemen of course. What are your names? I assume you found yourselves stranded in this strange place too?" He asked, looking towards Archebold and Deimos.

The young woman leaned against a tree, not hiding herself, but not quite actively immersing in the clear festivities as she might once have. Cel bit at her lip gently, discomfort from nerves tying her stomach in knots. She found her eyes glossing over the beauty displayed upon the lanterns, landing on the burning fire, which cast flickering shadows and a beautiful glow over the surrounding area. Her soul felt painfully drawn to the flame, a yearning that would go unsatisfied, as she no longer could dance with the element. Cel finally tore her gaze away from the firepit and glanced around the surrounding area, spotting a few familiar faces, including Remi and Archebold, who brought a soft smile to her face even if he didn’t see her. He seemed immersed in his own conversation, so she opted not to intrude. Spurring herself slightly, she forced herself away from the edge of the woodlands, walking with silent steps as her ruby cloak trailed at her ankles. She took a drink from someone with a small nod to them, then continued. She didn’t drink the mead, not exactly wanting to rid herself of the contents later on in the evening, but she held onto it, running her finger along the rim of the mug. Maybe she just needed something for her hands to do. Nervous energy and all that, something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Cel’s hickory eyes found another familiar figure sitting in front of a lantern with a stare that seemed far too intense. She looked at the mug in her hand and started approaching quietly. She’d heard about what happened between Alistair and Ashe, though the details were nonexistent, and it brought a pull of sadness to her unbeating heart. She wasn’t there to pry. She didn’t need to know if he didn’t need to tell, but he seemed immersed in the lantern with a boat design. ”To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness,” Cel said quietly, approaching Alistair from behind, her eyes on the lantern he looked at, ”but life without meaning is the torture of restlessness and vague desire. It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.” She looked at him with a gentle smile and settled next to him. ”Hope this seat isn’t taken?” celosia Bride of Darkness

She had never been able to resist the whimsical and bright things of the world. So of course, when the black wolf had seen flickering lights hovering in the distance that were certainly not torches or homes… She couldn’t help herself. It was a dim, barely flickering interest, and she nearly didn’t approach. Didn’t want to see anyone, speak to anyone. She’d come home from the woods, she’d been stopped from losing herself to the dark underground for now. Wasn’t that enough? The wolf-assassin still found herself silently padding towards the smattering of lights, golden eyes watching warily from between shadows and empty spaces in the trees. She didn’t enter the soft glow from all the strange and beautiful lanterns hung about, didn’t approach a soul. She smelled her family first, the familiar scents of Vervain and Devrum , of Remi and Ronin and.. The jet black wolf shrunk further back into the shadows when her nose honed in on a scent she thought she didn’t have a right to know anymore. Instinct, habit, whatever it was, she mentally reached for a bond that wasn’t there, and her heart lurched with a painful jolt. Silence. She didn’t look for him, didn’t want to see him, couldn’t. Instead she crouched further back into the shadows between two trees, nearly tucking herself into the roots. The wolf did not shift, wouldn’t draw that attention. Her black coat blended better than her blue cloak, and she could see better, hear better, smell better. She could run away faster. Her eyes latched onto one lantern that hung just far enough not to illuminate her, but close enough that her sharp eyes could pick out its every detail: she couldn’t tell if it was fabric or paper or smoke, but the lantern was a sheer black, only illuminated by the faint glow of gold within. It hung from a curved post, and it seemed so light, drifting in the breeze like a spirit and only held down by the little string that kept it tethered to that curving post. It held no decorations, nothing to mark it. There was no hint on how it burned, or what burned within it, but she did not move forward to investigate. She didn’t need to know, didn’t care to know. The golden glow within the nearly opaque black was enough for her. In the empty and lonely silence of herself, she debated leaving. She came, she investigated, she figured out that some kind of excitement was happening - she didn’t care to ask the locals what the deal was. Refused to ruin the festivities for the people she loved.. So why was she here? Why bother? She lights were beautiful, she supposed, in a dreamy way that reminded her of distant stories full of mythical things like hope and redemption. ashetta it's live or die my way.

For the first time since coming to this world, Kalt shed his uniform in public for something so much more casual. He almost felt naked without his uniform, but the weapons he always kept concealed on his person gave him the comfort that he needed to not constantly be looking over his shoulder. Theea rested her chin on his hair, as he walked through the gathering of people around the fire. He smirked, his eyes shifting carefully over the beautiful and ornate designs on the lanterns. He lowered the toddler to the ground where there were a few people painting lanterns. One of the women smiled at him and offered a bare lantern, which he accepted with a smile. Kalt sat on the ground with Theea, putting a few different colors of paints around them. ”What’re we painting?” He asked her, tucking her raven hair behind her ear. “Hands, papa,” she said simply. He raised his brows and looked at her. ”Hands? Why-“ He was cut off by Theea dipping both of her hands in red and blue paints. Kalt couldn’t help the defeated laugh, as he pinched his eyes closed with a nod. ”Because you wanted to paint your hands. Alright.” He held the lantern still for her as she left her handprints on the lantern. With a small breath, he put the lantern on the ground, dipped his own hands in the paint, and placed his handprints outside of hers. The girl’s eyes lit up, and he poked her on the nose, leaving a small smudge of blue paint and earning an excited laugh from her. Kalt smoothly got to his feet and lifted her to hang the lantern on a nearby post. Someone came over with a candle and lit the lantern, so it began to glow like all of the others. He kissed Theea’s cheek and put her on the ground, holding her hand so the still wet paint on their hands mixed slightly. He glanced around, his keen eyes suddenly catching sight of a large shadow hovering in the woods, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Crouching next to the little girl, he pointed towards the shape of the black wolf. ”Look, it’s a wolf,” he said in a hushed voice. “A wuff,” she said. Theea’s slight speech issues began when he had to paralyze her vocal chords, but he was working with her on developing it properly. He repeated the word with her until she got it right, then smiled at her. “I wanna pet the wu- the wolf.” He nodded and released her hand. ”Go ahead, star. Only this wolf, though.” He knew he would eventually have to distinguish between wolves and dogs, but watching his daughter trotting towards Ashe brought a gentle smile. If she allowed it, Ashe would find the paint covered hands of a three-year-old in her black fur with bright blue eyes looking up at her with a smile. Kalt followed after, wiping his paint-stained hands on his pants, not caring about messing up the fabric, then tucking his hands in his pockets. ”She’s more slippery than you are,” he said with a smirk. ”Can you show your face, please?” Ashetta kalt give into the night.

It didn’t take very long for someone to join him near the fire. She was a beautiful, young woman with an interesting energy of swirling ice and radiating warm, something that brought a gentle smile to the man’s face. He looked at her with a small nod in acknowledgement of her approach. She must have been relatively new, if she didn’t know what the festival was in honor of, but he was glad that she decided to ask instead of just sitting in silent wonderment. It was a special day for the people who participated, a day to gather and be at peace. ”They’re for remembering,” he said softly, looking around at the many lanterns. ”It’s a time to remember the people we’ve lost and feel close to them.” Desmond leaned just slightly closer to the woman, as though he was going to tell her a secret. ”It’s said that the person with the most beautiful lantern might be able to see someone they’ve lost again. That’s probably just a story, though.” He had lost his lover a few years ago, but that wasn’t something he openly discussed. Perhaps the Festival of Lanterns was the single time he did acknowledge that heartache. It was one he was sure he would never be without, but it helped to shape him. You only loved so many times in life, and he had had a good one. Drawing a slow breath, he turned radiant blue eyes to the young woman with a warm smile. ”My name’s Desmond, by the way.” Asavvi desmond Talk to the Moon, Heal the Soul

R O N I N

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It hadn't been Ronin's intention to startle the girl, and as Amalia turned he took a half step backwards, as if to give her some space if she needed. He tilted his head, listening intently to her explanation - what little of it she could get out, anyway. Prayers, memories... Ronin burned to ask more, but at that moment a crow swooped down and plonked itself upon the young woman's shoulder. Fists clenching unconsciously at his sides, Ronin resisted the urge to instantly move forward and swat the bird away.

He was glad he did, too, for it turned out not to be any old crow. The mere way the woman said Jorseval 's name told him that he was likely staring at a shapechanger rather than a simple bird. A smile flickered across his face at the obnoxious caw in his direction, but his reply was lost in the distraction of Edrei 's arrival.

"Is that a bobcat?" he asked the former Storm Guard, arching an eyebrow at her.

They strolled towards the fire, which shone like a beacon in a sea of smaller lights, and Vervain took a moment to simply enjoy the night. She arched a brow at Remi's interest in the sky and the feathers that ruffled through his curls, though she was not privy to the kind of avian vision that he could switch on, and the huntress was none the wiser to the crow's antics. She spotted Devrum and Alistair and couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face at her husband's apparent interest in the artwork of one of the lanterns. Interesting. Quite. Soon enough they were upon the fire and those celebrating around it, as well as creating more lanterns. "No, I don't..." she murmured, though her attention was caught on the conversation between Desmond and Asavvi nearby, Vai listening curiously before glancing back to Remi. "For remembering, apparently...?" she said to him, glancing back out at the lanterns. "What a lovely concept... I'm not so sure of the notion that you might see a loved one again, but all occasions like this have an element of magic, right?" vervain face the wind

Listening as well, Remi's chest tightened suddenly and he found himself standing up straighter if only to keep himself balanced and upright. Remembering. Seeing a loved one again. Staggering slightly, Remi could feel the world around him begin to sway and turn. The laterns all around now suddenly looked like the one that his mother held, and rather than the beautiful creations they had been moments ago, now they all called to him. Just stay here, she'd said. You'll never be alone, she'd said. All he needed to do was die. With a mouth suddenly gone quite dry, Remi looked around obviously panicked and distraught. This was Ludo. It had to be. Nostrils flaring, Remi took a staggering step backwards, disoriented by the firelight. R ? M I Since you burned me at the stake, all of my feelings went away At least there’s no feelings in my way